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#paul atreides x reader
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Okay I came up with this at work because I was left alone with my thoughts for 10 hrs.
Imagine a feyd x single mom reader except the baby is Paul’s. Reader used to be a servant in caladan and eventually her and Paul messed around, she approached lady Jessica in confidence for help but instead got sold off because Paul getting a servant girl pregnant was not part of her plan. Later feyd kinda saves reader from the a-hole who bought her but in reality he was there to kill the guy for betraying the baron and saw reader and decided he wanted her. He finds out she’s already pregnant but instead of killing her of getting rid of her he kinda hides her away so he can have his own secret lil family (maybe as a way to cope with the childhood that was stolen from him). Feyd has his harpies protect and hide her and the baby and over time the girls bond (baby is having the worlds most protective and feral aunties). Eventually reader tell feyd who the baby’s dad is and explains how she ended up at the a-holes house. Feyd finds the situation hilarious but still decides to protect reader and raise the baby as his own (not really out of love but more as a jab at Paul like haha I have your toys but they do eventually grow to care about each other, maybe not love but definitely a codependency). When the baby is born he immediately becomes attached to her (I must protect this tiny creature) which is a new emotion to him.For a couple of years baby girl grows up seeing feyd as her dad. Eventually the events of dune happen and right before Paul is about to stab him, feyd says something along the lines “ go ahead and kill me in front of your daughter”. Paul is understandingly confused until a lil 4-5 year old comes running out to feyd screaming daddy and using the voice to make Paul back off. Everyone can instantly see who her biological father is since she has his hair, eyes and is able to use the voice. Feyd would definitely have a shit eating grin when Paul learns that his mother is the reason his daughter grew up without him. Paul tries to approach her but she turns her head and says to feyd “daddy I wanna go home” and Paul’s heart just breaks at the realization that he lost his daughter before he even knew about her. Paul can’t kill Feyd since he would loose his daughter even more and they basically create a custody agreement where Paul can come and visit her every month.
Please if someone turns this into a fic tag me so I can read🙏
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@dreamlandcreations @triluvial @austinbutlerslovers @sansaorgana @purejasmine @sebastianswallows
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ginnysgraffiti · 2 days
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jealousy, unprotected sex, violence, anger, cursing, fingering, 18+
&. PAUL ATREIDES x yn
could you blame yourself?
no, not really.
not the way you claimed it, at least.
you always placed so much trust and respect in the visions that paul witnessed in his dreams, for they usually concerned the holy war or future events not clear to his complete awareness yet.
however, you never expected something like this.
you couldn't say exactly if it was due to the fact that you and paul had established an increasingly stronger connection and intimacy, but you were sure that it was definitely because of other factors.
paul and his intuitions had been (disturbingly) accurate for weeks, and your boyfriend was even able to see your sexual needs in his visions.
you liked it, yes. it turned you on like hell, and you knew it had the exact effect on him.
you recognized paul's gaze when he had visions of that kind, you glimpsed it through his hungry eyes and you experienced it when his strong hands destroyed your body.
you lived with a certain constant tension, but your inner self knew that you just wanted that moment to come.
"shut that fuck up! take my cock like the slut you are!!" paul's hand slapped your butt, causing a bitter tear to fall from your face.
this excited him greatly and with his other arm he twisted your legs around his waist, making you arch your back to welcome his wet and warm dick as deeply as you could.
you didn't know if it was your fault, but paul was so furious he would have swallowed you alive.
"look at me in my eyes, damn it! or do you want me to call him, uh? to call your beloved feyd rautha and make him fuck you like i do!?"
"paul-"
yet another thrust of his hips brought your hip bones to clash painfully with each other.
you left a loud and pleading moan but his quick fingers choked you in time and reduced it to a pathetic strangled scream.
"who's the one who touches herself while feyd's name slips down her tongue?! her damn fucking tongue! uh?!"
"p-...paul it was just a-a...a vision-"
deadly move.
the bed creaked and for a moment you imagined the springs surrendering to its bloody rhythm.
your boyfriend grabbed your hair mercilessly, almost detaching them from the roots, while his cock was destroying your inner walls beyond limit.
you were crying, but you were just choking on your own moans and sobs, like a sinful child.
it was just a vision, in fact...but now he was going so rough and raw that crying more made you feel real slut.
your sight was still granted to you, even if your retinas were caged in tears as hot as spice.
you could see him, see your boyfriend taking your pussy with a heavenly expression on your face, perhaps the one you wore in his dirty visions.
his mouth was wide open with pleasure and his eyes closed with excitement. he moved his hips for his own burning pleasure, making you aching, sore and wet all in.
"I don't know what would turn me on more, maybe you really deserve to end up in his maniacal arms! you would regret it of course, but it would be too late to go back!!"
you wished somebody could hear you for your own sake.
the wet and sticky tip of his cock was roaming roughly inside you, but the initial pleasure had reduced you to an unbearable burning sensation. you could feel your chest confiding with every sob, but his hands would travel again, landing on your throat already full of purple, almost black bruises.
"you're so soaked, you little whore. you don't even deserve it, on my sheets!!" he groaned, his own anger causing every vein to pump on the smooth skin of his neck, making him there red with anger every time the jugular pumped before your eyes.
he grunted like an animal too proud for the zoo. he wanted to destroy you until you couldn't stand up anymore.
humiliation.
you could feel his tip reaching the deepest places. you knew that paul didn't care about protections in these extreme cases (even if it was the first time he was so out of it), thus implying that he would even risk pregnancy to satisfy his dick to the point of nausea.
"you hold on too well-"
you held the sheets for dear life when you felt him pushing away but replacing his sex with one of his agile fingers between your sores.
you gasped as he pecked at all the soft spots of yours. he knew too damn well you were too vulnerable and breakable when it came to his experienced hands.
at the same time you knew how much effort would be required of him to make you suffer precisely, hoping he would get tired.
"so fucking sensitive-"
he inserted another finger, moving at an exorbitant speed. you could feel your wetness even reaching his wrist.
ashamed again.
"p-paul-...i beg-"
he entered you using his thumb to reach your clit.
you moaned as he lapped at your walls, sliding his sizzling tongue into the heat.
he raised his lips sucking greedily, sliding two fingers in once more.
his grunts made everything wetter.
your body came moaning and shaking, your eyes rolling back.
you whimpered as you felt his cock filling you up, preventing you from coming any further.
"p-...paul, you know you're...the only one i love! a vision doesn't mean anything! i-...i- had always loved you, you're the boy of my life, the one who always had all his trust posted about me. so i ask you praying...believe me..."
your boyfriend moved one inch, hitting your weakest and most stimulated point.
you could feel a slight gag rising in your sore and dry throat as the last bit of lucidity left your body in a deep sleep.
[...]
when you wake up a strong pang pierced your forehead, making the room square and moving around you.
paul was curled up on you, not completely resting on you so that his weight didn't give you even more trouble regaining consciousness.
his white and puffy cheek was resting on your bare breasts, a hint of saliva at the sides of his red and swollen mouth.
you couldn't move so you didn't even try, until you felt something holding you back.
paul was lightly sleeping thanks to a bene gesserit relaxation technique, you could now sense that he was completely alert and attentive to your needs.
his delicate hand was hugging your wrist, listening to your heartbeat since you had probably passed out.
you knew that in the end, he loved you more than anything on that planet.
you were his duchess already.
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yandere-wishes · 3 days
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⭒ㅤׂ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʀᴜɪɴɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇㅤׂ ⭒
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⭒⌒★ Yandere!Dune Men x Reader ★⌒⭒
゜。♡ 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓏𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊 ♡ 。 ゜  
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☾⋆ Paul Muad'Dib Atreides | پل معادب آتریدس
He dreamed of you again tonight. Something cathartic laying across the sands. Your touch haunts his skin, tracing scars and stars across his cheeks. He wonders what you see him as, something sacred or something exotic. Neither matters so long as you love him...
Paul's a volatile star, always one breath away from exploding. You're scared to touch the golden boy, lest your fingers return burned and your skull rattles with the echo of the cosmos. Still, it's hard to miss the devotion when his lips grace your knuckles. Hard to miss the cacophony of his heart as it reverberates across the desert. 
