#duke leto atreides x fem!reader

[nyrasproblm]

I'm not the only one

Leto Atreides x reader, Paul Atreides x reader (platonic), Jessica Atreides x reader (platonic)

Warnings: angst, arranged marriage, rejection, loneliness, screaming.

Synopsis: You marry Leto Atreides, and feel the rejection firsthand.

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

#leto atreides #duke leto atreides #duke leto #x reader #fem reader #paul atreides #jessica atreides #dune fanfiction #fanfic

[thewordypeach]

Cherry Waves

Cherry Waves

pairing: Paul Atreides x fem!reader word count: 9.2k warnings: fluffy smut. virginity. oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, vague mention of dom/sub, breeding kink?!?!?, etc. chubby reader, no use of y/n (however your name is daisy lol) summary: you consummate the arranged marriage to your new husband, paul atreides. author's note: this is my second story that i am posting! i've been working on this one for awhile now... absolutely adore Paul Atreides and Dune. watched both movies like 5 times and just finished up the book! waiting for the next one from the library :) also Timothée's hair in this film is just ungodly and totally unfair - like i don't know if i want to be his hair or have it?? anyways, it's fluff with smut or smut with fluff??? its cute and dirty. that is all. thank you for reading!!!!! addendum: 05/04/23 - this is picking up reads because of Dune 2 promo and i just wanted to let you know that it's poorly edited, and a sequel will be coming soon.

For the first time since you landed on Caladan, the rain has finally stopped. And for the first time since you arrived, you are completely alone with him. Your husband. You haven’t spoken more than two words to him; you’ve been nothing but frightened for the last week, afraid of your new life on this new planet. You know you are going to have to accept this new life because you have no other choice. The other thing you are going to have to accept is him. 

Paul Atreides. 

You watch as he kneels before a delicate blossom, eyes fixed upon the intricate folds and hues of its magenta petals. His once sharp features have softened, the angles smoothed into an expression of wonder and reverence. You’ve seen this look of his before but can’t seem to place it. His slender fingers reach out and touch the velvety surface of the flower as if he were under its spell. His dark hair, wild and unkept, falls in loose waves around his face. 

While you can’t help but notice how breathtakingly handsome Paul is, it’s not his looks that initially drew you in, but rather it is his quiet intensity that captivated your attention. He turns and his green orbs take a quick scan of you. His eyes have always held a depth of knowledge and experience far beyond his years, and even now as he observes you, he knows something you don’t. 

“The flowers on Caladan are a wonder to behold,” He says tepidly, almost as if he’s afraid of scaring you away. He knows you’ve been on edge the last few days, practically jumping out of your skin every time he speaks to you. He straightens, his lean frame moving gracefully as he strides toward you. “Each one is so unique, with its own fragrance and beauty. Some are delicate and sweet, like the jasmine that grows near the waterfalls, while others are bold and robust, like the wild roses that climb the cliffs.” 

You are frozen in place, knees trembling beneath your skirt. Paul stops when he is in front of you, his body mere inches away. Those eyes of his, perfectly green like the forest that surrounds the two of you, sparkle with reverence. He’s been in disbelief at how strikingly beautiful you are and how you don’t even realize it. The thought of you not knowing your strength or beauty brings a sadness to him that he can’t shake; it brings forth a determination to help you see and understand your true worth.

Gently, he raises his hand and touches a finger to your temple, sweeping away a piece of black hair. Underneath the light, the strands of hair shimmer with a blue hue.  He moves his attention back to your face, “Caladan didn’t have daisies until you,” 

When it comes to you, Paul can’t help but be tender. He knows you’ve been through so much. He sees the turmoil etched upon your face; Paul is afraid your sadness and fright will be permanent, and he does not want to go forward if you are intimidated by him. The corners of his lips pull down, shaking as he confronts you, “I… I know that you are scared of me, Daisy,”

Your throat tightens. You aren’t scared of Paul but rather, you are scared of what lies ahead in your future with him. He’s the son of Duke Leto Atreides; Paul has responsibilities that you never dreamed of. Folding your arms around your body, you swallow dryly and think of what to say with careful consideration because you can tell that Paul is growing frustrated with your lack of reciprocity.

“My lord,” The way you regard him by his formal title makes his chest constrict. He does not want such formalities when it’s just the two of you but he bites back the urge to correct you. He impatiently awaits the rest of your words. Your eyes cast downward, afraid to look him in the eye as you confess, “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of the responsibilities that come with being your wife. I do not want to burden House Atreides.”

Concern floods Paul’s face and he is quick to shake his head. His brow knits together and he rushes to speak, the words tumbling out before he can think about what he’s saying, “Daisy, you need to understand that I didn’t choose this life either -”

He stops and inhales deeply to calm himself. Paul takes a step closer and the gap between your bodies narrows. Immediately, you can’t help but notice how his scent is a tantalizing combination of rain and a woody floral. It makes you think of safety. Paul drops his voice to a whisper, “I have responsibilities to House Atreides that I can’t simply ignore. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you or that I won’t do everything in my power to protect you.” 

“You don’t even know me,” Your voice shakes with emotion. This isn’t how you address nobility but damn Paul’s title. His status brings forth an apprehension that claws inside your already rattled heart. You have known each other for less than ten days and yet here he is, declaring protection with everything he has. However, despite his best effort you still feel like a burden. He’s too young to feel like this - he has his entire life ahead of him and now? He has a wife to take care of. Your eyes snap up and you breathe out, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this, any of this…”

Paul studies your face, sensing your doubts and your burdens. Your eyes remain clouded with fear and melancholy. Oh, how Paul yearns to alleviate your concerns and set your mind at ease, but he feels helpless in doing so. His father never taught him how to be a loving husband; Paul is only schooled in politics and the responsibilities of a Duke. Navigating the complexity of matrimony has never been part of his training.

“I understand that this might be difficult for you to understand,” He cups your face and caresses your cheek with his thumb. Paul realizes this is the most affectionate he’s ever been with someone and it breaks his heart knowing this is the first time you are on the receiving end. He silently vows to give you all the love he has. As he speaks, warmth radiates off his words, “You are not a burden, and you will never be a burden to me because we are in this together, Daisy. You are my family now. I promise we will figure this out, together.”

Tears swell in your eyes, “I’m sorry, m’lord -”

“Daisy,” He sharply cuts you off, “You don’t have to apologize - none of this is your fault, okay?”

Paul leans his forehead against yours, “We are a team now. You are my wife and I will do everything I can to protect you.”

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall down your cheeks. Paul is quick to wipe them away and much to your surprise, he kisses each of your eyelids. Your hands cling to his waist, suddenly desperate to keep him close. Paul notices the change and feels your urgency as if you are afraid of him slipping away. He responds by planting butterfly kisses on every inch of skin he can reach. More tears crash down and Paul sweeps them away. You can’t help but giggle at the valiant effort that your husband is making to make you feel better. 

The sound of your giggle makes Paul giddy and it causes his stomach to flip. He’s never felt like this before. His lips stretch into a smile as he continues to assault your beautiful face with endless amounts of affection. Paul stops for a brief moment, pulling away to see how your face has brightened. You look like sunshine now and it leaves him breathless.

Your eyes flutter open, wanting to see why your husband has stopped. Paul is peering at you with so much love and admiration that it makes your breath hitch inside your chest. You have never felt so safe and so adored. A look flickers across his verdant eyes and before you can say anything, Paul captures your lips with his.

Technically, this is not the first time he has kissed you but this kiss is exceptionally better than the one you were forced to share at the ceremony. This kiss felt natural and it felt right. There is a certain innocence to how he is applying soft pressure against your lips. Almost as if he’s afraid of breaking you. You want more, no, you need more. You can’t get enough and truth be told, neither can Paul. A desire ignites inside him and his stomach coils as something stirs inside his pants -

“Paul!”

The interruption causes you to jump but for Paul, the interruption of Gurney Halleck angers him. You are blushing at being caught in a compromising position, hiding your face against Paul’s chest as the future Duke turns to the weapon teacher. Annoyed, Paul scowls at the smirk on Gurney’s face. Gurney didn’t think Paul had it in him because truthfully, Gurney didn’t support the arranged marriage; he had his own misgivings and predictions about you. But upon seeing this revelation, Gurney’s opinion swiftly changed.

“My apologies for the interruption,” Gurney clears his throat, “My lord, may I remind you that your weapon’s master doesn’t like to be kept waiting…”

Paul glares at Gurney before turning his attention back to you, his face softening into that of a lovesick puppy. Your face is still pressing into his chest. Gently, he lifts your head and sweetly kisses your cheek, murmuring, “I will see you later, okay?”

Unwillingly, Paul tears himself away from you and stalks toward Gurney who is patiently waiting by the edge of the garden. Gurney, having known Paul since he was a wee little one, chuckles at the bulge in the young master’s pants. When Paul is close enough, Gurney leans over and mutters, “May I suggest a cold shower before training?” 

Paul’s face turns bright red upon realizing what Gurney is talking about.

Throughout weapon training, Paul is distracted. His thoughts are consumed by you. Gurney notices and finds himself pushing the young boy harder, and harder. Paul mustn’t give in to thoughts of temptation. Gurney barks order after order, hitting Paul over and over until the boy is on the ground, huffing and puffing, sweat pouring down his face. 

A look of determination etches upon Paul’s face as he lifts himself from the ground, swinging his blade around and glaring at Gurney. Paul is about to lunge at his weapon’s trainer but Gurney makes the quick decision to draw the session to a close because it’s clear, they won’t get much farther than this. 

“Paul,” Gurney orders, raising his hand for the boy to halt, “That’s enough for today,”

“I’m not done yet,” Paul hisses, clutching the handle of his blade. He eyes as Gurney walks over to the table of weapons and begins to clean them, buffing the blade until it shines.

“Your skills are improving Paul,” Gurney says gruffly, “But there’s something else you need to learn if you want to be a good husband,” 

Paul looks at Gurney with a quizzical look, unsure of how being a husband has anything to do with a training session. The young master huffs, “What are you talking about, Gurney?” 

“What I mean, boy, is that being a good husband takes more than just sword skills,” Gurney replies, his tone serious. “You need to have control over your thoughts.”

Paul blushes, had it really been that obvious? He sheepishly admits, “I… I guess I was a bit distracted...”

“A bit?” Gurney guffaws, throwing his head back. Paul’s naivety is something else. He presses, “You spent two hours thinking of your wife - this type of distraction is unacceptable, young master Paul. What are you going to do when an enemy has overpowered you?”

“I have my shield -” Gurney is swift to penetrate the forcefield of an unsuspecting Paul. The defence shield vibrates at the intrusion causing Paul to stumble, his green eyes snap to his waist where the blade is hovering above his sweat-soaked shirt. Paul lets out a sigh of frustration, feeling like he has not only let himself down but Gurney as well.

Gurney scorns, “How many times have I told you? The defence shield is only -”

“As good as the person wielding the sword,” Paul finishes Gurney’s sentence. Gurney ignores Paul and continues with his speech, “Even the most powerful shield can be breached by a skilled warrior and no matter how advanced or sophisticated your shield technology is, if you can’t properly use your sword, you are vulnerable to an attack.”

Gurney sheathed his blade, eyeing Paul who looks defeated. Gurney lets out a exhale, “Paul, marriage is a lot like weapon training. You have to be willing to put in the work, to learn and grow together, and to be there for each other through thick and thin.”

Paul turns off his defence shield and runs his finger along the edge of the blade, fascinated by the vulnerability - one wrong move and he could cut himself, and bleed to death. Suddenly, the weight of being a husband falls on his shoulders and he thinks about the promise he made to protect you. He's liable for another person now and he wonders if he's even ready for the responsibility of having a wife. The young master mutters, “What happens if I can’t keep my promise of protecting her?”

Gurney furrows his brow and gives Paul a stern look, “Then you’ll have failed not only her, but yourself as well,” he says firmly, “A true warrior doesn’t waste time worrying about the what-ifs. Instead, focus on the task at hand and what you can do to prevent it. Train harder, study your enemy, and always be one step ahead. The best way to protect her is to be prepared for anything that comes your way and that means forcing yourself not to think frivolous thoughts about her,”

Paul grimly nods but Gurney sees the young boy hasn’t been convinced yet. Gurney feels for him; this is new territory and Paul has yet to find the best way to navigate it. Gurney continues, “As for your wife, you cannot be with her every moment of the day, but you can teach her to be just as skilled with the sword as you are.” 

Paul hurries down the corridor of his family's castle, trying to get back to you as soon as possible. He is so excited to see your face that his stomach is churning with anticipation. He wants to hold you, touch you, kiss you. You are all he’s been thinking about and he is so close to seeing you again. Paul accelerates around the corner and nearly collides with his father, Duke Leto Atreides. Paul is caught off guard and he stumbles back.

Duke Leto regards his son with a knowing look as if he had been waiting for Paul. Leto watches as Paul straightens himself out, smoothing and adjusting the black tunic with the House of Atreides symbol on his chest. Paul suddenly feels nervous being in the presence of his father, he’s unsure of what to say or do. Paul waits for instruction. 

“Paul,” His father nods. Leto knew that Paul would be in this area of the castle because Gurney had already informed him. In fact, Gurney had also informed the Duke of the kiss that the young master and his lady shared in the garden - Gurney said it wasn’t just any kiss either. It was the kiss; the type of kiss that would’ve certainly led to something more had it not been for Paul’s strict training schedule. 

Leto is amused by his son’s red face which is impatient and restless. The Duke knows that Paul will not disobey his orders and decides his teachings in matrimony couldn't have come at a better time. He offers a smile to Paul, “Relax, son - Gurney told me you’d be here,” 

Paul clears his throat and nods, “Yes, my lord - can I help you with anything?” Paul is dreading the answer and finds himself becoming resentful toward the Duke because now, Paul has been delayed from seeing you. When the Duke gives a curt nod, Paul’s stomach drops - why did he have to be such a fool and ask such a question? 

“Yes, Paul. There is something you could help me with,” the Duke motions for Paul to follow him down the corridor of their castle. As they walk through the dimly lit castle, the glowglobes above them illuminate the towering walls made of rough-hewn gray stone. The Duke’s footsteps reverberate through the long, empty hall, echoing off the walls and filling the silent space. 

Leto thinks about how small Paul used to be and how it seems like it was only yesterday that Paul was running around the castle and playing pretend with all of his imaginary friends. He has grown into a tall, handsome young man but despite all of his training and teachings, Paul still has yet to master his stoicism. Leto notes how Paul's lips are pursed with muted animosity - his son is annoyed with him. The Duke is amused by this; he knows he is yet another barrier keeping Paul from his new wife.

As the Duke regards his son, he realizes that Gurney is right. Paul is completely smitten by you and those verdant eyes of his are pooled with so much love that it spills out. His infatuation with you is written across Paul's face. This is a side of his son that he has never seen before. It pleases him because originally, Leto was resistant to the arranged marriage brought on by the Padishah Emperor who insisted that Paul take one of his daughters from House Corrino.

The Duke knows that this type of look on royalty is frowned upon and that it may be seen as a weakness. But Leto cannot help but feel proud of his son for allowing himself to feel and express intense emotions. In a world where political alliances rule, it is a rare and precious thing to see someone unabashedly show love and affection. Leto thinks of his own reasons for not marrying his concubine, Lady Jessica, and does not wish for Paul to be burdened with the same regrets.

With a sense of determination, the Duke decides to do everything in his power to help Paul build a strong and loving relationship with you. Leto refrains from chastising his son about his open display of affection because he realizes that Paul needs guidance on other matters; matters attaining to the bedroom.

He knows Paul has received the talk about procreation but Leto is about to give his son advice on proper lovemaking. It's a topic he was unwilling to breach but Lady Jessica was insistent that it happens tonight as it's obvious the newlyweds will be consummating the marriage sooner than later; she gave her own advice to you earlier and now, it is the Duke's turn.

He takes a deep breath, carefully selecting his words. He doesn't want to scare Paul and begins imparting his knowledge with a casual statement, “Gurney informed me of your training session,” He pauses when he realizes that Paul isn't paying attention to him. However, the Duke presses on, “Paul, you’re a husband now. You have a wife - a beautiful wife -” 

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Paul interjects rather dreamily as a dazed look crosses his eyes. There he goes again, letting his love spill out. Leto realizes that he'll have to remind Paul about the importance of keeping his emotions in check but for now, it could wait.

"Yes, she is. And now that you're a husband, there are certain things you must do and certain things you must not do," Leto stops and turns to his son, watching as Paul's expression changes to that of confusion. "You are responsible for her happiness, her sadness - your actions will directly affect her well-being."

Paul slowly nods, taking in his father's words. Leto cocks his head to the side, asking, "Son, do you know how to keep your wife happy?"

The young master shakes his head and casts his gaze downward - no, he doesn't know how to keep you happy. And it's been plaguing him all day. It's what kept him distracted during weapon training. But when his father speaks again, it's not the type of advice he was expecting to hear: "Listen very carefully, Paul. I’m going to tell you the secret to keeping your wife happy -" 

Leto glances around, making sure that they were alone and just for added measure, he lowers his voice, “You’re going to kiss her lips, kiss her until you can’t breathe. And your hands, they’re going to touch her. Everywhere. Slowly at first, but with purpose...” 

Paul's face grows hot with discomfort and simply put, he's dumbfounded by these instructions; it takes him a minute to realize that his father is giving advice on foreplay. His cheeks burn crimson. He's hesitant, feeling like a fool for asking such a silly question, “How do I know if she likes it?”

"Oh, you'll know, son … you'll know," His father's eyes darken and it startles Paul. His father inches closer, his voice dropping to an even lower octave, “Your fingers and tongue are tools, they will aid you in making your wife happy."

This advice is the limit of the boundary Leto is willing to cross. He's unwilling to give any more as it is up to his son to learn that not every woman is the same and that what Lady Jessica likes might not be what Lady Daisy likes. Leto also doesn't want to scar his son with his own prowess because what he and Jessica do in their bedroom is none of Paul's business.

But of course, Paul can't help but wonder how his father knows such things and it quickly dawns on the young master that the Duke does these things with Paul’s mother - is this the reason for their happiness? The thought makes him feel uneasy and strange. He never thought sex could have such a profound effect on a relationship but it makes sense. Paul suddenly understands the gravity of his father's advice and the complexity it will bring to his own marriage; ultimately, Paul is frightened yet intrigued by the idea that his tongue and fingers will help him in the pursuit of your happiness.

Paul's brows knit together and he gazes down at his fingers, watching as he repetitively curls and uncurls them. He clarifies, "I can... I use them... on her?"

"Yes, Paul. Use them on your wife - and remember to listen to her. Nonverbal cues are still cues, her sighs and moans will tell you everything you need to know," His father sees Paul struggling to hold back the utter panic and he feels for the young boy who is about to become a man. Leto remembers feeling the same way when it came to bedding Lady Jessica for the first time. He places a reassuring hand on Paul's shoulder and adds: "The most important part is consent, Paul … remember, you have an entire lifetime to spend with her. Don't feel like you need to rush through it all tonight."

Paul nods, his throat tight and dry. The prospect of seeing you makes him anxious, and despite knowing that he desires you with every fibre of his being, he can’t shake off the uneasiness of being a disappointment. What if he can’t please you? What if he can’t perform? Will this make you love him less?

“Breathe, son. Breathe.” The Duke pats his son's shoulder and gives an encouraging smile, “You’ll do fine, Paul. I’ll see that a change is made for your weapon training session tomorrow and I’ll make sure that Gurney Halleck doesn’t bother the happy couple.” 

“Have a nice evening son, and be safe,” with that, Duke Leto Atreides departs, leaving Paul alone in the corridor to ponder on what lies ahead of him tonight.

The young master leans against the cool stone and closes his eyes, taking deep breaths to steady himself. The weight of responsibility and expectations from both his father and his new wife weighs heavily on his conscience. Paul has to remind himself that he loves you and he is willing to do anything to make you happy. 

The sound of the bedroom door opening startles you. Quickly, you stand. Hands trembling as they smooth out the cream-coloured negligee that adorns your body. It was a gift from Paul’s mother; she gave it to you earlier. It seems that gossip travels around the castle at an alarming rate because not even an hour after you and Paul were seen kissing in the garden, Lady Jessica was pulling you to the side for a little chat because she seems to think that tonight is the night that you finally consummate your marriage.

And she’s right because the moment Paul steps into the room, and closes the door behind him - locking it - you know exactly what is about to happen. Paul stands across from you, eyes blazing at the sight of you, drinking in your body. He’s wearing his usual black tunic. His wavy hair looks even more dishevelled than before. His cheeks are rosy. And once again, his eyes capture you and pull you into those pools of emerald. Every ounce of his love surrounds you and it spreads like wildfire across your body.

You can't believe that Paul Atreides is yours. He's so unbelievably handsome with his aquiline nose, his high-cheek bones, and his slender neck that tapers gracefully into his lean shoulders. He oozes noble lineage and the thought of providing Paul with an heir makes you giddy.

“My lord,” You finally speak. You give a curtsy, bowing your head in the process. Paul cringes; he hates when you call him by his formal title. He despises it. It makes his blood boil. He takes several long strides until he is standing in front of you. Paul places his fingers beneath your chin, lifting your head until your eyes meet his. 

For a moment, you look… frightened. But there’s something else hiding in those russet-coloured eyes of yours. Paul softens, he’s suddenly all too aware that he still has the remnants of distaste written across his face. “Daisy, please… when it’s just the two of us - Just you and me - call me Paul,”

It almost feels like treason disregarding his title but he doesn’t want such formalities with you. Never. Ever. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment and you nod, "Of course, my -"

You swallow his title and shakily breathe out, "Paul," his name sounds foreign as it leaves your lips. You feel … naughty calling him by his name. You don’t think you’ve ever regarded Paul as such, not even during your marriage vows did you call him just Paul. His name leaves your lips once more, “Paul,” 

The way you say his name makes him smile. He smiles so wide that his teeth make an appearance and the skin by his eyes crinkles with delight. He softly replies, "Daisy,"

You return the smile and your eyes glisten with adoration as you and Paul regard each other with a newfound appreciation as if you're meeting him for the first time. It might as well be since the first few days were tumultuous, filled with uncertainty and a longing to be anywhere that wasn't Caladan. But now, all you want to be is with him. 

Paul can't help himself anymore and gives into temptation, his eyes glancing down at the negligee your body is adorned with. It’s a bit tight and it leaves almost nothing to the imagination; he's able to see the colour of your flesh through the transparent silk. His eyes linger on the imprints of your breasts as they poke through the fabric but what really intrigues Paul is the secret that lies between your thighs. Paul notices the strap of your negligee has started to slip down your shoulder and he reaches up to adjust it, his fingers gently brushing against your collarbone as he does so.

Immediately, he notices that the simple touch has caused goosebumps to explode across the surface of your skin followed by a tinge of red. Paul is fascinated by this change and wonders what other reactions you have in store for him. Meanwhile, you're growing impatient with him. You wish he'd just kiss you already because you miss the feeling of his lips against yours. But he doesn't and unbeknownst to you, Paul is planning to take his sweet time. 

Paul steps back, unbuttoning the top of his tunic. He's never gotten used to the tightness of his uniform and he lets out a sigh of relief. His eyes briefly glance at you standing there. You look annoyed by his actions and this amuses him.

You begin to shift on the balls of your heels, teeth biting into your lower lip as you think ‘patience is a virtue’. Paul has had a long day of weapons training and royal responsibilities. Surely, he is tired. But you have also waited all day for him and waiting a few more minutes sounds torturous - maybe if you ask him to kiss you, he'll listen.

"Please, Paul..." Your voice comes out whinier than intended. You feel embarrassed but it's Paul's reaction to your petulance that makes the pink colour in your cheeks deepen into crimson.

He pauses, a single eyebrow of his raising as his lips lift into a playful smirk. "Please, what, Daisy?"

Paul watches you through those thick, dark eyelashes of his. He waits for your answer and what you're unaware of is that he has enough patience to wait forever. After all, he is the son of a duke. Since birth, he's been taught to endure and persevere. 

“I-I…” You stutter, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the look clouding over in Paul’s verdant eyes. It causes an unfamiliar feeling to stir inside you and your thoughts quickly become a jumbled, incoherent mess. But thankfully, what you can recall is Lady Jessica’s advice: if you can’t tell him, show him. 

Slowly, you walk forward with Paul watching your every move. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the button of his tunic, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. As you unbutton his tunic, you quietly inquire, “How was your weapons training?”

Your question brings a sense of closeness that you’ve never experienced before. But truth be told, you don’t care about his weapon training. You just think it’ll help speed things up a bit. But Paul is distracted. His gaze lingers on your face; he’s admiring the smattering of freckles that dance along the bridge of your nose. You glance at him and see that his lips are still curved into an adoring smile. It makes your heart swell. 

Paul finally answers your question but his words fall on deaf ears because your mind is distracted by the sight of his lean waist. You find yourself growing envious of his body and begin to feel insecure because there is no denying the fact that your body is fuller than his, your bits fleshy and pudgy. Of course, Paul sees the change in your face and at first, he’s confused. But as he watches your eyes studying his body, particularly his perfectly flat stomach, he realizes what is bothering you. 

"Oh, Daisy..." He coos. His voice breaks through your thoughts and you look at him, puzzled. Paul tilts his head to the side and traces his finger along your rotund jawline. Truth be told, he adores the ampleness of your body. He’s been admiring your curves for days and now, he finally has the opportunity to touch them. Paul is filled with the utmost delight at the prospect of being smothered by you body that’s bigger than his. 

It is this exact thought that unleashes Paul from his restraints and he leans down, capturing your lips with his. You sigh happily and instantly forget about your jealousy. You relish the feeling of his supple lips pressing against yours - finally. He places a hand on the nape of your neck and the other on your hip, fingers digging into your thick flesh. He eagerly presses his body against yours, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.

This kiss is different than the one in the garden. It's urgent. Needy. Paul is eager for more and he deepens it by swiping his tongue against your bottom lip. Your mouth opens - you've never been kissed like this before and at first, you're timid. Unsure of what to do. But Paul seems to be just as lost as you are. It doesn't stop either of you from trying.

Time blurs and for several minutes, it's nothing but a kindling mess of trembling hands and soft, wet noises. There is no rhythm and there is no tempo. Paul is sucking your tongue into his mouth and next, you're nipping at his lower lip; he growls when you do so. The growl reverberates through your body and dissolves into a heavy pleasure that presses down into your core. 

Your lungs are desperate for fresh air and reluctantly, you separate. Your chest heaves against Paul’s and you gaze at him, noting how his eyes are still closed, lost in the throes of passion. His lips are swollen, bee-stung. Your lips are swollen too. Paul begins to run his hands up and down your back, his feathery touch tickles and you giggle softly at the sensation. His eyes snap open, verdant eyes flickering with burning desire. 

“Do you want to lie down?” His voice is low-pitched but clear, his intentions are polite and sincere. He'll never stop being a duke even during the most intimate of times. He presses his forehead against yours, patiently waiting for an answer. 

"Yes," Your voice shakes. He takes your hand and leads you to the bed. Tension begins to simmer beneath the surface and it causes your throat to dry up, making it difficult to speak. Those pesky nerves have come back and you wish they hadn't because you were having so much fun before -

“Are you okay?” Paul asks lowering your body down first before sliding his body next to yours. Your stomach is violently fluttering and you can only nod in response. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating.

Paul can just tell by wavering doubt on your face that you’re not okay. He peers at you, his face full of concern. He speaks, “Tell me you’re okay, Daisy,”

You swallow dryly and nod for a second time. Your fingers are gripping his arm because you are afraid that if you let go, he might disappear. It takes you another minute to gather yourself.

“I’m o-okay,” Breathlessly, you repeat, “I’m okay,”

This time it's Paul’s turn to nod. His lips turn into a soft, reassuring smile. He tenderly tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and addresses your concerns, “We don’t have to do this - we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,”

Your heart tumbles over its own rhythm and you quickly shake your head. You want this - you want him. You want him to penetrate you with the bulge that has been steadily growing in his pants. You whisper, “But… but what if I do want it?”

He bites into his growing smile, trying to hide his excitement. He’s thrilled that you feel the same way and he loves hearing you speak. He wishes that you’d do it more and he knows in time that you will. As his father said, Paul has an entire lifetime to spend with you. 

“Make love to me, Paul…” Your confession is quiet. Barely audible. Paul is unsure if he has even heard you but at the sight of your blushing cheeks, he knows that he wasn’t dreaming. You are silently pleading that he feels the way because if he doesn’t, you might just perish from embarrassment. 

Paul pauses to watch the look of yearning etch itself across your face. You start to shift beneath the intensity of his gaze, your eyes dropping down. That’s when Paul feels your hands moving down his body. Your fingers latch onto his trousers, attempting to unbutton them but you’re having trouble, and it’s making you flustered. 

Paul is loving every second of it. He enjoys how your brows have furrowed in concentration and he particularly likes the frustration growing on your face. You bite your lower lip and impatiently huff as you give up. You realize he’s been watching you this entire time and your eyes snap to his. You glare at the coltish expression on his face. Paul finds your exasperation endearing. 

You bury your face into his arm, mumbling, “Paul, make love to me…”

Blood rushes through his body and goes straight down to the bulge straining against his trousers. He loves your wantonness and he wants to hear you beg for it again. He pulls your face away from his skin, eyes devouring you. As he holds your chin between his hands, Paul demands, “Say it again,”

You can’t help but glare again at him. He knows you won’t disobey. You speak, voice clipped with precise ardency, “Paul Atreides, my lord, will you please fuck me?” 

The mixture of his full name and his title sends his blood into a frenzy. If he was already turned on before, then what’s happening to his body now? One thing for sure is that you don’t have to ask again because, within a minute, Paul has hastily thrown off his trousers and he’s now completely naked. 

Your eyes, well… your eyes are instantly locked onto the appendage between your husband’s thighs. Of course, you have seen what a phallus looks like in art and in scientific videos. But in comparison to Paul’s, those examples were tiny and they definitely did not prepare you for the real thing. 

His cock is so engorged and so pink, the tip of it glistening with some sort of secretion. As he moves his body back down to the bed, his cock twitches and bobs. He sees your fascination and watches how you are practically salivating over his well-endowed gift. Your core squirms with anticipation and your thighs involuntarily flex at the thought of him being inside you.

“Do you want to touch it?” His voice is timid, hesitating to request such a thing from his innocent wife but he’s held back long enough. Paul is so sure that he’s going to burst at any second - he watches as you reach out, hand faltering at second thoughts. Paul inhales sharply, “Touch me, Daisy, please…”

When your fingers brush against the tip of his cock, he shudders and his stomach constricts causing his cock to quiver. You quickly look up at him, wondering if you had hurt him but it’s clear you haven’t. He has an intense but dazed look on his face and he’s biting down on his lower lip, restraining himself. Paul is holding himself back and persevering through the pure torture you’re currently putting him through.

You wonder what’ll happen if you firmly grasp his cock, so your hand wraps around his girthy shaft and a throaty groan escapes from deep inside Paul’s body. His reaction pleases you and slowly, you continue to drag your hand down until it rests against the furry tufts on the base of his cock. 

You notice how Paul’s chest is heaving and he’s pressing his body into the mattress, hands gripping the sheets, knuckles almost turning white. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, pleading for more but you’re taking your time, exploring his body, finding ways to incite reactions from him. You know he’s enjoying your hand gliding up and down his cock but what if… what if you were to taste him? You readjust your body so that you’re sitting with your mouth hovering over his cock.

“Daisy, what’re you…” Paul says, his voice deeper than usual. You lick the tip of his cock, tasting the pearly secretion that has been leaking out. Paul gasps, swearing under his breath. You lick his cock again and once more, Paul reacts with a throaty gasp. You’ve overpowered him with one simple move and now he’s yours. It is at this moment that Paul realizes he is supposed to be listening to your sighs and moans but instead, you’re listening to his. 

He watches as you thoroughly lick the tip of his cock. The sensation is immaculate and he’s struggling to remain cool and composed. You aren’t exactly sure what you’re doing but you’re enjoying the smoothness and warmth of his arousal. You seal your lips around him and slowly, very tentatively, lower your mouth down. Paul groans loudly and his hand finds the back of your head, his fingers gripping your hair so that it’s not in the way of his view. 

The sight of you, mouth full of his throbbing cock, practically sends him over the edge. He has to restrain himself by closing his eyes and silently begging that he doesn’t ejaculate - he can’t. Not yet. He’s trying to convince himself that it’s your turn to be pleasured but when his cock hits the back of your throat, you gag and the sound makes him completely forget everything. His eyes snap open, watching as you bring your mouth back up, leaving a trail of spit pooling down his cock. 