ᯓ★ Leto Atreides | لتو آتریدس
Leto kisses butterflies into your shoulder, the taste of your skin feels like nectar on his tongue. His mind is always racing vying for your affection, your attention, your adherence. He traces your name across his star maps, each letter scribbled in a melancholy blue. You grace his chambers again tonight, it feels so wrong to only see your silhouette, to not feel your love bleeding like his does. He kisses you again, something akin to devotion. He needs to feel you under him again, needs to feel the softness of your flesh under his fingers. Something in him shatters, something inside him rearranges. You make him feel so erratic. Why must he love you this way?
𓆩⚝𓆪 Duncan Idaho | دانکن آیداهو
his lips taste of chaos, he pours his passion into you. 
He feels you rattle inside his bones. Feels you coursing through his veins like unaltered spice. He's on another mission, laying in the sand and daubing your essence into constellations. He dreams of your fingers running over his muscles pushing adoration into him with a rusted kitchen knife. Your eyes never gaze at him for long. And yet each stare holds the weight of a nebula. He falls asleep to the phantom melody of your sweet voice. Dreaming of returning to you once more. 
༺🕸༻ Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen | فید روتا هارکونن
There's a blade in his hand, blood marring pale fingers again. In every droplet, he sees your face. Phantom pains rampage when he hears your name. He dreams of you holding a knife to this chest, breaking the skin, and riving through muscle. Each night your ghost plagues him. Hurting him in all the ways he craves. He dubs you ecstasy, overdosing on everything he wants to do to you. Everything he wants you to do to him. He etches your name upon his bones, dedicating each open wound to you. He's going mad over the notion of you between his sheets, limbs entwined in a bloody mess. His tongue craves the taste of your flesh, starved like the trees on Arakkis. He must have you, he will have you. 
-`𖤓´- Stillgar | ستیلگار
Stillgar's love is a desert tune, the winds rustling through the grains before the breaching of a sandworm. He falls harder and harder with each soulful gaze. He's spent his whole life chasing prophecies that he's forgotten how to wholly love something not written in blood and legend. He prays upon every star, that the maker has written your names together. That maybe some prophecy exists where you are to become his. He watches you sitting across the dunes, watching as the sunset pales compared to you. He whispers prayers beneath his breath, hoping you'll be with him soon. 
݁˖☘︎ Gurney Halleck | گارنی هالک
He stiffens under your touch, under the sonority of your voice. His battered heart rattles in your presence, the air in his lungs freezes and he momentarily forgets that he is a soldier, a protector, a tool carved to fight for the Atreides. He's not meant to love, to crush, he's meant to kill, to teach, to follow. A weapon in every sense of the word. And yet he'd throw the world at your feet for a sliver of your attention. Gurney can't help the flames that grow within him. The raging pyro each night when he catches a rogue glimpse of you through the crack of your door. He wishes to kiss you, to hold you. To make you his in every way he knows he can't. 
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anystalker707 · 2 days
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Midnight sneak-outs
Pairing: Paul Atreides x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: You've just moved to Arrakis. Some distraction is nice, even if it involves your hidden relationship being discovered. Tags: he's very sweet / lots of kissing / hand job / this is not about 15yo Paul A/N: i've been writing less, sorry. i've been working out+working+studying, spending from 7am to 10pm out of the house, it's harsh
MASTER LIST
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          The air of Arrakis was thick and dry, enough to make your nose burn and threaten to start bleeding if you were outdoors without protection during certain hours of the day. It was very different from Caladan, uncomfortably so. You missed the cold breezes, the hikes along the woods, sleeping while it rained outside. The fact there was no way to escape this made you feel a little claustrophobic, but you tried your best not to be unpleasant, since the Atreides weren’t even obligated to bring you in the first place, but they couldn’t deny Paul’s requests, after all. You had to see the good side of it—even if it was hard and practically impossible. Arrakis seemed to trap you among its sands, even more so with how the Emperor had articulated that; it was just a one-way trip.
On the other hand, Paul seemed quite excited about it. He showed you some tools gifted to him by Duncan, the books he had found around. It was an excitement you couldn’t mirror, though you didn’t want to bring him down with it, since he’d always been so obsessed over Arrakis, extremely fascinated with it.
Paul looked over his shoulder as he walked over to the trees outside, ensuring you followed. “They say each tree consumes the same amount of water as five men. There are twenty!” He widened his eyes briefly as he placed a hand on the tree’s trunk, turning around to face you, with his free hand behind his back.
You furrowed your eyebrows, silently observing the lines of trees through squinted eyes under the harsh sunlight. They seemed sacred, holy. Their apparent aging and disposition—plus how they seemed cared for—demonstrated they held great importance. You looked into the horizon, trying not to dwell too much on the fact there were no mountains surrounding you; no hills, no woods.
“They’re huge,” you said with a hum, squinting your eyes more while looking at the top of the one you two were next to. “Are we supposed to be out here at this time of the day?” The heat felt suffocating, and unlike the cold from Caladan, you could barely escape it.
Paul shrugged, also squinting his eyes, though he was under the tree’s shadow, so you moved and joined him. It didn’t make much of a difference, and inside was probably a lot better, but being with Paul there for a little longer wouldn’t hurt. It was worth it. His eyes followed you, and his hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together to pull you closer. Paul took your other hand as well while leaning back against the tree.
“Are you feeling okay? We can head back inside,” Paul said cautiously, squeezing your hands as his eyes roamed over your features, green irises scanning your face, a search for something you couldn’t identify. Maybe you didn’t want to.
“Weather,” you said with a hum, taking a deep breath, but it failed to calm you down or do anything that mattered. The air was hot, almost burning your airways as they filled your lungs.
Paul seemed convinced, but he still looked at you as if trying to see past the armor you’d built, though he didn’t pry a lot, respecting the distance you imposed. Shaking his head, he pulled you closer instead, close enough to let his forehead rest on your shoulder and press a couple of kisses to it through the fabric. The worry that Paul usually only carried silently was not a little more evident as he stood there with you, trying to figure out how to help without suffocating you even more.
“Let’s head back inside,” Paul said, pulling you away from your thoughts. “We can go for a walk during the night. I want to explore around for a little, so it’ll be great, right? I want your company.” He lifted his head and looked at you in the eyes. A smile tugged on his lips after you nodded, eventually disappearing when he pressed his lips to yours in a soft peck.
The brief contact had your heart skip a beat and gave you comfort, even if just a little bit, even if just for a fleeting moment, and calmed the turmoil inside Paul’s chest.
          Arrakis was colder at night, and the great temperature variance was already predictable, given the planet’s characteristics. Still, it wasn’t bad. It was comfortable and refreshing, and the fact you didn’t have to wear formal clothes during the night made it more enjoyable, giving you a welcome false sensation of freedom. In contrast, Paul’s hand was warm against your own as you two walked down the halls of Arrakeen in deadly silence.
Hesitant steps eventually gained confidence once you two walked a good distance from Paul’s room, loosening your grip on each other’s hands comfortably. A guard or another walked by, but none of them seemed to notice you and Paul merged with the shadows, walking down the wide halls of the place, or maybe they didn’t want to.
It was quiet, unlike during the day, and it made Arrakis feel better, for some reason. Paul seemed as excited as he was during the day, pointing out details of the architecture or leaning against windowsills to take a look outside, peeking at the night sky and muttering about it. It was sweet, really. You spent more time looking at his face than at what Paul pointed out, making a light red tone coat his cheeks whenever his gaze caught yours.
Paul sighed as he ran his fingers along the drawings sculpted into the wall, walking each time slower until he stopped walking. “It’s pretty, don’t you think?” He looked at you again, a small smile lingering on his lips as he noticed how you paid attention to the wall as well.
“Yeah. Really catches your attention,” you muttered, meeting his eyes in the relative darkness and squeezing his hand.
Paul didn’t return his attention to the wall, instead holding your gaze. His hand tightened around yours in return, and it was practically a sign for you—a small sound escaped his lips as you stepped closer, compelling him to back up until his back met the wall. The corner where walls met was a discreet and darker spot in the hall where practically no one spared a look, so it would be even harder to be spotted there at such hours when the moons were high in the sky.
Paul’s breath fanned warmly against your skin as you leaned in, and you two just stood there in silence for a long moment, something between reaching a silent agreement with each other and checking if there was anyone nearby. From there, you didn’t need a lot of thought—your lips met Paul’s in a soft kiss, primarily tentative and gentle. His lips were warm and soft, just like you were used to, but something about kissing him in a hidden spot in the halls of Arrakeen felt different, compelling a new type of excitement to stir in the bottom of your stomach. Making out in a dark corner during such late hours of the night made everything better, the thrill and adrenaline that ran through your veins at the feeling of getting caught.