“D-Da-Daisy,” Paul sputters out, completely out of breath. You ignore him, dragging both your hands along his quivering cock. He struggles to find his words but when he does, he orders, “Stop,”

He grabs your hands and pulls them off his body. Shocked, you look at him. He looks like a man who has just been to hell and back. His hair is beyond dishevelment, strands of it sticking to his damp forehead. His eyes are wild, his once verdant eyes have been taken over by expanded pupils that have blackened out any colour.  

Before you can ask what you did wrong, Paul is tugging off the negligee and exposing your naked body to him for the first time. His eyes sweep over every nook and cranny, noting every bulge of abundance. He’s taking inventory, marking his favourite areas. He’s particularly drawn to your breasts and how they swell against your chest, gravity pulling down the pillows of dough. They look rather heavy to Paul and he just has to reach up to grasp them. God, they’re so soft and perfect. He’s quick to lower his mouth, latching it onto your perky nipple. The sensation of his tongue swiping over the sensitive bud makes you gasp, “Paul,”

He grins against your skin and can’t help himself, he just has to nibble at the fleshy softness of your chest, which causes you to gasp. Your hand grabs the back of Paul’s head, fingers kneading through his hair, locking him there because your breasts absolutely love the attention. Meanwhile, Paul feels like he is in heaven, sighing happily as little noises continue to escape from your mouth. 

Simply put, he can’t get enough of you. He licks and sucks your breasts as if they were ripe fruits, his tongue sweet and rough against the sensitive flesh. He alternates between too much and not enough, which creates a perplexed feeling between your hips, right in the crest of your crotch. It’s vague, incomplete. You have never felt such a thing before tonight. You flex your thighs, hoping that you can rid yourself of the unnatural feeling. 

With his mouth still attached to your breast, Paul takes his hand and plants it on the inside of your thigh. This movement doesn’t help the unnatural feeling that has been steadily growing and you squirm, hoping Paul doesn’t notice. Of course, he does and he detaches himself to peer at you. He loves how pink and splotchy your cheeks have gotten, and he loves how your eyes have narrowed into a lusty squint. 

Testing you, he drags his fingers upward. His cock throbs at how saturated your thighs have gotten. He doesn’t even think you’re aware of the wetness seeping from your flower and he cups your fuzzy mound, which causes you to squeal in surprise. The sudden intrusion is too much and you’re squirming out of his grasp. Paul is quick and wraps his other arm around your body. He’s strong enough to hold you, keeping you locked against him. 

With his voice barely above a whisper, Paul asks, “Can I?”

You swallow hard. You desperately want him to touch you down there but you’re terrified of what might happen because you heard that unnatural things can occur. Paul senses your worry and feels your hesitation, and immediately takes his hand away - consent is the most important thing. You can’t help but notice how your pussy suddenly feels lonely now…

However, those thoughts are quickly pushed away because Paul pulls your body down with his, your chest colliding with his as he lies underneath you. You feel like you’re crushing him and for a third time, you begin to squirm. 

“Daisy,” His grip tightens. You stop squirming and sheepishly glance up at him. He’s gazing at you, with so much love and adoration, that it makes your breathing hitch inside your throat. Paul whispers, “You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

The compliment makes you blush, your skin reddening even more. You confess, “I’m not a woman yet -”

“Yet,” Paul interjects and shifts so that your body is lying next to his. He kisses your temple, “Lay back and relax, I’m going to try something…” 

You’re reluctant for Paul to see such an intimate part of you. He pleads, eyes begging for a chance. He murmurs, “Just trust me, okay?”

His words make you reconsider. You decide to trust your husband and you lay down, inhaling to calm yourself. But the moment Paul places his hands on your legs, your heart rate spikes and rattles against your chest. As he spreads you open, he looks at your flower with reverence. It’s so puffy, so pink and so wet that it glistens beneath the glowglobes. 

He positions his body between your thighs, his cock rubs against the inner flesh, and you shudder at the sensation. He looks at you, worried. You shake your head, “Paul, I need you…”

At your request, he is so quick to touch you. His finger slides along your folds. You suck in and bite down on your lower lip, holding back. But Paul yearns to hear you, and he does it again, repeating the movement. A small groan escapes and it’s all the encouragement that he needs. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you see that he is in deep concentration, studying as your hips jerk when he presses his palm against a sensitive little nub that’s hiding between your petals. As he does it again, your mouth goes slack and a moan slips out. He begins to circle it with determination, knowing this must be the spot. 

There’s a liquid heat pooling in your core and the more pressure he adds, the less you can take it. You are back to squirming beneath his touch, gasping and groaning at the pressure building inside. It’s such a foreign feeling - you feel like you’re going to burst open. You feel scared about what might happen. You want Paul to stop, yet you don’t. Everything is so conflicting and your throat is parched, and you want your husband to look at you. But Paul is so engrossed in what he’s doing - he’s absolutely fascinated at the stickiness that seeps through your magnificent folds. 

Unable to take much more, you reach down and grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. At first, he’s baffled. He was so sure that you were enjoying his hard work -  your eyes are hungry, having not been satiated yet. The look sends a chill down his spine and when you whimper, his cock twitches. 

If he wants to make you a woman, it needs to happen now. You whimper again, “Paul, I need you … I need you inside of me,”

“Are … are you sure, Daisy?” He asks, eyes glazing over. You nod and reach up to caress his cheek. Paul is so unbelievably sweet. He begins to trail kisses along your stomach, tongue dipping into your belly button causing you to throw your head back into the pillow. He grins wolfishly and continues marking his territory, relentlessly teasing you until you are nothing but a wet, blubbering mess.

Finally, after a lifetime has passed, Paul sweetly kisses your lips and his cock brushes against your swollen labia. The first meeting. Wetness against wetness. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his shoulders down into your body. Paul steadies himself, his chest puffing out with excitement as he lines the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“Fuck,” He hisses. Paul knows it’s going to be a tight fit and he’s worried about hurting you. He plants a tender kiss against your jaw, whispering, “Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” 

You nod, shutting your eyes and moaning out as his cock begins to nudge inside. It’s definitely a little too large for comfort and your body is resisting - you have to order yourself to relax. And when he’s finally pushed past, there’s a popping sensation. It’s quick and it hurts, pain shooting through your pelvis. You wince. 

Paul notices and stops, he attempts to pull out but you’re quick to lock your legs around his. His lips move against your skin, “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” You sniffle, shaking your head. But Paul can see straight through your lie. He asks the question again, shifting because he’s afraid of causing you pain. This time, you answer truthfully, “It hurts but your cock… it feels so good, Paul - don’t stop, please don’t stop -”

He listens and continues to push his hips forward. Your eyes remain closed but your mouth hangs open, little mewling noises coming forth. Paul struggles to remain composed as your tight cunt swallows his girth. At a glacial pace, he pushes into your body and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He’s struggling not to cum because, for him, the suction of your velvety walls is swiftly driving him toward the edge. 

“You’re such a good girl,” He’s barely audible, hands gripping the side of your protruding stomach. He gives one final thrust, grunting, “Cunt so goddamn tight,”

His cock is fully inside, buried to the hilt. You’re gasping, fireworks sparking behind your eyelids. Your hands are trailing along his back, nails digging into fevered flesh. It still hurts but it’s a good type of hurt. He begins rocking his hips, slowly at first, stretching out your virgin cunt. The mixture of pain and pleasure has you splitting open, crying out, “Oh, fuck! Paul!”

For a moment, Paul thinks he’s hurting you again and he pauses. You hiss at him, “My lord, just fuck me already,”

Your lord does not like that. He sits up on his knees, arms placed on either side of you and hovers over your body. It glistens with sweat and you’re eyes have snapped open at the sudden loss. You see that Paul’s eyebrows are knitted together, irritated that you brought up his nobility. He pulls out, noting the smear of crimson around his cock but doesn’t think twice about it and shoves it back inside. 

You cry out, “My lord,”

He seethes, biting down on his lower lip and begins to rapidly thrust in and out. You want to be properly fucked and he’s giving you exactly what you want. The room fills with your cries of pleasure as Paul spitefully fucks your sweet cunt. The same sweet cunt that is making crude, wet noises, making it impossible not to spill his seed right then and there. 

He wants to make sure that you finish too but Paul knows he’s close. He feels the familiar sensation of an orgasm building inside; he knows the feeling all too well because he’s no stranger to masturbation. In fact, he’s spilled his seed onto this very bed many times in the past year. He’s restraining himself, the friction starting to become too much for him - the tight coil wants to snap and he can’t stop thinking about filling your womb with his seed. 

He shudders, willing himself to slow down so that you can catch up to him. His thrusting turns tender and he begins to lovingly guide his cock into your body, burying it against your hilt. Paul notices that you like this more because your moans have become guttural, coming from somewhere deep. He does it again, fully burrowing his cock in your velvety walls. They are contracting, practically convincing Paul to spill his seed. He's barely able to resist the temptation.

You seem to be fighting your own demons and reaching for something that you aren’t even sure exists. Certainly, it must because what else is this feeling that has pooled inside your belly? The liquid is hot, near boiling point. Each time Paul thrusts his cock, it hits a spot and it makes your cunt convulse, and your eyes roll back because the stimulation is too much.

Your hands grip Paul’s strong arms, nails digging into his flesh. Paul reaches down between your bodies, fingers fondling your fuzzy little mound as he remains buried inside. He pushes your puffy lips apart and presses your button. It sends a jolt through your body and you bellow out, “Paul!”

He presses his thumb against the sensitive little nub and glides his cock against that spot, and you’re so close - so close. Paul pushes his cock into the depths of your cunt, practically tearing into your womb. His cock quivers against the friction of your walls and he shudders, eyes closing tight while his hand continues to work your clitoris. He wills himself not to cum but it’s useless because, within seconds, he’s shooting his hot, thick load into your tight, breedable cunt. 

You cry out, feeling as Paul’s arousal fills you. It’s the thought of Paul impregnating you that causes your orgasm to boil over. Your pussy clenches and convulses with gratification at having the opportunity to give Paul an heir. You cling to him, needing him more than ever as you repeatedly call out his name, prolonging the vowels, “Paaaaauuuul, Paaaauuuul, Paaaauuuulll!”

#paul atreides #dune #timothee chamalet #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x reader #smut #fan fic #castle atreides #duke leto atreides #thewordypeach #chubby reader #paul atreides x chubby reader #paul atreides x fem!reader #thewordypeachwrites #wpw

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My You-niverse: Duke Leto Atreides

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides x F!Reader, throughout the series: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

Series Masterlist

You're staring out the window when a woman's voice broke your trance, "I'm surprised you're still here."

You turn to see a woman in elegant, yet casual wear. Jessica, your mind clicks, Lady Jessica. Your husband's concubine and your dear friend. Mother to your step-son, Paul.

You completely face her, "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About?"

"My time here.," you answer, but Jessica looks at you knowingly. You chuckle, "What?"

"Is something wrong?"

You shake your head, "No, should there be?"

"You seem different," she walks over to you and grabs your hand, "Stardust, whatever it is, you know you can confide in me, always."

You nod, "I know, thank you. It's just..." you're conflicted. The mind, is at war right now. The memories of the 'original' you and this you are clashing. You're seeing flashes from this universe, the one before that. You're seeing Marc, Richard, Laurent, all of these different versions of your husband. Your head is pounding and you start feeling dizzy.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Jessica yells out as she catches your falling form. Before things fade to black, you hear, "CALL THE DUKE! NOW!"

________________________________________________________

"A prison?!" Steve exclaims in surprise, "Y/N's a prisoner in this universe?"

"Seems so," Stephen Strange answers as your necklace glows bright, "This is the brightest I've seen this glow." After discovering the spell to help track you down, him, Steven, and America had travelled to five other universe, such as one where Marc was a homicidal drifter and another where he was a Russian security guard. It was very...odd, for Marc and Steven to see themselves as such.

"So this is a good sign right?" America asks, "Because it's glowing so bright, that means the next universe or so, we'll find her, right?"

"Here's hoping so," Stephen leads them further into a forest near the prison, "Alright, kid. Go ahead."

For the past few universes, Stephen has been transporting them. America, still guilty for losing you, had been apprehensive about using her powers. It took a lot to bring her confidence back. Thankfully, Marc and Steven didn't blame her at all for losing you. A lot of her guilt had washed away, but she still felt bad.

She steps forward and gulps. She's mentally hyping herself up. With a deep breath, she pushes her palm out and a portal the shape of a star appears.

Stephen gives her a proud nod, "Good." He proceeds to walk through the portal with Steven following behind and then America after them.

When they walk through, they're standing on a grassy cliff. The sky is gloomy and huge waves are crashing against the cliff.

Your necklace is hot and bright in Stephen's hand, "She's here." He states, "We just need to find her. Remember to stay vigilant and don't run into our dopplegangers."

America salutes, "Aye aye, Doc!"

Steven nods, "Yeah, alright."

_____________________________________________

You're sitting on a picnic blanket in Potters Field Park with the perfect view of the Tower Bridge and River Thames. The sun is shining on you, a slight breeze going by. You're focused on the book in your lap.

Marc lays beside you on his side, his arm propping his head up. He stares at you with so much fondness in his eyes while you read.

"You're distracting me," you simply state, eyes not moving from the book.

"What? Can I not stare lovingly at my wife?" he asks with a smirk.

You look up from your book and he's still smiling at you. You place your bookmark in between the pages of where you left off and shut the book. You poke Marc's shoulder and he falls onto his back. You proceed to lay down with him, taking your place in his arms, right where you belong.

The both of you lay in silence, cherishing the warmth of each other and the ambiance of London around you.

You feel him kiss your head, "Love you, baby."

You smile and curl into him more, "Love you too."

Your eyes snap open. You're confused and head still hurts . The lights in your bedroom are low, but you hear the crackling of a fire ablaze. You take a quick inhale as you sit up, alerting the others around the room.

"Stardust," Leto says in relief as he rushes from his chair, Jessica sitting beside him.

"What happened?" you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"We were talking in the training room. Something seemed off about you and then you just fainted," Jessica answers.

"If you weren't feeling well, you shouldn't have trained with me. You should've told me," Leto looked slightly upset with you, but mainly concerned.

"No, no, I was feeling fine. I..Who's Marc?"

Leto's brows furrow, "Who?"

"Marc. I-I had this dream, but it didn't feel like a dream. Like a memory. Leto, it was you, but not at the same time. Same face, but you went by Marc and-and we weren't here in Caladan. We were...I'm not sure where we were, but you were there."

Leto looks at Jessica with confusion and concern. She shakes her head in response to his silent question, but then speaks, "I will seek council with the Reverend Mother Superior. Perhaps she might know what's going on."

You hold your head, trying to grasp what's happening. In your mind, you're still getting glimpses. You see yourself with Leto here, your marriage that occurred for political gain, but then grew into genuine love. You see yourself spending time with Jessica, allowing yourself to not be jealous of the relationship she has with Leto. You see Paul training with you and Duncan.

But then in slips, other versions of Leto. One where he's in some sort of masked costume, another where he's bald with a beard and waring a sweaty tank top. Another where he's wearing some sort of tactical vest.

"What is happening to me?" you ask to no one in particular, but Leto answers.

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out," he reaches out and takes your hand. It feels comforting, his callous hands in yours.

__________________________________

"Well...that went well," Steven snarks as him, Stephen, and America are lead towards some sort of throne room. A woman stands at the forefront with a questioning look on her face.

"Who are you and what brings you to our planet?"

"Ah, so not only are we in a different universe but a different planet, splendid," Steven retorted and Stephen shot him with a glare, "Sorry," he mumbles and looks down.

"Marc?" the woman asks, which causes Steven to look up in surprise.

"Did you just say Marc?" he asks.

"Are you Marc?" she asks skeptically.

"Uh, well, yes, but also no. I-It's a little complicated, but, I-er-"he takes a sharp inhale and stares for a bit, when he comes back to, his demeanor is different.

"I'm Marc. How do you know my name?"

"The lady of the House, Y/N Atreides, she mentioned your name earlier. Why?"

"If I may-" Stephen stepped forward but Gurney immediately stuck his arm out.

The woman held up her hand, "It's alright, Gurney. I sense these people aren't here to harm us."

"Lady Jessica-" the burley man's words halt as Jessica gives him a look. He lets out a disgruntled sound before dropping his arm and taking a step back.

"Y/N, she's here?" Stephen asks.

"Yes, but she's in no condition to speak right now. She's resting."

"We need to see her," Marc demands.

"Marc-"

"No! We've spent all this time looking for her and she's finally here! We can take her back with us!"

"Calm down-"

"I want my wife back, Stephen!"

The woman holds up her hand again, "I will bring you to Y/N, however, I need some answers before you do."