Your tongue ran along Paul’s bottom lip, snatching a soft sound from his lips, while his hand tightened around yours momentarily, hesitantly letting go so that his hand could hold on to your shoulder instead, to pull you closer to him. As Paul’s arms wrapped around your neck, he eventually melted into you, noticing your acceptance, his body tingling at the feeling of your arms firmly wrapped around his waist.
A soft sigh came from Paul the moment your tongue slipped past his lips to run along the back of his teeth and glide against his own, compelling his grip to grow tighter around you, with a new kind of urgency emerging at the deepening of the kiss, one you returned by pulling him closer and holding him tighter.  It could ruin your reputation, but it didn’t even matter now, not when you were lost in the way Paul kissed you, fingers gently caressing the back of your neck while his lips moved against yours in a perfect flow.
“Damn,” you whispered between kisses. Your attempt to catch your breath was disrupted by the continuous pecks that Paul kept pressing to your lips, arms tightening around your neck, so you ended up giving in and kissing once more, just enough to satisfy his need before your lips pressed to his jaw. Paul exhaled with a soft sound, arching his back to press more into you, groaning softly as he tilted his head to the side to give you more access to his neck and melted into your touch.
A sound echoed through the dark halls—a step? Door being closed? Weapon being adjusted? A shiver ran down your spine at the same time your blood drained to your feet, and Paul seemed to have the same reaction, both of you holding your breaths while standing as still as possible. It could be unimportant, just as much as it could be significant.
Your eyes met in the darkness, your breaths held in the deafening silence until your lungs burned, and you decided that if there were someone, they would’ve walked away. Or maybe that was just your brain convincing you to kiss Paul more, but did it really matter right now? The worries were slowly buried in the back of your head once your lips met his skin again, making his breath quiver. His arms slowly relaxed around your neck, and he was melting into your touches once again, whispering your name in a sweet and needy voice that made your heart flutter.
As much as you wanted to nibble and suck on Paul’s neck, it was a risk you didn’t want to take, even if most of his attires included turtle-neck shirts and vests. The young heir couldn’t be marked, couldn’t be touched, nothing that would ruin the Atreides’ reputation, and even so, he still indulged himself in a ‘hidden’ relationship with you, risking it all whenever proposing any sort of adventure that led you to situations like right now.
“I’m…” Paul’s breath hitched as his hands tugged on your shirt. A soft hum came from him as he shifted, managing to slip a leg between your own, allowing himself to grind against your thigh with a muffled moan. “Please,” he whispered, voice muffled by your shoulder as he pressed closer.
“No, we are—”
“Please…” Paul groaned. He buried his face in your neck, kissing a trail up to your lips, giving you a peck whenever you tried to argue against him. Who were you to resist that needy tone anyway? The way he made your heart flutter whenever giving you soft kisses, trying his best to convince you. A sigh escaped your lips before you leaned in again, taking Paul’s lips in another kiss, his bottom lip quickly caught between your teeth.
The thin fabric of Paul’s night pants was strained, tented up with the erection that ground against your thigh stubbornly until you gave his hips a harsher squeeze so that he would stay still—he did, with a whine. Among messy kisses, Paul moaned softly, trying to keep as quiet as possible while your hand slipped into his underwear and wrapped around his cock, warm and firm.
Part of you cursed Paul for having made you do that there, go all the way across the palace just to make out, but there was a different feeling to it, you couldn’t deny. Even if the chances were low, someone could still catch the two of you, and raise a scandal. Just the fact you could get caught by someone who didn’t know about your relationship, in general, made your heart race, something stirring in your lower stomach as your teeth sank harder into Paul’s lip. He whimpered, but the pain was nothing compared to the feeling that sparkled up his spine when your hand started moving around his cock.
Of course, it wasn’t the best thing in the world. It was a little stiff, but eventually better once your thumb ran across his tip, using the droplets of pre-cum to ease the friction, even if it didn’t do much.
“You’re dirty, Paul,” you whispered into his ear, squeezing his cock as you pumped him, trying to contain every involuntary thrust of his by pinning him against the wall with your free hand by the hip. His hands clung to your shoulders, most likely leaving scratches behind, despite the shirt in the way. “Does it feel good? Hm? Tell me?”
A soft whimper came from Paul in response, just at the same time his hips thrust into your hand. “Yes,” Paul groaned, voice strained as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder. His attempts to keep quiet result in choked gasps and shaky breaths, but it doesn’t stop the occasional moans from escaping his lips, quiet and needy, sending sparkles down your spine. “Feels so good,” he mumbled in a shaky voice; his cock twitched in your hand, leaking more.
You knew where to touch already, the pace that made Paul quiver and had his knees go weak, so all you did was to measure well how to use that, with slow movements and grazing your thumb against a spot under the tip of his cock until he could barely hold himself together while clinging to you.
Paul mumbled something that sounded like your name, incoherent, muffled against your shoulder, which was already damp from how he pressed his mouth to it to muffle his sounds—or at least try to. It was already growing sloppy with the amount of pre-cum that dripped onto your hand, and Paul was practically doing the whole job by himself already, fucking your hand while chasing his own release. You couldn’t deny the way it made you feel, the way you swallowed dryly whilst feeling him against you, but you were already going too far by now anyway. Maybe you could do more when you headed back to his room.
“Nngh, I can’t—” Paul gasped before his cock twitched more, and there it was—he came with a soft cry, quickly limiting himself to a hiss as his nails sank into your skin through your shirt. “Fuck,” he groaned, trying to keep quiet and hold his breath while riding through his orgasm, and he finally did so, with a soft whimper. His chest heaved up and down to catch his breath, fingers slowly loosening around your shirt, and he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze, blinking a couple of times. “You’re way too good,” he mumbled with a soft groan, pressing a soft peck to your lips.
“Oh?” You chuckled, pulling your hand away, and Paul quickly took care of adjusting his clothes again. “I’m not the one who suggested this, in the first place.” You glared lightly at him, and Paul shook his head in exaggerated frustration that immediately changed into a different expression when you started licking his cum away from your hand, humming faintly. “What?”
“Y’know—”
“Chambers. Now.”
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animesmolbean · 1 day
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Guardian of Light
(Female)
Author's Note: Well, this is the last chapter for Dune Part 1. But don't worry, I'm thinking about what to write for Part 2 chapters right now. But because there will be a lot more to cover in Dune Part 2, the updates for the story will be slower than Part 1's updates. Like, I'll post the Female and the Male, but the next chapter that continues the story will take longer. But the formula will still be the same. Female chapter first, then, the next day, the Male verison.
Side Note: Timothée in this GIFs! Ahh!! Kill me now, he's so attractive! I also just want to hug him.
Hope you enjoy the last chapter of Dune Part 1! ♥️
〰️
Chapter 12: The Fremen
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〰️
Paul ran up to (Your Name) when the worm left, almost knocking her over as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.
She hugged back just as tight, breathing heavily as her hand moved up to cradle the back of his neck. “I'm okay, babe, don't worry.” She muttered softly.
He sighed shakily, moving to his head to press his forehead to hers. “I was so worried about you…” He whispered, his voice shaky.
“Shh…. it's alright, baby. I'm alright.” She moved one of Paul's hands from her waist and placed it over her chest, where her heart is. “I'm right here.” She whispered.
Paul felt his best friend's heartbeat and he let out a shaky sigh of relief. Her heartbeat grounded him; he wouldn't know what to do if it stopped beating.
He nuzzled his nose against hers gently before pulling away from the embrace and taking her hand in his and started to walk off into the rocky mountain.
(Your Name) saw Jessica's worried look and gave the older woman's hand a gentle squeeze. Jessica squeezed the girl's hand back.
“How big are they? That was insane.” Jessica said, panting while leaning down on the rock.
“Someone called him,” the younger girl informed, looking around, feeling eyes on hers. She clenched her hand. “We're not alone.” She sighed to Paul and Jessica.
A Fremen male appeared behind Paul, making (Your Name) push him behind her. She got into a fighting stance, ready to summon the Keyblade if needed; as more Fremen appeared from the rocks.
“Do not run. You will only waste your body's water.” A familiar voice spoke.
(Your Name) turned her attention to the man that spoke. He was laying on a rock. She recognized him.
“Stilgar. I remember you came to Paul's father's council.”
The man, Stilgar, hummed, pulling down his cloth that covered his mouth. “This is (Your Name). The Haris Aldaw’.”
The girl tilted her head to the side as she listened to the Fremn mutter amongst themselves.
“This is the girl and boy I told you about. We can't touch them.” Stilgar replied to his fellow Fremen.
“Is she the Haris Aldaw’? Is he Lisan al-Gaib?”
“They haven't proven themselves “
“They're weaklings.” The same angry voice pull out a weapon.
(Your Name) was very close to summoning the Keyblade.
“Jamis…” Stilgar stopped the male. “There was a brave crossing they made in the path of Shai-Hulud. She nor he does not speak or act like a weakling.”
“My thumper saved their lives. Go back to reason, Stilgar. She's not the Haris Aldaw’ and he's not The One.” Jamis snapped back.
(Your Name) was about to prove the male wrong, but Jessica spoke up before she could act. “We have powerful friends. One for them being right here,” She gestured to (Your Name) who was standing in front of Paul, protecting him, “You help us off world, to Caladan, you will be well rewarded.”
“What wealth can you offer beyond the water in your flesh.” Stilgar spoke back, the Fremen now standing up from their crouched positions.
(Your Name) growled lowly, still in a fighting stance, ready to fight if needed.
Stilgar observed the trio, “The girl and boy are young. They can learn our ways. They may have sanctuary. But the woman isn't trained and too old to learn.” He made his way down his spot on the rocks, jumping in front of the trio.
The blue-eyed girl stepped in front of Stilgar. “You don't want to do this, Stilgar.” She warned in a low, threatening tone, staring at the older man.
Stilgar paused when he looked into the girl's eyes. ‘Sapphire blue…. the color of cobalt. They're his eyes.’ He thought to himself.
Paul and Jessica started fighting other Fremen who tried to attack them, while Stilgar lunged at (Your Name). The girl summoned the Keyblade and blocked his knife with it. Stilgar stilled at the sight of the key shaped blade, giving the chance for (Your Name) to push Stilgar away from her.
She got into a fighting stance. Stilgar lunged at her again but (Your Name) dodged rolled out of the way and the two started to fight.
Their blades clanged as they collided with each other. At one point, Stilgar managed to disarm (Your Name), the Keyblade flinging out of her hand. Stilgar pointed his blade at the girl's throat.
Everyone else stopped fighting to see this happen. The mother and son were worried when (Your Name) was disarmed.
But (Your Name) smirked and raised her hand to the side of her. The Keybalde disappeared and reappeared in her hand.
The move took Stilgar off guard, and she knocked his crysknife out of his hand. He tried to back away, but she shot off a Blizzard spell at the older man, freezing his legs in place. The attack stunned him, and (Your Name) pointed her Keyblade at him threateningly.
“I did warn you.” She growled.
Paul felt a shiver run down his spine at (Your Name)’s tone. His cheeks felt warmer, and his eyes became hazy as he panted softly, loving the sight of his girl being threatening.
Stilgar was in awe at this girl's power. “So it's true, you are the Haris Aldaw ‘,” Stilgar muttered, then added louder, “Why didn't you just show us your blade?” His question came out shaky, showing his nervousness.
“You didn't exactly ask nicely.” (Your Name) spoke, walking closer to the older man.
“Peace, woman, peace. I judged too hastily.”
The girl sighed softly, using her Fire magic to unfreeze Stilgar.
“The sun is rising. We must reach Sietch Tabr.” Stilgar informed the Fremen in their language, “The fate of the strangers will be decided there. Until then, they are under my protection. I give you my word.” He opened up his stillsuit a little, cutting his skin to show his promise and the other Fremen followed alongside.
Paul walked up to (Your Name), who now made her Keyblade disappear. She looked at Paul, seeing he brought another girl with him, making her curious as to who she was. The male came over and gave his friend a tight hug, which she returned. They parted when they heard Stilgar speak,
“Chani, take charge of the newcomers. See that they are safe on the journey. Let's go “
“I will not have them.” A voice spoke out.
“Jamis, I have spoken. Be still.” Stilgar said, and (Your Name) narrowed her eyes on Jamis, standing close to Paul.
“You talk like a leader but the strongest leads. She bested you. I invoke the Amtal.”
(Your Name) summoned her Keyblade again, ready to fight him but Paul grabbed her arm gently, stopping her. Jessica walked forward as well but was stopped by Stilgar's voice.
“You may not challenge a sayyadina, nor the Haris Aldaw’.”
“Then who will fight in her name?”
Stilgar turned back around to his friend, “Jamis, don't do this. Don't. The night is fading.”
“Then the sun will witness this death. Where is her champion?” Jamis asked the group in a growl.
Paul gave (Your Name) a kiss on her temple and stepped forward to accept the challenge
“No… Paul don't…” She whispered, going up to following him, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Chani, who shook her head gently.
“I accept her champion.” Jamis nodded his head.
〰️
Everyone was getting ready for the fight.
(Your Name) walked over to Paul, who was getting ready to fight Jamis.
She saw Paul staring ahead and she guessed that he was seeing another vision. (Your Name) placed a hand on the side of his face.
Paul snapped out of his trance and looked at (Your Name) when he felt her gentle touch and turned to look at her. “You don't have to do this, Paul. I could do it.”
The curly haired boy frowned and shook his head. “Absolutely not. You're not doing it, (Your Name).”
“But-” (Your Name) started to protest but was interrupted by Paul.
“You're too important,” He let out a shaky breath, “You're too important to me.” Paul placed his hands on the girl's cheeks, cupping her face.
“I would rip apart all the universes just to get you back (Your Name). That's how important you are to me.” He looked into her sapphire blue eyes.
(Your Name) felt her eyes get watery at Paul's confession. “Paul… I feel the exact same way about you too,” She cupped the sides of his face, “But please…. be careful. I don't know what I would do if you got hurt or got killed.” She whispered, sniffling.
Paul moved closer to (Your Name), their bodies gently pressed against each other's. He wrapped his arms around the girl's waist, pressing the side of his face against hers. (Your Name) returned the hug, wrapping her arms around Paul's neck. They stay like this for a few moments before pulling away a little.
The childhood friends pressed their foreheads against each other's. They were so close that they could feel their breaths against their lips. If one of them moved their lips, they would end up kissing.
(Your Name) could feel her heart beating fast as she looked into Paul's hazel green eyes. Her heart beating even faster when Paul leant in, parting his lips and gently crashed his lips against hers. She gasped softly against his lips but kissed back. The warmth of his mouth sent a tingling sensation all throughout her body, making her tremble; as Paul wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her even closer, leaving no space between them. (Your Name)’s eyes fluttered shut as did Paul's.
Their lips were in fast but soft sync against each other. (Your Name) slid her hands to Paul's curly brown hair, feeling the locks in between her fingers, gently tugging on them on instinct, making Paul moan softly against her lips. Paul caught the girl's bottom lip in between his lips slightly.
The action made (Your Name) weak in the knees, but she almost keeled over when she felt Paul's tongue drag across her bottom lip, silently asking for entry. She opened her mouth, silently giving him access and she let out a muffled moan when she felt Paul's tongue slide into her mouth, caressing her tongue with his. Butterflies danced throughout her belly as they two made out, their tongues caressing each other's, as they held onto each other for dear life.
(Your Name) could feel her body heat up the more they continued. She never felt like this before, and she loved every second of it.
The two turned their heads in opposite directions as they deepened the kiss even further. When Paul's tongue circled around (Your Name)’s slowly, she almost bent down, feeling her knees weaken more. Paul held her up, not letting the kiss break.
Paul moved his left hand to her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. The coldness of the ring on his finger felt cold against (Your Name)’s warm cheek but she paid it no mind, as she carded her fingers through Paul's soft curly locks.
The two moved their lips in perfect, passionate sync, their bodies pressed against each other's, worried that not feeling each other would drive them crazy.
After a few more minutes of passionately kissing, Paul slowly removed his lips from (Your Name)’s, making a soft smacking sound. He breathed heavily as he pressed his forehead to hers. He opened his eyes slowly as his hazel green hues stared into (Your Name)’s sapphire blue one's, seeing them sparkle with love.
“I love you…” Paul exhaled, trying to control himself after the passionate moment. His voice came out raspy and deep, making (Your Name) blush and tremble against him.
“I love you too… more than everything.” (Your Name) breathed out, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She moved her hands out of Paul's hair and cupped his jawline. “Be careful when you fight that man.” She whispered to him.