________________________

Leto had moved to join you in bed. He lays beside you and you're resting your head on his now bare chest. He's gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm. You feel at peace, that is, until the door opens to reveal Jessica.

The both of you sit up, "What did the Reverend Mother say?" you ask.

"I didn't speak to her yet. We had some unexpected guests." she steps to the side and in runs America with Marc and Stephen behind her.

"Y/N!"

Marc pauses as he sees his doppleganger with longer hair, fuller beard, but the same cautious expression he gives when he's around strangers.

"What's going on?" you ask.

Marc's attention goes back to you, "Hi, baby," he says in relief and goes over to you, "We're to take you home."

"You're Marc. You were in my dream."

"Baby, that wasn't a dream. It was a memory. This isn't your universe. This isn't your home." he reaches out and places his hand on yours, "We're your home."

You pull back your hand, "No, you're not. This is my home. You're-You're just a figment of my imagination. Or-Or I'm still asleep!"

Marc looks at Stephen, "What's happening?"

"I was afraid this was going to happen."

"What was going to happen?" Marc stands and approaches the sorcerer, "What didn't you tell us?"

"Will all of the universes she'd been dragged to, her mind, her memories, they're getting jumbled. The ones from our universe and the others, she's now struggling with her other selves."

Leto slips out of bed and goes to Jessica, concern written all over him, "What did you do?"

"Nothing, my love, I, promise. These people...they come from another universe and it seems that Y/N," she gestures to you, who is now listening to America, "is from their universe."

"And what, we just let them take her from us?" Leto asks with hostility.

"I've already called for the Reverend Mother. Hopefully she will be able to-"

"NO! I WON'T GO WITH YOU!" you're yelling. Leto immediately pushes past Marc and America who seem to be pleading with you.

"Leave her alone!"

Marc stands chest to chest with his doppleganer, "Listen, she doesn't belong here. She belongs back with us in our universe. She's my wife!"

"You need to leave."

"Or what?"

"Or I make you leave."

Marc and Leto glare eat each other, one trying to best the other. However, their attention goes back to you when you speak, "Wait, let me see that." you point to the necklace in Stephen's hand.

Marc grabs it and holds it out to you, "I gave this to you for our anniversary. Whenever we went on missions, you asked me to hold it because you didn't trust yourself to keep it safe."

He places the necklace in your hand and a burst of white light blasts out of the pendant, blinding you and everyone else in the room.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #duke leto x reader #duke leto atreides x reader #leto atreides x reader #F!reader #fem!reader #female!reader #marvel au #dune fic #marvel fanfiction

[fantasyqueen502]

In Sickness and in Health

Rated: PG-13

Author's note: An idea I had of Leto and Jessica having an enemies to lovers relationship in the beginning. In addition to a polyamerus relationship with the Duchess in the beginning before Paul's birth. Happy reading.

The door to the master bedroom opens. The sliver of entry allows Duke Leto to see Jessica and only Jessica. The Bene Gesserit handmaiden of his Duchess. He eyes her in annoyance exhaling a long breath through his nose. Grinding his teeth to remain cordial.

“My Lady wishes not to see any visitors at this time.” She states leaving no room for negotiation.

“I am her husband, not no mere visitor.” he corrects.

“Advised by the doctors, the Duchess needs rest.”

“Jessica.” He hissed.

She doesn’t miss a beat, continuing her thought. “I'm sure you have lots to talk about to ensure her swift recovery in the meantime.” she ends with a proud smile. Closing the door he attempted to barge his way into the room.

Key word being attempted.

Within two moves the Duke was now on his knees, the petite woman having him in a headlock.

“Stop it Jess.” The Duchess croaks from her place on the bed.

Earning a look from the Duchess. Jessica huffs letting the Duke go, his face flushed and eyes teary as he inhaled and coughed to steady his breathing.

Running her hands over her blouse and dress to smooth out any wrinkles from its ruffled state.

“I would have you dead if it wasn't for my child.” he growls getting to his feet.

“Leto!” The Duchess scolds weakly struggling to sit up from her place in bed.

“Watch me tremble before the grand Duke Atreides” She cowares mockingly.

“Jess!” shouts pushing the blankets away. Prepared to intervene if necessary.

“Witch!” He spat.

“Leto!”

“Bastard!” Jessica pushes through gritted teeth.

“Stop it you two!” The Duchess commands falling into a coughing fit. The two direct their full attention to her.

Jessica picking up a clean handkerchief. Helping her sit up holding the cloth in front of her mouth. Patting her back painting the white cloth yellow and red. Leto pours a glass of water. Breathing easier now Jessica folds up the cloth after cleaning the edges of her lips.

She cradles her face, the Duchess humming as she leans into Jessica's cool hands. “I'll clean up.” She informs placing a kiss on her nose.

“Ok.” the duchess whispers.

Jessica cleans her hands and disposes of a plate of untouched breakfast, used bloody rags and wash bowl.

Leto takes her place on the bed assisting his wife in grasping the full glass. His hands ghosted her own as they trembled as she sipped.

“You must be disgusted.” She mumbles face flushed with embarrassment.

“Worried? Yes, absolutely, but you can never disgust me.” He assures placing a peck on her lips.

“Well I'm disgusted you did that.” She chuckles softly.

“In sickness and in health, right?”

She hums, giving a nod as he holds her close. Raising his chin for her to snuggle her head perfectly under it.

“How was your morning?” she mumbles into his chest.

“Uneventful. Didn't realize how unbearable council meetings were without my favorite councilwoman.”

“I’m sure it wasn't that bad.”

“No, it was. So hurry up and get better.”

She laughs. “Shhhhhh…I'm faking so I can sleep in and be fawned over.”

Leto laughs. The two fall into comfortable peace in each other's company.

Jessica returns seeing her spot is taken and Leto has no plans of moving.

The duchess perks up. “I wanna talk to Paul some more.” Making grabby hands towards Jessica.

Smiling smugly rounding the bed to the Duchess’ free side. Embracing Jessica’s waist snuggling her cheek against the side of her belly. Jessica placed a hand on her head raking her fingers over scalp, a calming ritual.

“Mommy and Daddy are driving me insane.” She snickers feeling the soft kicks against her cheek. Humming along as if in conversation. “I don't know?” She coos. “I love them both. They love me. They'd do anything for you. You'd think with so much in common they'd be thick as thieves.” She wonders.

Jessica bites her lip to mask the expression of discomfort on her face.

“He's upset you two woke him from his nap.” The Duchess informs them.

“You don't say.” Jessica quips wincing as she rubs the side of her stomach where their child began this post nap cartwheels.

“Paul and I will greatly appreciate it if you two apologize and cease this childish rivalry.” She mumbles.

Jessica and Leto go stiff, breaking their gaze from the Duchess to themselves. Quickly looking away at anything else.

“You’ll be here soon. Feels like I already know you. Mommy and Daddy will fight over you. Without me to ref, they will.” She slurs succumbing to fatigue. “The time I spend with you is a reward in itself.”

Leto swallows thickly looking at Jessica. She holds her lips in a thin line, but her eyes glitter with tears.

“They’ll fight a lot… probably kill each other.” she continues.

Jessica and the Duke chuckle at how true the scenario was.

“My money's on Jessie.” She chuckles. “Don't tell anyone.”

“Leto would put up a good fight.” Jessica coos.

“Put up a good fight.” He echos laughing. “That has to be the most kindhearted statement you've ever said to me.”

The Duchess takes Leto's hand that was clasping hers placing his hand on the front of Jessica's bump.

“I'm sorry, Leto.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. Leaning over Jessica doesn't flutter a lash. He places a kiss on her forehead. “I'm sorry, Jessica.”

She flushes looking away. “All is forgiven.”

“He’s really active.” Leto comments smoothing his thumb over her popped belly button.

“He's happy everyone is finally getting along.” The Duchess coos giving Jessica's belly a kiss.

#dune 2021 #Dune #oscar isaac #duke leto atreides #Duke Leto #jessica atreides #Duke Leto Atreides x Jessica x fem!reader #fem!reader #rebecca ferguson

[avatar-of-procrastination]

Hcs for leto finding out that you, his sister is in a relation with duncan?

YES!!! I love this prompt! Tysm anon.

A. N. : Also, i'm so so sorry it took so long to write this out. This has been in my drafts for like a month now

Warnings : a curse word?

(Gifs not mine)

You and Duncan pretty much hit off instantly.

You were like an advisor to your brother so you were hands on with every thing, from internal affairs to defense stratergies

You and Duncan especially bonded out of your love to prank Gurney. Oh the ways you two would get under his skin

Paul played a huge part in you two getting together too. With his uncanny ability to atttact trouble, you and Duncan were always with Paul

Your love for your neice only brought you closer to the hunk of a man and eventually you guys started dating.

Jessica knew ofcourse, the way you two would look at each other it was a miracle the entire country didn't parade it around

Paul also figured it out rather quickly.

Duncan was scared shittless to tell anything to the Duke.

I can totaly see the Ross reacting to Monica + Chandler thing playing out

"My best friend and my sister?? 😲😡🤬🔪"

"My best friend and my sister!! 😍🥰🥳💖"

But all jokes aside, he'd be very supportive of your relationship. When the two of you would get too lovey-dovey, he'd even send you on missions together because one more minute of seeing you eye fuck each other and he'd have to hurl himself out the window

Heres a link to the Ross scene, if you want!

Requests are open!

#duke leto atreides #x reader #duncan idaho #duke leto x reader #duke leto x you #leto x reader #leto atreides #duncan idaho x reader #oscar isaac #jason momoa #dune movie #dune #dune fanfiction #dune x reader #dune part one #dune 2021 #paul atreides #lady jessica #gurney halleck #duncan idaho x fem!reader #duke leto x fem!reader #leto atreides x you #leto atreides x reader #house atreides #fem reader

[catlordewrites]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 😂😂 I love your work so much can’t get enough

I love Black Herons too much to limit myself to a single line. So here’s an excerpt from the next chapter:

“Do you not find it odd,” Jessica started slowly, choosing her words with great care, “that the Duchess was not presented to you until after the engagement was final?”

“I… didn’t ask to meet her sooner.”

Leto was frowning, but Jessica heard the uncertainty in his voice and knew that she had touched a nerve.

“But it was strange, yes?” Jessica pressed. “Almost as if they were making the arrangements in secret.”

There was a moment where Leto’s brow furrowed. Jessica watched as he turned it over in his mind, hoping against hope that he would connect the dots and draw his own conclusions.

“We… considered the possibility that they may have had reasons to keep her hidden. Insanity or eccentricity, maybe.” Then the moment passed. Leto’s face hardened. “But we were wrong. Lady Rhiannon has proven herself to be a fine, capable woman. I haven’t had doubts about that for a long time.”

“Were they hiding her from you?” Jessica’s voice was low with urgency. “Or was it you they were hiding from her?”

#duke leto atreides x oc #duke leto x reader #leto atreides x fem!oc #duke leto atreides x reader #fanfic #oc #leto atreides x reader #duke leto x oc #dune #leto atreides i x reader

[st4rymoon]

౨ৎ - 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

• Duke Leto Atreides x Fem Reader

| 18+, smut, unprotected sex!, |

• needy reader, age gap (18+) insinuated, p in v, unprotected sex!, creampie!, Duke gets a little mean :( but he apologizes <3, daddy kink, power imbalance, mentions of masterbation!, pet names (love, sweetheart, honey), slight angst, spoiled reader, fingering!

The Duke was a very patient man. He rarely ever raised his voice at anyone and when he did it was always necessary and justifiable.

The Duke believed he’d never raise his voice at you but in situations like this, you were getting on his nerves. You were sitting in his lap, kissing his face in hope to get his attention.

“Leto please I’ve been good” you begged. He’d been away making bargains with the fremen so him being away for so long got you even needier. He ignored you as you pawed and whined at his chest, your lips messily kissing up his neck and rubbing against his beard as you began to grind onto his hips.

He was trying to finish up his work, trying his best to ignore your pretty pleads as he signs off a few papers. But you were persistent. He told you he was almost done but you just don’t seem to listen.

“Give me a few minutes” he huffed. “Oh come on Leto, just a kiss” you puckered “I told you to wait!” he blurted “don’t you ever listen? I’ve got you here begging me for what? Some attention? I told you not now. Not now means not now. If all you please is to distract me then get out! ” he hissed.

You froze, his malice and hostile tone had you off his lap in seconds “I’m I- I’m sorry” you muttered. He was always careful not to yell, he didn’t see any use in it so this was new to you.

“Go sit on the couch and let me work” he huffed. You nodded with watery eyes and decided to leave him be. Leto watched as you quietly shut the door behind yourself. He sighed realizing he might’ve been a little too mean, after all this little needy act was his doing.

He gave you anything you asked, anything you wished for. It wasn’t your fault you got so accustomed to his 24/7 attention.

It was almost 3 hours later once Leto walked into his chambers. You were curled into a ball wearing one of his freshly washed cotton pullovers, reading one of your dozens of book.

“Darling” he hummed. You perked at his voice, sitting up and stopping yourself from running over to him after what played out. “I’m sorry Leto, I don’t want to be a bother. I won’t do anything like that again” you spoke with worry.

Leto signed and made his way to you “don’t apologize, I was cruel. My sweet girl just wanted some love” he hummed as he sat beside you.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, a deep breath leaving your lips in relief “what had you so needy, what do you want huh?” Leto hummed.

“You, anything you’ll give me my lord” you replied. You knew Leto loved being called such things whether it be my lord or sir. “Yeah?” He nodded.

Your legs straddled him into place, chest pressed against each others as he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. “How cruel am I to tell you no and after all that time away from you” he purred.

You mewled at the sensation of his calloused hand wrap around your throat, his beard rubbing against your jaw as he peppered kisses along your chin.

“Have you been playing with yourself?”

With the reaction you gave, the Duke guessed you have. You nodded with a pouty expression on your face, your hips moving against his hips as he kissed you. He chuckled at your neediness.

You gasped as he pushed you onto your back “I think I need to have a check of my own” Leto smiled as he spread your legs apart. He was more than pleased to see you had no panties and wasted no time in getting his inspection done.

You mewled as two of his thick calloused fingers pushed into your sticky cunt, it wasn’t a surprise when he noticed you gushing all over his fingers so quickly. “All sticky and warm bunny, I can tell you missed me” Leto cooed as he began to fuck his fingers in and out of you.

You gripped onto his wrist as he watched you make a mess of his hand, your eyes rolling back into your head as he praised you for being so good “Is this what you wanted? Or did you want something else sweetheart”

Your words were incoherently spilling out of you while Leto sloppily sucked onto your neck “n- need more! Mor- moreee of you” you cried. He let out a cocky chuckle “more of me? I’m not sure I understand” he teased.

You were so desperate you didn’t even realize what you were saying “Please daddy ” you hiccuped while pawing at his bottoms. Leto froze at the word, daddy. He’s never heard you say it before and boy did he feel like he was missing out.

“What’s my little girl need?”

“Jus’ fuck me! Please Leto” you whined as he pulled his fingers out and sucked them clean. He was working you up as a punishment. You need to learn from your mistakes.

“You want daddy t’ fuck you honey? Wasn’t that enough?” He mocked. You shook your head as you pulled at his bottoms. Managing to get them half way down, Leto decided he’d do the rest.

Letos heart was racing by the view infront of him. You were sprawled on your back, legs wide and cunt dripping as you begged him to fuck you. He felt so damn lucky.

He watched you squirm as he rubbed himself between your folds, your creamy slick coating him in a way that had him mesmerized. He watched as your tight hole glimmered, inviting and encouraging him.

The pornographic moan you let out was sinful as Leto kept your legs to his sides, hips thrusting forward as he buried himself inside your walls. He had to hold himself from slumping onto your chest as your tight walls squeezed him with a vice grip.

“Fu- fuck sweetheart” he moaned as he held your legs open by the back of your thighs. The lewd sounds coming from between you were sinful, the constant pressure on your sweet spot had you sobbing onto the pillows.

You gripped onto the sheets for dear life as his deep strokes knocked the wind out of you. The curve of his length knocked at your cervix as he positioned himself closer to you, causing your hips to slightly lift off the sheets as he continued his brutal pace.

“L- letoo- oh fuc- dadd- ah!” You mewled as his hands slid between your legs and rubbed at your swollen bud. His eyebrows furrowed at the feeling of you clenching around him, your sticky walls pulsed against his length as he held you tight.

“Everyone thinks you’re too pure for a man like me, the Duke. But they don’t have a clue about how much of a filthy little thing you are. Always begging and pawing for me to fuck you, always on your knees” he hissed.