Paul nuzzled his nose against (Your Name)’s, comforting her. “I promise.” He nipped her bottom lip gently, “For you, my love, I promise…”
The blue-eyed girl sniffled softly, “I love you so much.” She whimpered faintly. She spoke so softly that it probably couldn't even be heard.
But Paul heard her. “I love you too.” He cooed, leaning forward and capturing her lips into another kiss. This kiss was soft and tender.
The lovers broke apart and looked into each other's eyes.
Their tender moment ended when they heard someone walking towards them. They turned and saw it was Chani.
“I don't believe you are the Lisan al-Gaib,” She said to Paul, before turning her head to (Your Name), “I believe you are the Haris Aldaw’ though.” She gave the girl a small smile but it faded quickly.
(Your Name) smiled softly at the girl, pressing herself closer to Paul's body.
Chani turned her attention back to Paul, “But I want you to die with honor,” She reached and gave him a blade, “This crysknife was given to me by my great aunt. It's made from a tooth of Shai-Hulud, the great sandworm. It would be a great honor if you die holding it.”
Paul took the blade with his gloved hand, observing it as (Your Name) looked at Chani like she was crazy for how she thought Paul was going to die, furrowing her brows together.
“Where is the outworlder?!” Jamis yelled, walking back and forth around the fighting area.
The trio's eyes went to him then the lovers turned to Chani when she spoke, smiling tightly, “Jamis is a good fighter. He won't let you suffer.”
Chani was about to walk away, but (Your Name) stopped her when she spoke, “It was nice meeting you, Chani.” She spoke, a kind smile on her face.
Chani nodded her head to the girl, lips lifting up into a small, playful smirk, “You too, (Your Name).”
Paul grabbed his girlfriend's hand and walked over to the fighting area where Jamis was squatting, waiting for Paul.
Paul turned to (Your Name) seeing her scared expression. He reached his hand out and cupped the side of her face, “I will be alright, love.”
(Your Name) lent into the touch, rubbing her cheek against Paul's gloved hand, “I know you will be.” She whispered, a soft smile on her face.
Paul returned the small smile and leant forward and kissed the girl, their lips moving in perfect sync. Paul kissed her harder and deeper, making the girl whimper against his lips, gripping at his waist.
He pulled back from (Your Name)’s lips, both of them panting. He captured her bottom lip between his teeth gently, playing with it a bit before letting it go. He nudged his nose against hers before walking over to where Jamis waited.
(Your Name) walked over to Jessica. The older woman wrapped her arms around the girl, comforting her while she watched the love of her life fight.
“May thy knife chip and shatter.” Jamis spat, standing up from his kneeling position.
Paul just started, a serious expression on his face before he saluted using his blade.
They started fighting and Paul was deflecting hits well, getting hits on Jamis as well who returned the hits. Thought, at one point, Paul got close and aimed the at Jamis’ throat,
“Do you yield?!”
Paul's aggressive yell made the Fremen speak amongst themselves. (Your Name) held onto Jessica tighter, inhaling and exhaling softly in worry.
“The boy does not know our rules. There is no yielding under the Amtal rules. Only death is the test of it.”
Stilgar's words made (Your Name)’s eyes widened in fear as she turned her attention back onto the fight, worry gnawing away at her.
Jamis moved out of Paul's grip, and they started fighting again. Paul kept landing hits and dodging attacks, not aiming to kill. This made Jamis impatient and angrier.
“Is he toying with him?” Stilgar asked the women.
“No.” (Your Name) replied softly, “Paul has never killed a man.”
Jamis had shoved Paul onto the ground hard, yelling; provoking Paul.
Paul stood up, his curly hair covering his face slightly, staring at Jamis with a determined look.
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(Your Name) was now more worried about the other male than her boyfriend.
Then, Paul attacked. He ran forward past Jamis, dodging an attack, and stabbed Jamis in the side, ending the fight. He had become the man he was supposed to be, even if he didn't want to.
(Your Name) let out a shaky exhale as Jamis’ body fell to the ground. All the Fremen stood up, moving down to take their defeated friend.
Paul walked away slowly. The Fremen patted his shoulders on the way as he made his way over to where his girlfriend was, his hair covering his face and his head down.
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(Your Name) left Jessica's arms as she jogged over to Paul. They met on the side of the fighting area. They made eye contact and (Your Name) saw; just by looking into Paul's eyes, that the old Paul was gone.
Paul's face held so much sorrow and dread. It made (Your Name)’s heart clench. She saw tears well up in his eyes and she didn't even hesitate to hug him tightly.
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The curly haired boy hugged back just as tightly, wrapping his arms around her waist.
(Your Name) pulled away to look at Paul's face. She wiped the blood under his nose with her thumb. Paul's lips quivered terribly at her gentle touch.
The blue-eyed girl cupped his face in her hands, thumbs caressing his cheeks. “It's okay,” She cooed, “You're okay.”
Paul just stared at his girl, looking into her soft sapphire blue eyes, watching her lean closer to him. She gently placed her lips against his. Their lips immediately started moving eagerly yet softly against each other's.
(Your Name) could feel Paul's lips trembling against hers, so she slowed the kiss down. Paul rubbed his thumbs against the sides of the girl's stomach, making her breathe out a soft whistle from her nose, sounding like a breathy giggle.
The reaction was all that Paul needed to feel better as they pulled away from the kiss, but not entirely; their lips were now just caressing each other's.
“You did what you had to Paul…” She whispered, brushing her nose against his.
Paul closed his eyes, letting out a faint whimper and pressed his forehead against (Your Name)’s. “I love you so much…” He breathed out, his voice shaky.
“I love you too..” She whispered back, nuzzling her nose against his again, which he graciously returned.
“You're one of us now. A life for a life.” Stilgar's voice broke the couple apart, “Come with us to Sietch Tabr.” He looked between the couple.
“No,” Jessica interjected, “They need to get off world. You must have ways. You have smugglers, you have ships.”
“No,” Paul stopped his mother, “The Emperor sent us to this place. And my father came… not for spice, not for the riches, but for the strength of your people.” Paul glanced down to the love of his life, seeing her smile at him, nodding her head; “Our road leads into the desert. I can see it. If you'll have us, we will come.”
〰️
The Fremen led (Your Name), Paul and Jessica into the desert, as they walked on the sand. The sun was now high and the sky a soft blue.
(Your Name) stopped, admiring the scenery. She looked closer and saw someone, more like a Fremen, riding a worm through the sand.
“Desert power.” She whispered in awe, smiling widely at the sight. She thought about out if she could do something like that, or something greater.
Chani heard her turning around to smile at (Your Name), “This is only the beginning.”
The blue-eyed girl smiled to herself, watching Chani walk off. Then, she felt a hand on her jawline. She turned and saw Paul.
With her attention on him now, Paul kissed her passionately. The girl hummed against his lips, placing her hands on the sides of his neck.
The couple pull away, both for then smiling softly before they rub their noses against each other's.
They looked into each other's eyes as the sun shined down brightly on them.
Their journey was only beginning.
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cosmictheo · 24 days
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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha
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(gif credits to @pascow)
— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)
writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!
ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)
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Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.
Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.
However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.
“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.
“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”
“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”
“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”
“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.
“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.
The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”
He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.
Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.
You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.
Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.
“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.
And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.
Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.
Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 
You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”
Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.
He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.
“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.
He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.
“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.
Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.
“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”
You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.
Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.
You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.
Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.
“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”
You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.
“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.
“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”
Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.
It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.
“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”
When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.
“You fear me?”
He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.
He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.
“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”
“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”
“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”
“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”
After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”
He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.
Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.
Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”
From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.
But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.
He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”
You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.
“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.
He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.
You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.
“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”
Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.
“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.
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multific · 3 months
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In Sickness and In Health
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Paul Atreides x Reader
Summary: Paul fears leaving you while you are sick.
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Paul hated to leave you alone, especially since you haven't been feeling so well lately.
Paul knew he needed to go with his father, but he didn't want to.
"I will take care of her." his mother tried her best to reassure him, but Paul was worried.
The love of his life, his beautiful wife has been forced to bedrest for the last few days.
The doctors examined you and determined that you had a simple illness.
A simple one, yet you suffered greatly because of it.
You had a high fever, you could barely eat and sleep was a difficult task.
You were separated from Paul the second day of your illness, now, he was only allowed to visit you.
He was kind enough to bring you books or read you some of his own.
"You must go, Paul, your father expects you to."
"I do not care. I don't wish to leave you alone."
"I understand, but I will be fine, I do feel better already, so please, don't worry too much."
"My mother said she will visit you often," he said as his grip tightened around the book he was reading to you. "I still don't want to leave you." he promised to be by your side, in sickness and in health.
"I will be fine." you said with a smile. Your smile made him believe that it might be all fine after all.
Yet, his worry never left him.
The next day, he left with his father.
Lady Jessica kept her promise and visited as often as she could.
You even started conversations with her. And she did enjoy talking about Paul when he was young.
Then, she even mentioned her marriage, and how she wished you and Paul wouldn't have to face the same or similar difficulties.
The week soon passed, and you were much better as you awaited Paul's return.
And soon enough, you were told that he was landing.
You rushed over, by the time you got there Paul was already off the ship, making his way to you.
"Paul!" you smiled as you slowly jogged over to him, he fully started running.
You opened your arms and wrapped them around him as he lifted you off the ground. You giggled into his ear.
"I'm so happy to see you." he said. "You look so much better."
"Your mother gave me a special tea, it truly helped," you said as he finally put you down on the ground and kissed you.
"I missed you so much." he said and you laughed a little.
"I missed you, Paul."
Paul never felt so relieved in his entire life. He was worried about coming back, so when he saw you, full of life and smiles, running over to him, the weight from his shoulders just disappeared.
All his worries left his body in a matter of seconds.
He held onto you tight and strong, afraid to let you leave his sight as he watched your face, full of life, your eyes, filled with love as you looked at him.
Not even in his best dreams did he ever imagine coming back home and finding you like this.
He was forever grateful for his mother for healing you.
He made a vow to never leave your side ever again, and it is a promise Paul intends to keep for the rest of his life.
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Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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murdrdocs · 2 months
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do you believe in us?
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description. from a young age, you and PAUL ATREIDES believe you belonged to the other, and foolishly thought you could one day marry. not even an unlikely marriage between your parents will diminish those beliefs.
includes. STEPCEST, SMUT MDNI 18+, fem!reader, oral (f receiving), childhood best friends to stepsiblings, instigator paul, appearances by lady jessica, duke leto, and duncan idaho, sparring, sneaking around
wc: 5.3k+
a/n: title from us by movement. artwork credit to revol404 on instagram. ao3 link
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When you were younger, you saw Castle Caladan for what it wasn’t. 
In nearly all of your memories, Castle Caladan was warm and bright. The sun shone into the large windows, illuminating the gray hallways and providing a comforting warmth that seduced your young mind into seeing Castle Caladan as one of the residences from the fairytales your mother would tell you. In these memories you were always running and smiling, often hand-in-hand with your best friend. Your first love. 
Paul Atreides. 
Castle Caladan was the home of the person you cared about most. Therefore, visits were vacations. They were scarce, becoming more rare the older you got, but that only made you treasure them more. 
You and Paul would spend the entire day together, even going as far as to sneak out of your allocated bedrooms and tiptoe into the chambers of the other. In the morning, the maids would find two little bodies sharing a bed, hands reaching out to touch the other in the empty space between you both. 
And as you grew, you traded running around the halls for playing each other in chess. Playing throughout the fields was traded for walking along the shoreline. 
Sneaking into each other's bedroom only changed by the nature of intentions. You still ached to spend more time together, but the innocence of it was lost. In the solitude of the night, you would make up for the time lost during the day to Paul’s training as the heir, and your duties with your mother and Lady Jessica. 
When your mother broke the news, she misled you. 
“You will be permanently living with the Atreides family,” came her carefully chosen words. If she had not trained you, maybe it would’ve taken you longer to catch the implications. Maybe you would not have understood what circumstances had brought this upon your family until you were packing, or even until you were already en route to Caladan. 
Instead, it’s then and there that you realize how your chances have been lowered to none. 
Your mother had said your name, her tone as dry and disappointed as her eyes. “You will never be able to marry him. It is as I said.” 
And that was that. 
Your best friend becomes your step brother in the blink of an eye. Together, you made up the new and noble siblings of House Atreides. 
Your mother and Paul's father were married, and you and Paul now shared a last name. It was an immovable fact, no matter how often you and Paul attempted to convince each other of the opposite in moments of intense desperation. 
No matter how many times you tried to convince the other that marriage is a procedure that could be reversed should the need ever arise, you both knew that a reversal would be unlikely.
Duke Leto married your mother despite his clear love for Lady Jessica for security. If he could manage to commit such an act onto the one he loves, then there would be no undoing this.
Now, you see Castle Caladan for what it is. 
As beautiful as it is dreary. As cold as it is large. As encompassing as it is comforting. 
You sit at the breakfast table next to Paul and across from your mother. Lady Jessica sits at the end of the table, and Duke Leto, your stepfather, is absent. 
There’s no small talk, just the silent scraping of utensils against expensive china and the occasional audible gulp of fluid down throats. 
Every so often, you throw a curious glance Paul’s way, and the look he throws at you is in similar fashion. You both feel the stiffness in the air. 
Paul raises his eyebrows. He nudges them towards your mother and then his mother, and does the same with his eyes for emphasis. 
You slightly widen your eyes pointedly, your way of saying I know without having to say it. His lips pull up into a small smile and then you both turn back to face your plates. 
The tense silence continues for a while. Your mother addresses Lady Jessica. Lady Jessica addresses Paul. Your mother addresses you and Paul. 
And then your plates are cleaned and Paul is standing. 
“May we be excused?” 
It’s surprisingly a clear day outside, and you did not have to speak to Paul to know that he intended for both of you to enjoy the agreeable weather before Caladan was inevitably submerged in water once more later in the night. 
“You may be excused,” Lady Jessica confirms. 
You’re in the midst of rising from your seat and pushing the chair out from under you whenever you catch Lady Jessica’s eye. She does not say anything to you, but she does not need to. 
Just the cold gaze of her blue eyes alone are enough to make you sink back into your seat. From behind you, Paul calls your name. If you were not locked in a trance, you would have looked at him, you would have found the soothing blue-green of his eyes instead of the petrifying chill of his mothers. 
“I’ll see you later, Paul,” you tell him on your own volition, but you think that is what Lady Jessica wanted you to say anyway. 
She waits until the dining room is cleared of anyone other than you two before she begins to communicate. 
“You and my son…” Her words taper off and you are too busy focusing on the way her lips have only moved to take in another bite of her breakfast, and not to speak to you. 
While you understand the ways of the Bene Gesserit, it never fails to amaze you. 
“Ma’am?” You are playing dumb and both of you are aware. 
Still, Lady Jessica elaborates, “You both have had feelings for the other since you were young.” 
There is no room for denial so there is no reason for you to attempt it. You nod twice, casting your eyes down to your lap where your hands lay restlessly. You begin to pick at your nails as Lady Jessica continues. 
“And are those feelings still present?” 
Your answer comes entirely too quick. 
“No!” Your voice echoes around the room and you cringe. 
Lady Jessica lifts an eyebrow. She senses your dishonesty. 
You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. “Yes, ma’am. But we have not acted on them.” 
When she communicates this time, it is with her voice. 
“Good. You are a smart girl and your mother has raised you well. I’m sure you will make both of us proud.” She finishes off her food and sits straighter, wiping her mouth free of nonexistent residue with a white cloth. “Now I’m sure you have things to be getting to, right, dear?” 
You have never been happier to leave somewhere. You say your goodbyes as graciously as possible and leave the dining room. 
You’re in the training room exhausting yourself with slightly shaky jabs at the practice dummy whenever the door opens. There is a split second where you’re prepared to turn around and throw the next jab at the intruder, but then he speaks. 
“If I were Gurney I would chastise you for fighting with your back to the door.” 
You speak around your heavy  breaths. 
“Eyes in the back of my head, remember?” 
Your reference is one that goes back to you and Paul’s young teenage years. A phrase you confidently proclaimed once you and Paul both had begun extensive training, learning combat that could protect yourselves and your—then separate—family names should the need ever arise. (To this day, Paul is more formidable in combat than you are, but back then you could confidently hold your own.) 
Gurney had taken over training then, and he had allowed you and Paul to train together, solely because you were visiting during one of Paul’s less intense training sessions. 
(You believed that Gurney always had a soft spot for you and the Atreides heir. Not nearly as obvious as the one held by Duncan Idaho, but its existence is present within the weathered man.)
When Gurney had chastised you for fighting with your back to the door, you quickly quipped with a claim that you had eyes in the back of your head. When Gurney tossed a rock at your back, not big enough to provide more than a bruise against your skin, you were able to block it without turning around. 