You nodded dumbly without a single coherent word coming from you. Spit dribbled down your chin, nails scratching down his forearms as he curled hips in a way that had your head fogged up.

Leto truly was in heaven in moments like this.

He smiled at the sound of your shaky cries, your pretty whines filling his ears with pathetic pleas. Your orgasm hit hard as you began to whine at his thrusts “you can take it, shhh jus’ breath lovely” he cooed as your legs shook around his waist.

Leto filled your womb with his warm sticky seed, his grumbled moans booming into your ear as he slumped forward. He hugged at your thighs as he thrusted sloppily into your messy cunt.

His seed spilled from your puffy cunt as he came to a halt. Heavy breaths falling into your neck as both of you caught your breath. Leto’s beard scratched at your shoulder as he pressed soft kisses up to your lips.

The kiss was hot and messy as he held your face with two hands. “You’ve never called me daddy before love” he smiled. “I- I’m sorry, I won’t do it agai-“ you panted out but got cut off with a kiss.

The Duke spoke through the kiss “oh honey I want you to keep that up, call me daddy as much as you please” he purred.

#smut #duke leto #duke leto x reader #leto atreides #Duke Leto smut #Leto atrevidos smut #oscar isaac characters #dune Duke Leto #duke leto atreides

[marc-spectorr]

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎

pairing: duke leto atreides x fem!reader

summary: It's the night before your wedding to Duke Leto Atreides and he finds you struck by panic about your future in Caladan.

warnings: 3.1k wc. arranged marriage, panic attack, anxiety, mentions of conceiving. my limited dune-lore knowledge. soft!leto.

a/n: first leto fic ahhh!! i may or may not write more parts to this in the future. i had so many ideas but if i wrote them all in one fic, it would be a long one (not to mention it would take 1001 years to finish and post). anyway, feedback is very much appreciated! hope you enjoy :)

—

Caladan.

There is a beauty to it that you cannot deny. It's captivating from the very first glance. An indescribable sight, unparalleled to anywhere else in the universe.

Of all the worlds you could be in at this moment, a part of you is glad it's Caladan. In spite of the circumstances that brought you here, you try to be grateful for it. Surely, there are worse places to live on than this.

Here, the ocean is vast, stretching far beyond the starlit horizon. A fresh breeze carries the salty scent of the water towards you. It tickles your skin as if it were a feather, the light coolness sending goosebumps along your arms. You tug your shawl more closely around your shoulders.

It is far from the hot desert landscape you know and love. Despite its recent hardships, that planet was once home to you. It still is. You wonder how long it will be before you consider Caladan as such. It's been one week since your arrival, and you're in a period of adjustment, which in truth, has not been too easy.

The beach is empty, unsurprising as the moon has moved far past its highest point in the sky. You can't sleep. You haven't for so long. Similar to all the nights prior, you had tossed and turned endlessly under silken sheets before deciding to go for a walk. You found no comfort in your bed despite the mattress beneath you being the softest there ever was.

It could be the chambers themselves, surrounded by four dark walls that are still very much foreign to you. You must get used to it, you remind yourself. In fact, it's more than just a room that you must get used to.

Tomorrow, your life will change more than it already has when you moved to Caladan.

Tomorrow is the wedding—your wedding. Many esteemed members of the Great Houses will be in attendance, alongside your closest family and friends, who are now worlds away from you. They will all be present to witness you exchange vows with Duke Leto Atreides, a man you barely know.

You exhale a deep, long sigh and draw your knees under your chin. Gentle waves lap onto the shore, the white foam almost reaching your toes before ebbing away. You watch in comfortable silence, the hypnotic rhythm of the waves creating a sense of calm.

Unwittingly, your mind combs through recent events. You spent plenty of these last few days surrounded by those more interested in your upcoming nuptials than you are. You've grown weary of feigning smiles every second in their company, of pretending to be okay when you are far from it.

You feel alone. You are alone.

It’s a sacrifice—leaving behind the life you had to help your struggling home world. Things are changing faster than the time you have to process them. But you can't afford to wait—the sooner you marry Leto, the sooner your father and your people's burdens will go away.

You are doing the right thing. The noble thing. It's what you were raised to do. The last thing you wish is to be seen as a disappointment.

Still, it doesn't mean you have your worries and doubts. You lack experience, having never courted someone before. You question whether or not you would be fit to be a wife to the stranger who is the Duke of Caladan. You're well aware of the responsibilities you would have to uphold, the expectation that one day you will need to bear him an heir…

You shut your eyes, trying to push past the feeling of your heart starting to pick up and thud heavily against your ribs. But the pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach grows and grows, and it's a losing battle. Not even the ocean waves that mesmerized you moments ago could distract you from the mounting panic inside.

Your thoughts batter you from within like a storm raging out of control. The pressure and expectations others have on you— that you have on yourself— can't be stopped. 

They're too loud; they refuse to be ignored this time around.

Your body trembles, your breaths are short and shallow, and it feels like you are drowning; you're helplessly caught in a dangerous current that pulls you under the water. The weight in your chest drags you down and deeper, sinking and sinking until you hit the very bottom of the depths of your own mind, deprived of any air, any light.

It's only until a voice calls out your name over and over again that you resurface. Warm, gentle hands urge you to sit right back up, and you don't have it in you to fight against them. You don't remember curling up on your side, wound in a tight little ball, nearly burrowing yourself into the sand bed as if wanting to be swallowed whole.

"Breathe, darling... Listen to my voice and just breathe, alright? One... two... three..."

You can't see him, not through the hot, stinging tears obscuring your eyes. But you can hear him. His voice's hazy, soft lull is strangely familiar, yet you cannot place whose it is.

He coaxes you repeatedly, and you focus on his words as if they are your one and only lifeline—as if they are the calming waves reaching the shoreline. 

You do as he says. You breathe.

"One... two... three... That's it, my lady. Deep breaths for me, and again— one... two... three... Good girl, and again. Breathe..."

You're unsure how long has passed by the time your heart slows, and your breathing evens out. Your blurred vision clears once your tears have settled, and your eyes widen when you recognize the face before you.

Duke Leto Atreides kneels beside you, dressed in a manner you have never seen him in. He has on a loose white shirt and dark lounge bottoms, his graying head of curls mussed by the wind blowing past.

You're uncertain why he's at the beach alone at this late hour despite being seemingly ready for bed. Perhaps concerned guards informed him of your wandering about the castle in the dead of night. Did he come all this way in search of you?

Leto’s dark eyes search your face for the reason of your distress. Embarrassment sweeps over your cheeks— you cannot imagine how much of a pitiful mess you look. God, what if you've ruined it? What if seeing you this way, so weak, and frightened, and pathetic, has Leto wishing to rescind his agreement to marry you? What if, what if—

"Hey, shh… Relax. There is no need to fret," Leto soothes. He must have seen the worry in your eyes, but instead of ridicule as you anticipated, he looks at you with concern.

You cast your gaze down, catching sight of your hand in his. He hasn't let go of it since finding you, and when he notices your muscles tense up from the anxiety that seizes your body once more, he squeezes.

Leto squeezes your hand firmly but nowhere near the point of pain. His words are a quiet murmur in your ears. "Don't go back there, darling. Stay here, on this beach. Squeeze my hand back so I know you're here with me. Can you do that for me, please?"

With his other hand, Leto places a finger under your chin to tip it upwards, meeting your eyes. Again, he holds your hand tightly and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. You concentrate on him, matching your breaths to his. The tension starts to slip away bit by bit, and when it does, you finally squeeze his hand back.

"There you go. Just breathe, you're alright," Leto murmurs with a small smile. It dawns on you how close he is when the sound of the ocean becomes second to his voice. "Better?"

You swallow, then nod following a brief pause, not trusting yourself to speak.

Moving slowly so as not to startle you, Leto picks up your shawl from the ground, dusting it clean of grains of sand before draping it over your shoulders.

You expect him to leave, seeing you have regained some semblance of composure. You much prefer that he would. You can't handle explaining to Leto what was wrong. Is wrong.

The air turns silent as you face the water, wiping the dried-up tears from your cheeks with your fingers. You don't see Leto in your peripheral vision, but he's there, watching you. You can feel it.

"Here," you hear Leto say. Glancing to the side, you find him still sitting next to you. He offers his handkerchief, gently motioning it toward you when he senses your hesitation.

With the slightest smile, you accept the piece of cloth, whispering a "thanks" and looking away. 

It occurs to you then that this is your first true moment with Leto. Before today, you had only seen glimpses of him. The most time you have spent with him was during your first encounter, and even then, it wasn't for long.

You chalked it up to Leto having no genuine interest in you. Why would he? He has duties that are much more pressing than entertaining you.

It's not much of a surprise. It would be wrong of you to expect for more. Ultimately, this marriage is not one for love but born out of necessity. A political alliance. A guarantee that your people will be well taken care of. That's the agreement.

Not to mention, you've heard them— those hushed talks amongst the servants and guards about how Caladan does not stand to gain anything from the union.

They are not wrong; many have supposedly expressed concern, including members of the Duke's inner circle. You wonder if he will come to regret his decision one day.

"You've had quite a fright there."

Leto's voice cuts through the silence between you. He shuffles from behind, sitting where he can better see you. You stop yourself from glancing down; it would be rude, and you don't want to tarnish both your image and your family's name even more than you already have.

"I-I am deeply sorry, my lord. You shouldn't have to see that," you manage to get out, catching the way Leto's brows knit together in response.

"There's no shame in such. Why apologize?" he asks you in a soft tone. "And please, there's no need for formalities. Call me Leto. After all, we are betrothed to one another."

Your throat suddenly dries at the reminder that the man before you is your soon-to-be husband. You wring your hands in your lap and give him a nod, skirting from answering his earlier question.

Leto is quick to pick up your nervousness. You can almost see his brain working to piece it all together and grasp what was happening when he stumbled upon you.

You dread what words Leto might say, fearing they will be judgments made against you. You hide from his piercing stare, picking at your nails until a pair of rough yet gentle hands gathers yours, halting you.

Leto squeezes your hands softly, very much like he did before, and it soothes the part of you that has always ached but you could never get rid of.

"You do not have to carry your burdens alone, my lady," Leto murmurs, leaning to catch your eyes once more, and he does. "Whatever it is, unload it on me. Now, tell me what's wrong."

It's almost cruel that your instinct is to doubt him. But if the sincerity bleeding into his voice wasn't enough for you to give him a chance, then it's the tenderness in his gaze. You see the understanding in them, the concern and genuine desire to ease your troubles away.

Your initial perception of Leto has been wrong. You've been wary of him. Intimidated. But this is no man holding no care for you. He could have easily walked away after finding you amidst a fit. Instead, he stayed. He's here when you were convinced he would never find the time to be.

You open up to Leto like a floodgate, admitting to him the thoughts that plagued your mind from the day you learned about this marital arrangement, your nervousness for tomorrow's wedding and your fear of solitude in Caladan in the days that would follow.

You feel selfish, guilty even, for saying all of this out loud. You have no right to complain when the locals here have treated you with only kindness. Others would dream of being in your shoes—of living in a beautiful land, gaining an honorable title, and having a husband who would make you the envy of many.

Why must a blessing cause you great grief?

Leto listens to every word with undivided attention. He lets you speak freely and honestly, never once interfering between your sobs and sentences. He clears his throat only when the whispering waves of the ocean have lingered in the space between the two for some time.

"You are right when you said some of my advisors opposed me marrying you," Leto begins softly, gauging every bit of your reaction as he speaks. "They told me it would bring no benefit to House Atreides—that all we'll do is use up precious time and resources for a dying planet already beyond saving. Their words, not mine."

There is a quiet beat. Leto glances towards the horizon, where the first faint inklings of dawn break through the skies. He continues: "I realized then that those men do not uphold the same values I believe in. Caladan has more than enough riches to go around. There is no humanity in turning a blind eye to people's suffering—especially when we have it in our power to provide aid.

"I've had plenty of disagreements with my advisors, but I couldn't allow those without hearts to remain on my council. My lack of presence is not because I had no interest in getting to know you. Rather, I was ensuring those who showed little care for my bride and her ancestral land no longer served as advisors of mine—a task that regrettably stole time I would have spent with you."

You fall silent. The breath that leaves you seemingly takes more of the load on your being. Your respect for Leto grows. You see now the kind, thoughtful, benevolent man he is. 

How could you have been so wrong about him? You'd been irrational, too assuming. So afraid he would turn out to be the complete opposite when he gave you no valid reason that he's such. You should not have been quick to judge his character when you had known nothing about him in the first place.

"I... thank you, my lor—Leto," you eventually say, turning to him. Shame and remorse cling to your tongue. "I am terribly sorry again. Had my mind been sound, I would've realized my distress is unwarranted."

"Nonsense. You're overwhelmed; your worries were reasonable. All I want is the two of us to be on the same page," Leto replies. The warm smile that adorns his lips when you correct yourself and address him by name lingers. “Let's start over, shall we then?"

You watch as he stands on his feet, reaching out his hand towards you. With Leto's help, you pull yourself up from the sandy floor, shaking off the pins and needles stinging your limbs. He holds his hand out once more, this time for a handshake.

"Hello, I am Leto and welcome to Caladan. It is a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have your presence here."

A smile blooms across your face as you shake his hand, formally introducing yourself to Leto the way he had. "I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this. I, my father, and our people are eternally grateful for your generosity."

Leto makes a small bow of his head, capturing your hand between his own. Something inside you feels lighter now. The air around you, once thick like water, isn't anymore.

"You will no longer have to worry about your home world. I will make certain they receive all that they need—as for you, as well. I am here for you, even if it's simply as an ear to listen."

A pause. Leto's voice melts a touch softer. He looks at you with eyes deep and brown as the bark of a pine. "In a matter of hours, you and I will wed. It's merely for formality's sake. What goes on between us as husband and wife is nobody's business but ours. Please know that I ask for and expect nothing in return for agreeing to this arrangement. You will never be forced to do anything you do not wish to. Ever. Is that understood?"

You take in Leto's words, becoming aware of the unspoken ones, those hidden between the lines. Their implications settle on you, and you let out a quiet breath of relief into the air.

"I do," you assure before adding, for what could be the hundredth time since Leto has joined you, "Thank you."

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

The sun peaks over the skyline, casting bright golden rays over Caladan. Leto briefly glances in the distance, the silver strands of his mane and beard catching the light, and they glimmer before your eyes. He smiles wide, the lines on his face crinkling as he watches the sunrise.

You also find yourself smiling, spending a moment more studying Leto's profile before turning to what's ahead of you.

Caladan takes your breath away, even more so in the daylight. You can fully appreciate it now that the storms in your mind have passed, and it's as clear as the skies.

"It's a beautiful day to get married." Leto remarks as the two of you gaze out to the water. After basking in the peaceful silence, he meets your eyes again, offering you his arm like a gentleman would. "Come, let me escort you back to your room. We both should rest up a bit before the festivities start."

Nodding in agreement, you quietly say goodbye to the ocean and allow Leto to guide you away from the beach. The sand beneath your shoes eventually turns to a rocky pathway at the foot of Castle Caladan, its grandeur towering over you.

A warm hand slips into yours.

"From now on, you will never feel alone," Leto says, pressing a soft squeeze to your hand. His hold is comforting, and reassuring. “You will always have me at your side, darling. I promise you that."

You smile at Leto, feeling something tender unfold in your chest when he returns a smile of his own.

You believe him, and for once, you think you will be okay.

—

taglist: @pigeonmama

please note that i’m starting a new taglist for my fics. if you would like to be included, let me know :)

#leto atreides x reader #duke leto x reader #dune fanfic #duke leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides x you #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #my fics

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Shooting the Messenger

Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides x Fem!Harkonnen Reader

Summary: Following the Battle of Arrakeen, House Harkonnen remains decimated. With Baron Harkonnen’s corpse slowly rotting in the sand and Feyd Rautha thrown amidst a pile of burning bodies, Reader is left with no choice but to hide amidst the rubble of the city in the hope of eventually escaping before being killed. Unfortunately, the bastard child of Emmi Harkonnen finds herself cornered, incapable of escaping from the clutches of the still surviving Atreides clan. (Emmi Harkonnen is the wife of Abulurd Harkonnen, brother to the Baron Harkonnen- NO INCEST!!!!).