Gurney was impressed. Paul was stunned. You attributed it to pure luck. Yet since then, it was never let go. 
When you begin to notice Paul approaching you, you credit your awareness of his movement to knowing him more than you knew your surroundings. You weren’t the most skilled warrior. Your mother belongs to a notable house, which forced you to learn slightly more than the basic survival skills. Some chastised her for withholding you from Bene Gesserit training, or perhaps more in depth training that would harden both your body and your mind. As far as she cared, you could hold your own in a fight, and that is all you needed. 
But you knew Paul. The ins and outs. Sometimes, late at night when you would allow the sickness of infatuation to fall upon you as you gazed at the stars, you liked to think that you and Paul were intertwined. You liked to convince yourself that your souls were intertwined and codependent. 
It is hard to dispute that claim when you know based on intuition alone that Paul is right behind you. 
(You can also feel his body heat and his presence behind you, but in your mind that is not nearly as romantic.)
You spin around to face Paul, your arms raised and body tensed with preparation to fight. 
Paul eyes your posture, cocks his head to the side, and mirrors it. 
It’s over quickly. 
Paul has your dagger thrown to the side within the first three movements. He has your hands restricted in his grasp in the next two movements. With just one more movement, he has your cheek and chest pressed against the wall with your hands bound behind your back. For just a moment more, he stands a respectable distance away from you. 
With the space between you both, the position could be passed off as friendly. The position could pass as the competitive nature it resembled. 
Until Paul takes a step closer and flushes his crotch against your backside, making you well aware of the stiff form within his trousers. 
For just a moment more, you let yourself revel in the feeling with your eyes closed, the rate of your breathing evening out now that you aren’t exerting yourself. You shimmy your hips just a bit, nestling Paul’s erection between your cheeks as best as you can with lack of movement and layers hindering your abilities. 
But then the moment is gone. You push it away when you speak. 
“Paul,” you intend for the syllables of his name to be a warning. At first, they come out as a pleading whine, so you clear your throat and try again. 
“Paul.” This time, it is firm and demanding. 
When Paul hums, it is against the shell of your ear. The proximity allows you to feel his voice instead of just hearing it, and you are instantly reminded of the times Paul had been on his knees between your legs and using the vibration that came from him to bring you pleasure you have not felt since. 
“We really shouldn’t.” You’re trying to convince both him and yourself. 
“Why shouldn’t we?” 
The question should not have to be asked. It is a question that should not need to be answered, for you both know what is preventing you from having the other in ways from before. 
You do not answer. Your forehead thuds against the wall, your warm breath rebounds against the wall and hits your lower face when you exhale. 
Paul starts to gently rock his hips into yours. His free hand, the one not restricting your movement, presses flat against the cement structure. 
When the pleasure increases, and your desire follows, you lift your head and let it lull to the side, resting the side of your skull against the toned muscles in Paul’s bicep. You start to give in. 
Your lips part in a moan devoid of any sound as Paul asks you again. 
“Tell me, my star. Why shouldn’t we?” 
He lets go of your hands, instead using his own for a more important cause. His palm glides up the side of your shirt until he reaches your breast. You cannot feel the warmth of his touch through your layers, but just the pressure alone is enough to have you choking around your words. 
“Because it’s not right, Paul,” you eventually tell him. 
Paul tuts. The hand on the wall meets your waist, his fingertips pressing into the area as he uses his grip to pull you back against him. 
“What d’you mean it’s not right?” He kisses the side of your neck and at this moment, you are considering letting him take you here and now. “It feels right, doesn’t it?” 
You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking. 
You had not realized just how bad you missed Paul until now. Your mind has conjured up images of him in your sleep, perfect replicas of his face created from memories of your time spent together and imagining what could be if you just release your inhibitions. When Paul gently sinks his teeth into the skin along your shoulder, it dawns on you that with just a bit more time, your dreams could easily walk into the waking world. 
Maybe you were just about to give in. Maybe Paul would have convinced you to let him finally have you. 
Either way, the moment is lost whenever Paul steps away from you, taking away all of the contact points in one singular move. 
You turn to face him with your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes already beginning to sting with rejection whenever the door opens. 
You turn your head, both stunned and grateful to see Duncan Idaho walking through, his stride strong and purposeful until he notices you standing in front of Paul. 
He takes a moment to cast his eyes between both of you. You watch his gaze flicker around the room, no doubt taking in as much information as he could, before he lands on you. 
“Didn’t know you were joining us today, Eyes.” It is no surprise that Duncan pulls on the same story from before for your nickname. Just as you have yet to let the anecdote go, he has yet to let the nickname go. 
“I’m not,” you tell him, attempting to subtly adjust your garments. It is clear that you were not as subtle as you could have been whenever Duncan eyes you up and down. You swear there is something akin to knowing on his face. 
“I was just leaving.” 
“Don’t leave on my accord. Paul could use more of a challenge, isn’t that right?” Duncan smiles teasingly and finally looks at your stepbrother. You do the same. 
(You are surprised to see that Paul does not look as flustered as you anticipated him to. You hope you did not pull the short stick.)
“Oh … yes.” Paul turns to face you with a smile similar to Duncan’s on his lips. “Join us … little sis.” The term of endearment sounds foreign coming from him. That is not the only reason why it makes you cringe. 
You understand that both of them are making a joke at your expense. There have been a few times where you foolishly joined Duncan and Paul during their sessions, only to get knocked on your ass by Paul and goaded into getting back up by Duncan. The cycle would continue until you could do nothing but lay in bed the next day, praying for a speedy recovery so you would not waste a day that could be spent in Paul's presence. 
Now that you live here, that one issue would be taken care of. Still, you prefer to be able to comfortably move around without bruises and aches restricting your movement. 
Although your mind is already made up, you cannot help but attempt to defend yourself. 
“Who says I haven’t gotten better?” 
Paul smirks. You both know that while you have improved, he has too. He will always be ahead of you. The compromising position you were in only a few minutes ago serves as proof. 
“Have you?” Duncan asks. 
Your reply comes in the form of dismissal, which you do as politely as you can, adding only slight annoyance to your tone that you could only display in the presence of Duncan and none of the other members of House Atreides. 
“Enjoy yourselves. Paul, I’ll see you at dinner.” 
Paul nods once and then you leave with the boisterous sound of Duncan’s laughter escorting you out. 
Dinner is much like breakfast. 
Duke Leto joins this time, which allows for much more conversation. But the stiff and tense air still permeates the dining room. It takes you half of your entree to decipher exactly where the energy is coming from, but it is so clear once it is revealed that you cannot help but beat yourself up over your previous confusion just a bit. 
Different from earlier in the morning, your mother sits at the head of the table with Duke Leto on the other end. Lady Jessica has been casted off and forced to sit across from you and Paul. She appears uncomfortable in the seat, constantly readjusting herself between quick statements that clearly express her discontent at the new arrangement. 
You would have focused more on the dramatics of your family dinner table if Paul were not toying with you beneath it. 
You are incredibly thankful that he kept his hands to himself, but his feet are just as insistent. Just as restless. 
They poke against yours constantly, not in an attempt to gather your attention as you would consistently send looks his way. Never were they returned. He would either be discussing his day with his father, talking to either of your mothers, or focused on the diminishing food on his plate. 
There were a few occasions where you thought Paul’s actions were accidental. You would draw your foot back, but when his covered toes found yours once more, you knew it to be another one of his games. It was juvenile and childish, but you found yourself allowing it to happen. 
You would take any form of Paul’s touch, so long as it did not compromise too much. 
You repeat your philosophy in your mind over and over again like the sayings of the Bene Gesserit whenever Paul approaches you. 
You stand in the center of your bedroom in your night clothes. Your curtains are still open, exposing the vast nothingness that the sea presents itself as since the sun has set. The stars twinkle above, and you had already prepared yourself for a night of tracing constellations before Paul entered. 
He stands in front of you, dressed just as down as you are. His hair is still a little wet from bathing, and you briefly recount the many times you played with the curls until they began to dampen and eventually dry. Each time, his hair would look unkempt in the mornings, but Paul never cared. He claimed that his hair was just a reminder of the night he spent with you. 
You would pretend to be unaffected by his sweet talking, only to flush at the memory of his words later in the day. 
“Are you listening to me, my star?” His words pull you from your senseless daydreaming. 
“What was that?” 
Paul’s lips tug up in the corners as he dips his head for a moment. When he looks at you once more, he takes a step closer. 