Warnings: Dark circumstances (war, murder, death), complimentary Stockholm/Lima syndromes dynamic, grey-morality, abuse of power (Jessica), spitting

A/N: I’ve leaned more into the circumstances of the Dune books, specifically with Alia being born before the Battle of Arrakeen. If pregnant women are your thing, good for you, but I’m not into pursuing a relationship with a woman pregnant with a psychic, talking baby that observes everything going on from inside the womb. (Authored with inspiration and council from @ilovehotactresses- Here ya go buddy). This is all worldbuilding, no sexy times, I apologize. I legit cannot comprehend this woman fucking someone just 'cause she can. More sexy times later, I promise, promise, promise!!

Word Count: 3.3k

House Harkonnen had fallen. Baron Harkonnen was dead. Feyd Rautha, his successor, laid upon a pile of Sardaukar and Harkonnen soldiers, slowly being burned by flames on the sands of the fallen city. You had lost track of Beast Rabban, your oldest half-brother. It mattered not, you hated both of your half-brothers, the dead Feyd Rautha most especially. But regardless of resentment and old wounds, you were left without protection. Finding a dark, well hidden corner of the fallen city was difficult. But you did. Panting, in between collapsing from exertion and crying out of fear, you'd found a corner. Making yourself as small as possible, you covered your ears and froze.

"Reverend Mother, you cannot go into this sector! It is not secured!" a voice echoed down the halls.

"I don't have another option. Alia has spoken to me of her. I must find this remaining vestibule of the Harkonnen throne, the one that remains, the living heir." a voice rasped.

Silence. The room fell silent, and the footsteps disappeared. It must have been an illusion of some sort, a trick of the senses. Those voices and footfalls had been near, therefore the woman who spoke should have been near.

"There you are. Rise."

A force greater than you pulled you up, causing you to put pressure on your lacerated, probably fractured leg. You cried out in pain, but you remained standing.

"Nevermind. Kneel."

You kneeled, the force of your knees on the stone caused white hot pain to flash up your body. Hands cupped your face, pushing back the veil that hid your hair.

"Ahh, so you're half-Harkonnen? The rumours are true.. You're Emmi Harkonnen's bastard, her little mistake." the woman cooed, stroking over the hair repeatedly. "Precious, so precious. You'd make a poor heir. But we have to ensure that, don't we?"

You could only wheeze, looking up at the veiled woman in spite and fear.

"Oh, if you've heard the rumors, you've most certainly heard of my rumored fathers." you managed.

Reverend Mother Jessica drew closer.

"No, I most certainly haven't."

Glaring up at her intentionally, you smirked in recognition of the advantage you had.

"I was supposedly conceived during an Imperial caucus, the product of an affair. But I've heard the whispers. I may have been the product of none other than your deceased Duke Leto."

The slap that landed across your cheeks was resonant, and humiliating. No matter how much pride one has, slaps can never be any less humiliating than nature intends them to be. Tears collect in your eyes from the force, and you're knocked backwards, or to the side, depending on the direction of the slap.

"You will not speak of such things." Mother Jessica seethed.

"It doesn't matter if I was his bastard. This was several years before he met you."

Her hands encircled your throat, and you were met with the steely blue eyes of the Reverend Mother in the flesh.

"Shut your mouth. I have one purpose for you, and if you do not fulfill it, you will find how little life has left to offer you."

"-I'm a bastard child, there was never-"

"Sleep."

Jessica could only look with a mix of relief and victory as the Harkonnen slumped forward, pushed into a dream-like state by her command of the Voice. This child was a fighter, she knew it to be true. But she hadn't slapped the young woman out of spite, or fear, rather it had been merely annoying to suggest she was the Duke's child. Jessica knew her deceased concubine well, she knew that if he had made such a mistake as sleeping with the wife of a royal Harkonnen it would have come out before his death, most certainly under the pressure of the move to Arrakis. Not to mention the child in front of her did not look like her duke. She'd know his features anywhere; they were burned into her soul.

"Pesky, belligerent. More Harkonnen than I'd like to admit." Jessica muttered to herself. "Pick her up and have her treated for her wounds. She is useful, for the time being."

The Sayyadina that surrounded her nodded, and a Fremen soldier appeared, hauling the war-worn woman up, towards a medical unit. Jessica knew that her injuries would not be attended to at all if she did not press the matter, so she ensured that the girl was brought into her chambers, that her Sayyadina would oversee the matter to fruition. In the meantime, she had the council of her child Alia to attend to.

"It is done?" the toddler asked, voice uncharacteristically adult, in a tiny little body of a girl.

"Yes, the Harkonnen bastard will be attended to." Jessica murmured.

Her daughter came forward, crawling into her mother's lap. Regardless of her mental age, the body begged for connection from her mother, the soul too.

"She is more than just a bastard, she could be very useful to Paul's cause." Alia mused, childish voice still containing a hint of a lisp.

Jessica hummed, stroking the blonde curls that were springing from her daughter's scalp.

"How do I manipulate her to our needs?"

Alia furrowed her brow, thinking carefully. It seemed the little girl blessed with such mental and psychic foresight was momentarily at a loss for words, carefully considering her next proposal.

"She is like her brother. She has wounds, desires, all of which are accessed through physicality, through sexual manipulation." the girl spoke.

Jessica looked at her daughter carefully.

"So, I bed her?"

Alia shook her head.

"Seduction comes in many ways. If it pleases you to engage with her like that..." but Alia did not finish the thought. "It is not necessary to go all the way."

Jessica hummed, returning to petting her daughters curls. Upon inspection, they were covered in dirt and sand. It was natural for the Caladan born woman to immediately think of baths, but on Arrakis no such luxury could exist. Her daughter was of the desert, conceived upon Arrakis, of this Jessica was sure. Secondly was the matter of her daughter's strange connection to the sands. Alia smelled of the desert, an eerie quality Jessica could not explain. Truth be told, the warrior-child scared her. The mere toddler, the small body that contained such irreputable wisdom and violence, it was a body that should have glowed with innocence, of mindless naivety.

"Mother, of what do you think?" Alia asked, seemingly sensing the dark, contemplative nature of her mother.

"Of matters that you need not concern yourself with, my daughter." Jessica answered curtly. "... I have but one request. Stop wielding those knives. Your mind is old, but your body is young.."

"-I will be fine." Alia shrugged, hopping off of her mother's lap, walking away.

Watching her daughter display such independence was exhaustingly emotional. Jessica felt the tell-tale sign of her eyes burning, and the willpower it took to restrain the tears that begged to fall was more exhausting than just allowing her body to release a few drops of water. Walking away, Jessica moved towards the body that lay prone some distance aways. Jessica yearned for something to care for, something that needed her, someone that would be loyal, and innocent in the nature of the world in ways that her children could not be. Jessica wanted something to call hers, and hers alone.

<------------->

Glowing light burned through the windows of the conquered city of Arrakis. Smoke wafted through the main palace, the smell tinged with burning hair and flesh. It was grotesque, the smell unforgettable. It reeked of murder, of shed blood.

"Ahh, she awakes." a voice purred, hands encircling you, a face coming into focus.

Blue eyes of the desert came into view. Tattoos, marks of prophecy; symbols your mind could not comprehend adorned her face. Hair, brown and dark, hints of grey peppered in amongst the rest of her straight hair.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled, and her breath was unnaturally odorless. The product of fasting, you assumed.

"You may call me Lady Jessica, if that suits you." the woman murmured. "Or Reverend Mother."

Lady Jessica Atreides, mother of Paul Atreides, the Lisan al Gaib, Muad'dib of the Fremen, prophet, the mind to bridge time and space. The mother of the demon-child Alia, St. Alia of the Knife, abomination, Reverend Mother, that which should have remained unborn. You knew her well. You knew of her hell-spawn, her corruption, her disregard for higher authority. She submitted to her son, but that was an illusion, you assumed.

"No." you rasped. "No, no, no, no!"

Jessica pressed a hand over your mouth, silencing you.

"Shh," she cooed. "No fear, no cries for help. None of it will make a difference for what I have planned for you."

Since you were a child, since before you had the ability to comprehend the complexities of being a Harkonnen, of being a but a half-breed, you'd always known that it had been okay to run to your mother. Scraped knee? Mother. Your older brothers cornering you? Run to mother. Maids jeering and bothering you? Mother. Lonely, scared and wet after an acid polluted thunderstorm caught you and burned your skin red and painful? Mother. It was in these moments of foolish vulnerability that your heart would sing for that connection, that safety. It was futile. Emmi Harkonnen had died years prior.

"Hmm... Alia may have made her first mistake." Jessica mused, dissecting your fearful micro-expressions. "Or only partly right."

Jessica's hands reached up, cupping your face, brushing hair out of your eyes. Thumbs glided over your brows, analyzing your expressions carefully.

"No... You'll be much easier to crack this way..."

Hauling you up and into her arms felt deceptively easy for Jessica. Her body had hardened and grown sinewy with tough, resistant muscle the longer she remained in the desert. She drew you to her breast, resting head in the crook of her armpit. She reeked of sweetness, of sweat long dried, of the unmistakable tang of spice.

"There... Don't fight it, don't try to hide away." Jessica whispered, her breath now sickly sweet, from low-blood sugar, you guessed.

"You need to stop fasting." you murmured. "Your breath is sweet."

Jessica laughed a little, cradling you closer.

"I have complete control of my bodily functions. You need not concern yourself with the matters of my health."

Hands dragged over the cloth clothes the Sayyadina had pulled over you. Bandages covered your body in innumerable places, your leg was especially bandaged, the product of the fracture you'd sustained. Jessica continued stroking your face, pulling you closer, fingers desperately combing through your hair.

"It's been so long since someone's needed me... Even my own daughter outgrew the need for me once she was a year old..." Jessica whispered, her face showing signs of paranoia, of unmistakable jealous rage. "The Bene Gesserit have taken so much from me... My mother first, then my innocence, my connection with my Duke, my son's innocence, the life of my beloved, even my own daughter."

There was a madness in her eyes that could not be explained. She was strong, ruthless, ready to take and take and milk the desert of every last devotion to her cause, to her children that it could offer. But yet with all that work, with all that pain and suffering she'd put forth, her children grew farther apart from her. Jessica grabbed at the Harkonnen woman with desperation, pulling her in as close as their mortal forms could allow.

"No, you will be mine and you will love me."

"Let me go, I want to go home." you protested, trying to wiggle out of the woman's arms.

The madness in her eyes grew brighter, and she smiled obscenely.

"But you are home."

"I live on Giedi Prime." you whimpered.

Jessica let out a laugh so harsh it might have been mistaken for screech.

"Giedi Prime? No child. I could not send you back to your decaying father, to the dark, colorless, soulless world of Giedi Prime. You belong to me now. Arrakis will be your home. Then, one day, when the time comes, you and I will return to Caladan. We will live on the cliffs, the oceans will sing to us, the breeze... We will remember the good days, and make them ours once again..."

The woman in front of you, the woman who cradled you was haunted, deranged in ways that could not be explained. Whether she had been pushed too far by the loss of her house and her beloved Duke, or whether it had been the Fremen Spice Agony that had caused her to be so utterly consumed by her desires, by her visions of Paul and his propheted status as the Lisan al Gaib.

"I want to be close to my mother." you whispered.

This gave Jessica some pause, she stalled her frantic massage of your scalp, your neck, your face.

"I could be your mother, if you wanted." she whispered. "I could be that for you... I could be whatever you needed, just so long as you needed me."

Jessica seemed on the verge of a breakdown of some sort. Whether it would result in violence, in verbal aggression, tears, yelling or complete psychosis, she was close to cracking all the way.

"I just. Need you. To need me." Jessica whispered.

Pity. The first feeling that came over you when she said those words. The woman in front of you was fearsome, yes. But the truth was she was broken. For all the psychic enhancement and wisdom she'd maintained, she was scarred and brutalized, a thing of beauty and willpower turned feral and menacing due to the elements of the desert planet Arrakis. It was a look you'd seen in your mother, days before Feyd had murdered her. An animal cornered, and animal bearing it's teeth and striking out at anything that dared confront it. Fear. For all of Jessica's training and years of containing her fears, she had never conquered one. Jessica Atreides, Reverend Mother and widower of the Duke Atreides, daughter of the Baron Harkonnen, mother of the most fearsome leader of the advanced times was afraid of being abandoned, of no longer being needed.

"... I don't want a mother... I don't think I could bear treating another woman with the same type of affections as I gave my mother."

Jessica's face spasmed in grotesque anger and betrayal.

"But I need someone. And I don't have anyone to turn to."

She swallowed, a vein on her forehead bulging with the stress of containing her emotions.

"I am that person." she rasped, voice coming out in violent puffs of air. "No one else will put up with you, no one else will bother keeping you alive. You are stuck on Arrakis. The Harkonnen troops are dead, Grossu Rabban is dead. No one will come to save you." Jessica sneered, violently digging her hands into your hair. "The Bene Gesserit will abandon Princess Irulan here as the bride of Paul, the Emperor will retreat back to House Corrino with the Bene Gesserit. They will not bother hauling a bastard such as yourself with you."

Her words rang harsh, true. You needed the woman in front of you to survive, and you suspected that without someone to love, to love her back in the ways she needed, she too would find herself irrevocably insane.

"I know."

"Silence!"

Your mouth clamped shut, teeth clacking together aggressively. Jessica let out a low whimper, holding you close. She seemed to be muttering in a foreign language, eyes glazed from effort. It was becoming apparent that Jessica did not have control over her body as she said she did, or, more accurately, she was pushing it to limits that were unsustainable. You managed to reach for a glass of water. Jessica did not notice. Your throat begged for moisture, you needed the water as much as she did, but if she died and you didn't... No one would keep you alive.

"..." you tried to speak, but the command remained.

Bringing the cup to her lips, you managed to coax her into drinking. Jessica's hands flew to the cup, gulping down the water greedily. You suspected it was the first time she'd had water in days. Dates lay on the table. Again you were presented with the dilemma of eating it and fueling your weak body or giving it to the weakened Jessica. You brought the dates to her mouth, one by one until they were gone. She appeared to recover gradually. As her senses came to her, she called out to a Sayyadina, requesting something.

"You are wiser than I thought." Jessica murmured. "I had not realized how long I had been fasting."

The Sayyadina returned with food, hot and earthy smelling. She handed you a bowl, allowing yourself to eat without help. But as you struggled with coordinating in the awkward position, she ultimately grabbed the bowl, spoon feeding you like a child. Water was provided, and the relief it brought was indescribable. Jessica finished her own portion of food, ingesting more water. She appeared to be healthier now, more content and less capable of descending into madness.

"There. Now we are both taken care of." Jessica smiled. "You may speak now, the command only lasts for as long as I wish it to."

You looked around, seemingly looking for something to say to test your ability to speak, but found none. Jessica noticed this, humming appreciatively.

"Alright then, if I must speak first, so be it. You said that you did not need a mother. Of that I can understand, but do not necessarily agree with. Everyone needs a mother figure in their life, until middle adulthood I would imagine. You are young still, you require coaxing, teaching, nurturing."

Jessica's words were wise, of that you could not argue with.

"But you do not wish for a mother figure. I will not press the matter. I will allow you to naturally find that mother figure, but, you will receive all of your needs for companionship, for safety, for community directly through me."

Her words contradicted themselves, but dwelling on it seemed unwise. Jessica leaned forward, searching your eyes with hers in a way that seemed uncannily invasive.

"I'll find exactly how you need me." Jessica whispered. "Don't worry."

Her breath smelled of the curry she'd eaten. It was hot, no longer tinged with sweetness. And her eyes danced in ways that seemed almost provocative.

"... Oh no. I retract my earlier statement. My daughter was right." she whispered, voice a little husky, slightly hoarse.

A hand trailed down your thigh, nails snagging on the thin fabric, making contact with the skin beneath your pants.

"Desire."

The command inflamed your injury-restricted desires, white-hot lust burning through your body in maddening ways.

"Oh, I've always wanted to try that." Jessica smiled, eyes a little manic as she watched heat bloom over your cheeks. "Open your mouth."

It wasn't a direct command infused with the Voice, but in your altered state, it might as well have been.

"Accept the gift of my water." Jessica whispered, spitting into your mouth.

In any other circumstance, the act would have been seen as ridiculously demeaning, but combined with your basic knowledge of Fremen culture and the lust-addled state of your brain, it was enough to cause a slight gasp to fall from your lips. Jessica let out a soft laugh, kissing your cheek forcefully.

"Swallow."

You did as obeyed, her spit sliding down your throat. Jessica caught the motion with her lips, savoring the act.

"Again." Jessica whispered, hand holding your jaw.

Her saliva hit your tongue, and you closed your mouth. You waited for her lips to find your throat before swallowing. Jessica hummed, bringing your body closer.

"Now my water lives inside of you. You'll be mine before you know it."

Slowly, about as slowly as it took for your body to absorb the moisture she'd delivered you, your body stopped desiring. But the humiliation of the act lingered. The claim, the power she had of you, her words. That remained for much longer than you cared to admit.

#lady jessica x reader #lady jessica x you #reverend mother jessica x reader #reverend mother jessica x you #lady jessica #reverend mother jessica #dune #dune part two #rebecca ferguson x reader #rebecca ferguson x you #lesbian #wlw

[writefightandflightclub]

Suddenly got hit by the thought of Leto taking his sweet time eating his cum out of you after fucking you over and over for hours…

Um. Excuse me? Ok. Um. Help?! Like. My God. Um. Yes?!

(Thank you for this delicious thot, Erika, and please accept this hastily scrawled offering in return for your kindness in sharing this 😝🧡 Also sorry for typos or incoherence. Wrote this in a haze and I’m about to go to bed so no time to proof!)

P.s. I’m keen to write more for the Duke atm so anyone (18+ ofc) feel free to hit me up with requests 🧡

Word count: 1.1k ish

Warnings: SMUT: oral, cum-eating (lots) 18+ only, Minors DNI

Plenty: (Duke Leto Atreides x fem!reader)

You’re sure his tongue is tracing the shape of the Caladan coastline as it shivers through your folds, pleasure blooming through your core like the surge of waves into your deepest coves.

You cry out, clamping your own hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, the sound digressing to something muffled against the palm of your hand.

You feel Leto chuckle warmly against your cunt, before sucking a puckered kiss over your clit. “What is the use of a palace so grand as this if my concubine cannot make noise, hmm? Who is it that will hear you, all this way from the halls?”

“The guards, perhaps.”

“Let them hear you.”

Your breaths grow ragged as he works at your folds with his tongue. “I think they have already heard plenty from me for today, my Lord.” Leto knows well how to please you. Perhaps he does not care as to who knows it.

“There’s no such thing as ‘plenty’ when it involves you, my dove.”

He must believe that, for all day he has not tired of you. All day he has bred you, filling you over and over with his seed until you were full of him. Until, when he shoved inside of you with his throbbing cock, his own release was forced out around him, coating your thighs, his balls, his abdomen, the silken sheets - both your writhing bodies.

And, now that you have finally drained him dry, he settles himself over your sensitive cunt, his tongue laving the apex of your thighs, licking up his own spend.

He huffs his warm breath against your folds again as he adjusts, settling his head more squarely between your thighs. Your legs are folded back towards your chest by the firm press of his warm, broad palms, your Duke laid out on his front - in an undignified manner, quite unbefitting a man of his position.

You take pride in it. In him. At stately functions you have gossiped with other concubines - or, rather, have allowed them to gossip in your presence, as that would be unbecoming of your position. You’ve heard them tell that their Lords are more than content for their concubines to sink to their knees in service, but that the equivalent act is never bestowed in their favour.

And then, there’s your beautiful Leto.

You could count out whole calendar months against the time he’s spent between your thighs, and you know you are endlessly lucky to be at his service, when he gives you so much in return.

Indeed, you moan as his tongue probes greedily at your sensitive, fucked-open entrance, humming as his lips and beard glide over the mess he’s made of you. “Leto,” you gasp, as you realise he must mean to suck you clean of him.

He hums and you hear him swallow, the idea of him tasting himself sending a wild, throbbing want to your over-worked clit.

You throw your head back on to the propped stack of pillows he’d arranged you on when, moments ago, you had grown limp and boneless through your earth-shaking release. Your body positioned so that his seed must be gradually eking out of you, you now realise; taking a slow, honeyed surge down to his wanting lips.

You lick your own lips, imagining the moreish salt-tang of him, and once again pleasure crests as his tongue shivers through your folds. His ministrations dance over you in a gentle, teasing pattern; then, he flattens his tongue, licking a hot, greedy stripe along the full length of your throbbing slit.

Even the air is full of sex, just like you are, the room salted like the sea, a rousing musk which fills your lungs and makes you think of home.

You whimper, clamping your hands either side of his head, twisting your fingers into the regal, grizzled waves which undulate between the slack grasp of your fingers. You know not whether you mean to pull him closer or to push him away, but in the end you do neither, instead bucking your arousal up and into his mouth, grinding your heat against his beard and chin and nose until he is coated - a mess of your juices and his own seed as though he is the shore now, and you the dragged, liquid tide coursing over his stony face.

Leto does not complain, however. Instead, when you look back down to him his eyes are glinting wickedly - like black stones winking out of rock-pools. He hums into your heat, the sound low and drawn-out; sending vibrations singing through your core and reminding you you are empty of him.

“Leto!” you squeal suddenly as he swirls his tongue against you, flicking and thudding against your clit. Using all the power and finesse in his lips and tongue to stake his compelling argument.

You grow breathless, an impossible pleasure building as he writhes his tongue along your sensitive folds, meticulously cleaning every last drop of him from you.

“Do you like to taste yourself, my Lord?” you ask as a warm heat blooms right through your middle.

“I like to taste how full I made you, my dove. I like to taste how many times I claimed you as my own.”

From his position, you watch crinkles radiate out from around his eyes as he looks up at you - with a wicked amusement at the growing state of you, already a mess and about to become further undone. Then, he resumes his focus, his proud nose nudging against your clit as he sinks back towards your entrance.

The blooming pleasure makes you clamp down on nothing, empty of him, squeezing more of his seed out of you. You feel it trickle out of you, moments before it is met eagerly by Leto’s lips and tongue. You shiver as you feel the pleasant scrape of his drenched, coated beard, flattened to his shapely chin as he laps up every drop.

He grunts, pushing your thighs further back, opening you up to him further, and, as his tongue curls and slides and probes against you just the way you like, you fist your hands into the sheets in desperation. “Leto! My Lord! What do you mean to do to me?” You can barely take it, so overcome with pleasure already. “Do you mean to clean up every drop?!”

He chuckles warmly, a sound only you are ever privy to. He grips your thighs to manoeuvre them downward, settling them either side of his ears for your comfort. Allowing him to twist and to plant a delicate kiss to your inner thigh.

“I plan to keep going until I can only taste you, my love,” he rasps into your skin, and his words cause your eyes to roll skyward once more.

Leto dips his eager mouth towards your cunt once more too, entirely unrelenting.

You interpret that you are going to be here for some time at his service; but that suits you just fine.

When it comes to Leto - and his supple tongue - there’s no such thing as plenty. Never such a thing as enough or too much.

He shoves his tongue inside of you, finally through with his teasing, it appears. Indeed, the benevolent Duke finally grants you a consistent pace and motion, carrying you forcefully skyward as your pleasure lifts - like a hawk tossed aloft by the graze of the wind under its wings.

And, this time, when you come undone, you do make enough noise to befit a palace of this size.

In fact, by the time your Duke is done with you - which won’t be for some time - they may even have heard your gracious, lilting moans from all the way down in the halls.

#duke leto atreides #duke leto x reader #duke leto atreides x reader #leto atreides x reader #Oscar Isaac

[barbiedragon]

Dune Masterlist

One Shots:

Duke Leto Atreides NSFW Alphabet

Turn the Inner Eye (Feyd x concubine!!reader)

Intertwined Princess Irulan x Bene Gesserit!reader

Requests:

The Flesh Surrenders Itself (Feyd x fem!reader, BDSM, petplay)

Tender is the Flesh (Feyd x virgin!reader)

Cracked Porcelain: Part One Part Two (Feyd x Atreides!reader)

WIP:

Duke Leto x fem!reader (arranged marriage)

Covenant (Feyd x Irulan x concubine!reader)

Feyd x reader (hate sex)

Irulan x handmaiden!reader (preparing Irula for her wedding to Paul)

Feyd x reader (dub-con, reader switches places with Irulan and pretends to be her)

Irulan x reader (childhood friend turned lover, reader kills Paul in his sleep before he can marry Irulan)

#dune fanfiction #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #duke leto atreides #duke leto x reader #princess irulan #princess irulan x reader #irulan x reader #feyd rautha x reader #leto atreides x reader #dune smut #dune imagine #feyd imagine #irulan imagine #duke leto imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #princess irulan fanfic #duke leto fanfic

[nyrasproblm]

Eu não sou o único - 02

Leto Atreides x reader, Paul Atreides x reader (platonic), Jessica Atreides x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 1,7K

Warnings: angst, age gap (reader is 20s, leto is 40s), arranged marriage, rejection, loneliness, screaming.

The week before leaving for Arrakis dragged by slowly, you barely left your room. Today, the weather was more pleasant and you decided to leave your room to take a walk outside the Palace. You had already seen almost all the bibliofilms available to you, learned a little about Arrakis, about their spice and about the Fremen.

Sighing, you left the room and decided to guide yourself through the corridors, in order to spend as much time as possible outside your room. However, as you turned into a hallway you bumped into someone and fell. Before getting up, you looked up and saw an elderly man, chubby, with dark skin and completely gray curly hair.

— Oh! A thousand pardons, young duchess, a thousand pardons. — he held out his hand and you graciously accepted it, standing up.

— I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, sir… — you waited for him to introduce himself.

— Thufir Hawat, milady, master of assassins and head of security for House Atreides. — he extended his hand and you placed yours over his, seeing him take your hand and touch his forehead, as a sign of respect.

— It is a great pleasure to meet you, Thufir Hawat, although under these circumstances, I apologize again. — you opened a small smile.

— Where was the young duchess going in such a hurry, if I may ask?

— Oh, I just wanted to get out of my room for a bit...

Thufir Hawat gave you a tender smile and nodded, extending his arm for you to take.

— Can I accompany you on your walk, your grace? - he asked.

Graciously accepting his arm, you walked at a leisurely pace through the castle until you reached the outside, where you sat on a stone bench facing the sea.

— Thufir Hawat, may I ask you a question?

— I will answer everything you ask me, milady. — he replied, turning his face towards you.

— You're a Mentat, right? — you swallowed hard.

— Yes, my lady, I was bestowed with this gift after years of training. — he replied politely.

— Must be good. — you replied absently, looking at the sea.

You and Thufir stayed for a while longer until he had to leave to fulfill his duty to House Atreides.

You spent the rest of the day in your room.

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

You met Thufir Hawat on the other days too, but you didn't want to disturb him as he was very busy, but he came to you one day and invited you to walk along the coast again.

You talked a lot and it was good to have a friend at the Palace, since the maids barely looked at you, Lady Jessica was nowhere to be found, Paul preferred to be training, and your husband... anyway.

Encouraged by the way Thufir Hawat seemed to be a good friend, you took a deep breath and started to speak, turning to him.

— Thufir Hawat, if I say something, will you promise to keep it a secret?

The old gentleman turned to you, his sparse eyebrows rising slightly.

— If it is something that puts House Atreides at risk, I must inform the Duke, my lady. But if it's something that isn't dangerous, then I'll keep your secret. — he replied calmly.

— No, it won't put anyone at risk, it's one thing... you know, Thufir Hawat, all my life everything I do never matters, I want to do something important at least once.

— What are you trying to say, young duchess?

— I learn quickly, I know how to pilot some ships, I know how to speak some of the ancient languages, and I know hand combat. — you took a deep breath. — Thufir Hawat, if you could train me... to be a Mentat, I would never do anything to harm anyone, I just want to be of some value-

— Duchess, I'm afraid that's not possible-

— Please, I know how to calculate and solve some things, I just want-

— Young lady, pay attention. — he turned and held his arms, seeing that up close his eyes were about to leak. — You don't need any of these things to have value, we all have value, remember that. You are an honorable lady, you don't need to prove anything to anyone, understand?

— I want to prove it to myself. — the first tear fell. — My whole life they talk about me as if I were just a bargaining chip, I want to convince myself that I am more than that, please, master Thufir, please.

The old man sighed and rubbed your arms a little, looking at the grass.

— You know what that implies, right? Mentat are not prohibited from training, but it is dangerous due to politics, if I train you and you do something against this House, then we will both die, can you understand that, milady?

— I would never do that, I swore allegiance to House Atreides and I will be loyal until my death, it is my House now.

Thufir Hawat sighed and gave a small smile.

— Alright then, but let's be cautious, shall we?

There were only two days left before leaving for Arrakis, and in those two days Thufir Hawat gave you some old leather books, and when possible he would meet with you quickly to teach you before returning to his own duties.

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

On the last night before leaving for Arrakis, your room was almost empty, you were reading one of Thufir's latest books when a maid informed you that the Duke wanted to have dinner with you.

The maids helped you get dressed and you calmly walked to the dining room, even though you were confused about the sudden invitation. Upon entering, you frowned when you only saw the Duke there.

— My lord duke. — you bowed your head slightly and sat on the opposite side of him.

He just nodded and dinner was served, the two began to eat in silence, again the noise of cutlery filling the place.

You were distracted by the embroidery pattern on the napkin in front of you and only paid attention again when you heard the Duke's deep voice.

— I hear you've been spending a lot of time with my head of security. — he said while cutting the meat with a knife.

You looked at him and blinked in confusion a few times.

— Ah, Thufir Hawat, yes, he is very kind, sir. — you drank water.

— I hope you understand that Master Thufir has duties and cannot waste time like you. — he replied, looking at you.

You felt butterflies in your stomach and looked away, swallowing hard.

— Yes, your grace is right, I will no longer bother Master Thufir.

The rest of the dinner passed in silence and when they finished, the Duke left and you waited a few minutes before you could leave too, going straight to your room.

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

The arrival on Arrakis was the other day, Leto was wearing gray armor, Jessica was wearing a yellow silk dress with a veil of the same color and stones on her face, Paul was wearing formal attire and you were wearing a silk dress, but red, similar to Jessica's, she chose it. You wore stones on your bust and sleeves, like her, but without a veil or stones on your face.

Everyone was watching the ramp of the large ship descend, and during that, you saw Jessica stop next to Leto and put her hand on his, which he held and squeezed. You looked away and stayed a few steps behind with your maids.

Paul noticed your uneasiness and held out his arm for you to hold and you held it with a minimal smile on your face. The Duke turned his face to look at his son and saw the scene, but he showed no emotion.

When they started to leave, you and Paul were behind Leto and Jessica, when they arrived halfway you saw Thufir waiting for everyone. Paul let go of you and ran away.

— Thufir Hawat! — he exclaimed happily and hugged the old man.

— Young master, I'm glad the trip was safe. — he said, returning the hug and turning to the others. — My lord duke, my lady Jessica.

He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw you practically hidden, far behind where you should be. He took a few steps to the left so he could see you better.

— My young Duchess Atreides. — he said with a tender smile that you returned.

Everyone walked towards the ornithopters, but you were guided to go with Leto, Paul and Jessica went in another with Thufir Hawat. As you entered and settled in, you saw that Gurney was also there, he was the master at arms of House Atreides.

Leto sat in the seat next to yours and Gurney sat in front. The ornithopter started to take off, soon you could see some people, the same ones who were shouting things to Paul. Turning your face to Gurney you ask:

— What were they shouting to Paul?

— Lisan Al-Gaib. Is what the Fremen consider to be a messiah. — your husband responded from beside her, before Gurney could say anything.

You just mumbled something in response and fell silent. That was none of your business, you didn't like to meddle in matters, but you knew that this was the work of the Bene Gesserit.

The rest of the flight was silent and the ornithopter landed at the new Atreides Palace. Leto got out first and you were surprised when he held out his hand to help you down.

Leto and Gurney started talking about Arrakis and you stayed close to them as they walked in, Gurney left to talk to someone and Leto turned to you.

— It's a beautiful dress.

You swallowed and nodded.

— Indeed.

A maid came and said that Thufir was calling you. You followed her and soon you were in a large room, Thufir waiting for you there, the maid leave.

— Milady, I must inform you that Lady Jessica has chosen a governess. — you blinked at him in confusion. —The duchess must choose a governess, no?

— Lady Jessica is used to this, I presume, she had better do it.

#x reader #duke leto atreides #duke leto #leto atreides #fem reader #paul atreides #jessica atreides

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 12- Formal Wear

Duke Leto Atreides x fem!reader

Word count- 1.5k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), established relationship, reader wears a dress but it's not described to it's open for interpretation, praise kink, no use of y/n

Notes- I wasn't originally going to write for Leto but I was suddenly in the mood and this prompt fits so well! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

“My love are you read…” Duke Leto’s voice trailed off as he stepped through the threshold to your room and admired your figure in the low light.

“I am,” you turned around with a soft smile on your face. But, you looked down in embarrassment when you saw the way the Duke looked at you.

He looked at you in your formal dress as if he could devour you with his eyes. He looked at you as if he were a teenager again with no control of his expression. He looked at you as if he wanted to pounce on you and ravish you then and there. 

And pounce on you he did.

Leto crossed the room in a flash as instant grabbed you and yanked you against him, “My love,” he purred as he kissed your neck, “You look divine.”

You yelped at the sudden action, but quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles as his lush beard tickled your skin. Your skin warmed under his touch, and his gaze, and your heart fluttered at the way the normally composed man completely lost his cool at the sight of you all dressed up.

“My Lord,” you hummed, letting out a soft moan when he licked at a sensitive spot on your neck, “If we don’t go now, we’ll be late.”

“I don’t care,” Leto’s tone was low as he kissed his way up your neck and palmed your breasts through your dress.

“But,” you moaned as your mind swam, “It’s to honor you,” you squeaked when he dipped his hand under your dress, “We… Oh…”

“It doesn't matter to me,” the Duke said in a voice that made you clench your thighs together, “My love, all I care about right now,” he growled, “Is fucking you in this dress.”

“My Lord,” you whispered.

“Say my name,” he demanded softly, “I want to hear you say my name.”

“... Leto.”

He pulled his hand out to grab your hips and yanked you even closer so that your chest was flush against his. Leto took the opportunity when you dropped your mouth open in a silent gasp to take your lips with his. The kiss was deep and desperate and heated. His hands stayed firm on your hips to keep you close, as if he couldn’t get you close enough. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth, playing with your own tongue as he did so. Leto kissed you as if it were the first time, and to him every time he got to kiss you felt like the first time all over again.

Being with you never got old to Leto, and he craved you more and more with each passing day. Which was why when he saw you all dressed up in your best gown, he lost all his composure. The reception, the honor, the rest of the universe could wait. You were his entire world at that moment.

“Let me see how beautiful you are,” he purred as he broke away. Leto let you step back just enough so he could take in the sight of you once more, but he never let go of his grip on your hips.

“Leto,” you playfully chastised him from the way he not so subtly looked you up and down. But, you also took the moment to get a better look at him in his best uniform. Leto was always handsome to you, but the sight of him in formalwear took your breath away. Suddenly you didn’t care about the reception either. “You’ve never looked more handsome, Leto,” you cupped his face.

He smiled, a big beautiful smile that not many got to see, “My love,” he murmured before he took your lips once more.

This time, the kiss was deep and slow, and Leto dipped his hands underneath your gown once more. You clung to his shoulders as you adjusted yourself to give him better access. And when his fingers made contact with your clit, you squealed into his mouth.

Leto hummed in approval as he fiddled with your clit gently. You felt his smile even when his lips never left yours, and you tugged at his jacket to pull him closer to you. It started a dance between the two of you- you pulled him closer, and Leto pushed you towards a destination. Neither of you ever fully broke away from the other as you ran your hands all across his chest and his stayed between your legs.

When you bumped into the desk in the far end of the room, you knew exactly what Leto had in mind. Without needing to look, you leveled yourself up onto the desk, with his help. That was the first time the two of you broke away from each other.

You looked at each other, breathless, for a few moments. Leto’s neatly done hair fell forward and the greyed curls framed his face. He looked like living art. His already dark eyes were blown black with desire and his parted lips let out his heavy breaths. Your breasts rose and fell with your own deep breaths, and you saw his eyes trail down to watch the sight.

“Like what you see?” you asked playfully.

“Very much,” he groaned as he leaned in to kiss you once more.

Passions rose as Leto pushed your dress up your legs while your tongues tangled together. He swallowed the moan you let out as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in close, as you parted your legs for him. A wordless invitation that Duke Leto eagerly took.

“I need you, my love,” he confessed in a hushed tone when he broke away for a breath.

“I need you,” you echoed as your foreheads pressed together while Leto unbuckled his pants and freed his cock. Instantly, your eyes landed on his hardened length, already throbbing and ready for you. “Please,” you begged in a whisper.

“You never have to ask me, my love,” Leto groaned as he pumped his cock a few times before he lined himself up with your pussy, “Fuck you’re so wet already.”

“Leto…” you whimpered as he slowly started to push into you.

You held onto him for dear life as his cock entered your pussy inch by delicious inch. You cried out as the familiar stretch burned so good. Incoherent babbles dripped from your lips as Leto fully sheathed himself inside of you.

“Fuck,” you breathed when he bottomed out inside of you.

Neither of you took anything off, and it only made the moment more meaningful. There you both were, dressed in your best, fucking on Leto’s desk. The desperation felt too great, and both of you were too turned on by the other in their formalwear to even want to take anything off.

Leto mumbled a praise as he started rocking in and out of you. He grabbed your ass and used the leverage to yank you closer, burying himself even deeper inside you. You cried out in pleasure as you clung to his shoulders and surrendered yourself to him. It was easy for you to relinquish control when it came to him, you trusted him, you loved him.

“Love,” Leto grunted, “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you,” you moaned as the room spun with every thrust of his cock. As Leto picked up his pace, desperate for release, you started to feel that familiar tingle build from deep within you, “Leto… Fuck… I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, my love,” he grunted as he pulled you closer and pounded into you, “Let me feel you.”

You screamed and threw your head back as your climax hit. Your legs trembled on either side of Leto’s body as you came hard, squeezing his cock as you did so. Leto wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as possible while you rode out your orgasm on his cock until yo uhad no more left to give.

And that was when Leto finally let himself go. With a groan of your name, he came just as hard. His cock twitched inside you as he spilled himself in your pussy. He continued to spill incoherent praises as he thrust himself into you over and over again, riding out his own orgasm.

When he himself was spent, Leto reeled forward, keeping you in his arms as he did so. The two of you collapsed down onto his desk and let out heavy pants as you let your heart rates go down to normal.

“We really will be very late now, you know,” you said with a laugh.

“It doesn’t matter,” Leto pushed himself up onto his elbows to look at you, “You are always worth it, my dear.”

You looked at him with a pleading expression as you cupped his face, stroking his beard under your fingers, “So are you,” you gently guided him down to kiss you once more, “So are you, my love.”

#fawktober2023 #kinktober #leto atreides #duke leto atreides #leto atreides x reader #duke atreides #duke atreides x reader #leto atreides x you #leto atreides imagine #leto atreides fic #duke leto atreides x reader #duke leto atreides x you #duke leto atreides x y/n #duke letro atreides fic #duke leto atreides fanfiction #duke leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides fanfic #duke atreides x you #duke leto x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fandom #dune fic #dune fanfic #dune fanfiction #dune fandom

[dunefandomhub]

Fic Rec Friday!

Each week I rec 3-4 fics from across the Duneverse featuring a different ship or theme each time!

I am open to taking suggestions/reccomendations at any time! Feel free to send an ask!

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen X Reader Fics

Turn the Inner Eye by @barbiedragon

Feyd-Rautha x Concubine!Reader

The Bene Gesserit trust in you to fulfill the prophecy

one-shot 1.8k words

Rated E

Thrown to the Wolves Series by @sansaorgana

Feyd-Rautha x fem!reader/Atreides!OC

After receiving the news from the Emperor about moving to Arrakis, Duke Leto suspects the upcoming war with the Harkonnens. His daughter's marriage with the Baron's heir is supposed to create an alliance and ensure his family's safety. Previously sheltered and protected Princess Atreides must now face the harsh reality on her own.

9 Parts

Diplomatic Relations by @lady-phasma

Feyd-Rautha x GN!Reader

No physical description of reader. Feyd is on a diplomatic tour of an unnamed planet (not Caladan) under Harkonnen rule. You catch his eye, smuttiness ensues. Plot if you squint.

one-shot 4k words

Princess by @valeskafics

Feyd x Corrino!Reader

Feyd Rautha makes it his mission to seduce you, the innocent younger sister of Princess Irulan.

one-shot 3.5k

DUBCON Dark Fic

#fic rec friday #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #x reader #fic rec #dune #dune fanfiction

[lowtaperfeyd]

Hi there!! I’m so excited to see that you have Dune requests open! 😊

Could I make a request for Gurney x fem!reader? I was thinking something angsty with her being either an Atreides or a member of the bene gesserit who is close to Jessica, and she’s forced into marriage with another. (probably more angst for Gurney if it’s to Feyd or another Harkonnen) angst to fluff or just angst, up to you!

Many thanks If you accept this! 😊

Sinking Ship, Abandon Ship

Gurney Halleck x Atreides!reader

author's note: I really hope you enjoy this one, because writing it was incredibly fun and entertaining!

(not beta read, we die like feyd-rautha)

warnings: mentions of death, a lot of angst, duke leto being an awful brother, house harkonnen.

wc: 978

The romance between Gurney Halleck and the Duke’s sister, (Y/N), developed slowly over time. The two who have been around each for decades, since before politics really mattered.

“You wanted to see me brother?” Questioned (Y/N) as she walked into Leto’s office on Caladan. 

“Yes I did (Y/N), take a seat.” He said anxiously, like he didn’t know what to say or expect.

“Is there something going on? You made this seem quite serious. You’re even pacing now.” She said, worried about her older brother, “this isn’t going to affect us going to Arrakis, right?”

“This isn’t going to affect us going to Arrakis.” Leto said slowly.

“Well that's a good thing, isn’t it? We leave in a few weeks and stay there to collect spice and try to converse with the Fremen.” 

The Duke interrupted her, “(Y/N) it affects you going.”

“Well tell me what's going on!” The sister retorted to her brother, annoyed that he wasn’t telling her things. 

“In order for us to have a certain amount of ‘safety’ on Arrakis, I have decided it is best if you marry the Baron’s eldest nephew. In order for this to happen, you need to leave tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” she whispered as a pinching feeling settled deep into her chest. 

“Oh!” he said, upset, “That's all you're going to say!”

��I mean what else is there to say!” She said as the tears began to fall down her face, “I’m leaving my family! my home!” The person I love! She thought afterwards. 

“I had no choice (Y/N)! It was this or the fact that Harkonnens may try to kill us on Arrakis!” He shouted

“So you’re going to have me die at the hands of them!” She yelled back at him, “I’m just a sacrifice for you!” 

“You’re not a sacrifice!”

“You’re right!” she hysterically shouted back, “I’m a lamb to the slaughter! A sacrifice would have more honor!” 

“(Y/N) listen to me!” Leto shouted to her. But it was too late, she had turned her back and started walking away. 

“Fuck off, Leto!”

(Y/N) began to walk the expansive halls of Castle Caladan. Walking past the paintings of her ancestors who once ruled the same planet she is leaving. The ancestors who had their own problems when they were alive. But those problems were solved by means of negotiation, not marrying off their younger sister. She continued to aimlessly plod around with tears running down her face. But, any guards who passed her didn’t say anything to her. Instead they went straight to Gurney Halleck.  

After about half an hour of wandering, (Y/N) was leaning against the balcony railing; that gave a spectacular view of the setting sun and its light that reflected off the dazzling ocean waves. The tears in her eyes had subsided and were now replaced with untimed sniffles. She thought about the days that were easier. How she would frolic with her brother when they were younger, along the rolling hills. Her and Gurney’s late night walks when they couldn’t sleep from plagues infecting their dreams. The walks which ended with small, sweet kisses and long hugs goodbye, before they returned to their own quarters. 

“The guards told me you were crying.” Gurney deadpanned, “if I am correct you just had a meeting with the Duke, is everything alright?” 

He began walking to where (Y/N) was standing near the railing. 

“Everything is fine, for everyone else,” said with a sad chuckle, “but for us, it’s a boat that's sinking and we can’t repair the hole.” 

He placed a hand on her back, “Why, what’s going on?” he said, concerned. 

“The Duke is sending me off to marry a count.” (Y/N) muttered.

“Which count?” Gurney said, trying to figure out a way to mend the situation. Thinking that if it was one he knew, he could make a compromise. 

“Count Glossu Rabban, of House Harkonnen.”

Gurney’s vision turned red. He could not believe the duke, the man who knew that the Harkonnens do not like the Atreides, would marry off his sister to a husband who would be cruel. 

“Why!” He said, before calming down so as to not yell at her, “Why is he doing this?” 

“Something to do with the safety of everyone else on Arrakis, I’m a form of collateral.” 

“So he's shipping you off to Harkonnen bastards!” He asserted, “Men who would kill you if you stepped out of line.” 

“I didn’t have a choice, Gurney…” She disclosed as more tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“Well I have something to say, (Y/N), I’m not letting them take you away from me.” He said with venom in his voice. Before shifting to a softer tone, “I’m not letting them take anything else from me…” 

“There’s nothing you can do, my dear.” (Y/N) commented, finally realizing what was going to happen to her. 

“Then, when do you leave?” Gurney responded as he turned around.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Then I still have a night with you, we still have a couple of hours.” Gurney proposed, “You’re not gone yet.”

“No, I’m not.”

The final hours Gurney and (Y/N) had very little talking. Moving into her bedroom to cry more and reminisce about what they had. How they had taken their freedom for granted. 

“Years ago, If you asked me to marry you, then we wouldn’t be here right.” (Y/N) whispered as she laid on her bed with her head on Gurney’s chest. 

“Years ago, if I knew you wanted to get married, I would’ve bought a ring.” Gurney added. 

That would be the last thing they said to each other before (Y/N) had to leave. Both of them too hurt by the Duke’s actions to say anything else. And a mutual feeling of betrayal by him too.

#dune x reader #dune #dune 2021 #gurney halleck x reader #gurney halleck #leto atreides #gurney halleck angst

[vintagegirl01]

Lizards and Pumpkins

AU Young Leto Atreides x fem reader

Summary: A ball is being held in the hopes that Leto Atreides will find an eligible maiden to marry as he is expected to become the next Duke of Caladan.

*This storyline will be similar to Disney’s Live Action Cinderella (2015). There the dress you will be wearing is like that one.

Author's note: This is my first fanfic ever. Therefore, please be kind about any feedback you all may have. Other than that, enjoy and let’s see where it goes from here.

When you get to the bottom of the steps, you notice the man from the forest you met a while back walking towards you. However, you had know idea he was the Leto Atreides of Caladan. You had been told that he was an apprentice in training but you had no idea you were speaking to the next Duke in line.

At this moment, you two are face to face with each other.

“It's you, isn't it?” Leto asks.

“Just so. Your grace…”, you respond and curtsy to him.

“If I may... that is... it would give me the greatest pleasure, if you would do me the honor of letting me lead you through this... the first…”, Leto struggles to say what’s on his mind due to being in a daze by your beauty.

“Dance?” You ask, smiling sweetly at him.

“Yes, dance. That's it.” He finally gets out.

While you and Leto start dancing, you notice the people surrounding you both.

You whisper to him, “They're all looking at you.”

At that statement, Leto smiles and says, “Believe me, they're all looking at you.”

——————————————————————

Leto pushes you gently on the swing in the secluded garden he shows you as you both carry on having meaningful chats.

A clink is heard, and you realize your slipper is off your foot. Upon noticing this, Leto stops pressing you, gets on her knees, and places the slipper on your foot.

With awe, he asks, "It's made of glass?"

"Why not?" you ask him, grinning.

Then, as though he wants to kiss you, he leans in close. "Will you please tell me your true identity?"

After giving it some thought, you say, "If I do, I think everything might be different."

Leto says, "I don't understand," with a perplexed expression. “At least, could you tell me your name?”

Just as you prepare to inform Leto, the clock chimes 11:59. That's when you recall what the fairy godmother said. You say as you turn to face Leto. "I must go now. It is difficult to describe. Pumpkins, lizards, and other things. You tell him you'll never forget it and thank him again for a fantastic night.

Leto murmurs, "Lizards and Pumpkins," as he watches you dash out of the garden. With a smile, he chooses to follow you.

One of your glass slippers slips on the palace steps as you walk to your carriage. Even if at first you want to pick up, you change your mind as you notice Leto approach you and climb inside the carriage.

When the carriage pulls out of the palace, you see Leto stoop to retrieve your slipper. You grin as you recall the amazing evening you spent with Leto. Despite your feeling that this is the final time you will ever see him.

You have no idea that Leto is planning to locate you. In one kind or another.

#duke leto x reader #duke leto atreides #duke leto x you #oscar isaac #cinderella 2015 #alternate universe #dune 2021 #dune part one #dune movie #dune #oscar issac characters #oscar issac hernandez estrada #oscar issac x reader #fairy tales #ballroom dancing #cute #duke leto #leto atreides #leto atreides x reader #leto atreides x you #beardless leto #house atreides #possible sequel depending on how this one goes