You knew why he was here in the first place, but the advance of his hand reaching for your waist still has your breath hitching. 
“I was wondering if you would let me have a taste of you.” 
He stares at you, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, you are losing yourself as you continue to look into his eyes, analyzing the way his long and dark eyelashes add depth to them for the millionth time. 
Eventually, the raise of his eyebrows cue you. 
“Paul,” you start with a soft tone, an attempt to keep it neutral. But Paul knows you just as well as you know him. Possibly even better. 
He senses the impending rejection woven in just the syllables of his name. 
He sighs. He pulls you closer by your hips. He rests his forehead against yours and presses his hands into your lower back. 
He says your name. No, he breathes it. His breath hits your lips before you part them. With his next exhale, you inhale. The pattern continues until Paul prepares to speak, but you interrupt him. 
“She knows.” 
You do not have to specify exactly who you are talking about. 
Paul sighs again, this time as if he is defeated. 
“Of course she knows. My mother is all knowing, didn’t you know?” He speaks with faux amusement. He’s lighthearted, and the emotion is completely misplaced. 
“We can’t go back to doing this, Paul.” 
He begins to speak over you, but you continue. 
“Paul, we can’t. No. No. It’s too dangerous. It’s too–”
“We can. Yes, we can, my star. Look at me–” 
You do as told, removing the touch of your foreheads from the others to look at each other head on once more. 
“What are you so afraid of?” 
The question is so simple. The answer is, too. It is one you have run over in your head day in and day out since moving in just a few months ago. It is the same response you reminded yourself of whenever Paul would touch you, even if it were just an accidental graze of his knuckles against yours. 
The difficulty comes with admittance. 
But in the safe confines of your bedroom, with nothing but the moon, stars, and sea as a witness, you open your mouth. 
“I’m afraid of losing you.” 
Paul shakes his head gently, sending little water droplets flying. 
“You will never lose me. You know that.” 
“Yes, I will, Paul.” 
“No. Why would you say that? We live together now. We’re bound together.” 
It takes a moment to wring yourself out of Paul’s touch, and when you do, he keeps his hands suspended in the air without making any attempts to straighten his posture. He looks dejected. 
You approach your window, staring off into the distance as you say, “Exactly. We are bound together in ways that will never reach marriage. We cannot get married.” 
Paul’s footsteps are near silent as he approaches you. 
“Does that mean you cannot be mine and I cannot be yours? What we have will always transcend marriage, my star.”
When you do not bother to respond, there is a resounding thud. 
You look to your side to find Paul on his knees before you. You, the bastard daughter, have brought the heir of House Atreides to his knees. Like this, with the low lighting in your bedroom reflecting the highest points of his cheekbones and emphasizing the valleys along the plane of his face, it is easy to remind yourself that Paul Atreides is just as much of a bastard as you. 
You two are in this together. Why should you not be together as well?
You are already planning to accept when he begs. 
“Please? Just one taste and I will let you be if that is what you wish. You have my word.” 
Typically, Paul is a man of his word. When you were kids and you accidentally knocked over a vase, a gift from another of the houses, Paul never told a soul just as he promised. When you had the tiniest crush on Duncan and let Paul in on the secret, he never told. He had given you his word both times. 
It is this time when you first are made aware of Paul’s capacity for dishonesty. 
Either way, you lift the skirt of your nightgown. 
Paul fits between your legs without much difficulty at all. While it may have been a while since you allowed yourselves this delicacy, it is as easy as breathing to return to the routine. 
Paul begins to lick and suck at your essence with appreciation derived from deprivation. His hands press into the fat of your backside, either to hold you steady or keep you flush against him. In any case, you are securely pressed against Paul’s mouth and he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon. 
You feel similarly, throwing your leg over his shoulder and digging the heel of your foot into the defined muscles of his back. Your hand presses against the glass plane beside you when Paul puckers his lips and sucks along your clit. 
The position calls for some maneuvering. You bend your standing leg, then grip Paul’s curls with your freehand, pulling him just a little closer to your center. His tongue has slid down to your hole and bringing him closer has bumped his nose against your clit. The bud catches the ridge of it, and you shamelessly run your hips side to side in an attempt to catch it again. Paul, noticing your efforts, does it for you. 
He grabs your ass just a bit tighter, adjusting your robes with one hand before returning to his handfuls, and then he shakes his head just enough to provide the stimulation you were searching for. He dips his tongue into your entrance, brings it back out, and repeats the movement. Coupled with the alternating shake of his nose against your clit, and your recent abstinence, you are close sooner than you would have preferred. 
You sacrifice your minute control over him when you free his hair from your hands, and instead imprison the linen fabric of your gown within your grasp. You pull your garb up, scrunching the fabric into your hand to get a look at Paul. 
When his eyes are revealed, they are already casted up towards you. They crinkle at the corners as if he is smiling at you, and the shape you feel against your cunt is confirmation. When he peels away from you there is a visible erotic sheen across his lips. 
“I forgot how good you taste.” 
He speaks to you casually, in a fashion to the conversations of nonsensical small talk you had been subjected to earlier in the day. 
For some reason, this makes your head spin. 
You nudge your hips back in Paul’s direction and he does not have to be told to return to work. 
There is so much slip and slide between your legs that you cannot tell what is your arousal and what is his saliva. The combination of fluids multiples whenever Paul slides a finger in your entrance, slinking it along your insides before he finds the spot. He pays extra attention to it, watching you as he slips another finger in to join it without much time in between. 
You have not been aware of the volume of your moans until Paul begins to flick your clit with his tongue, after which a croaky sound slips past your lips and it is entirely too loud for the circumstances. 
Your hand slaps over your mouth before you can stop it. 
Paul shakes his head, removing his lips from you but not his fingers. He chastises you. 
“Don’t do that to me, my star.” 
That is all he has to say for you to remove your hand and continue to let the sounds that encourage him spill out. 
(Luckily, your sleeping quarters exist further away from the other’s.)
It is only a few more moments before your lower abdomen tenses and an orgasm seizes control of your body without much warning in advance. You grip your robes for stability, press your fingers into the glass of the window, and keep Paul close with your leg wound around his shoulders. 
He had no intention of leaving at all. He continues to lick at you, now incorporating a loud slurp that is seemingly intended to clean you up.
When the twitching of your muscles has ceased, both of your feet have rejoined the floor for only a minute before Paul has your legs wrapped around his waist. 
He carries you off towards your bed. 
“May I continue?” he asks as he lays you on your back at the foot of the furniture. 
There is no hesitation when you tell him, “Please do.” 
You heard the hushed whispers echoing throughout the hall, spreading information that should have solely remained private to your personal quarters.
"They appear to be close. Too close," came from the voices of your maids, spoken with excitement as the thrill from sharing tales that did not concern them flooded their bodies. Like always, they were in small huddles, bodies curved into each other, their postings abandoned as they assumed that no Atreides would be wandering the halls at this house.
Except you were.
Your lightweight garbs noiselessly tap against your ankle with each careful step, freed from the extensive jewelry you were usually kept in throughout the day. As of late, your mother has been presenting you as a jewel in an attempt to delude the Houses into forgetting that you are a bastard. House Atreides wanted for you to be seen as the potential for great alliances. 
Paul was presented the same.
Marriage became the topic of conversation more often, and you and Paul played the parts you needed to. 
You played the parts necessary to continue this. 
His door is cracked just enough for you to silently slip in. 
“They were talking about us again.” The lack of romance within Paul’s greeting words do not matter as much when his hands wind around your hips. 
Still, you can’t help but tease him just a bit. Your hands find his shoulders, palms easily gliding back until you can comfortably tug at his dark curls. 
“Could you at least tell me you missed me before we dive into Castle gossip? What happened to romance, Paul?” 
He smiles at you like he had been expecting you to say something along those lines. He leans in, pressing his lips to your cheeks and then your nose.
“Hello, my love. How I’ve missed you so. I have no idea how I lasted this long without you.” He is exaggerating. It has only been a couple of days since you and Paul last met into the hours of the night. 
You scoff and gently slap his shoulders. You do not bother hiding the effect of his words on you. 
“I heard the maids talking on my way down here.” You dive into repeating the words echoing around the concrete castle walls, but the way Paul looks at you is distracting you. His green eyes plainly flicker from your eyes to your lips, back and forth, back and forth, with a speed that says he does not want to be caught in the act. His lips, slightly chapped but no less appealing, are parted, allowing his tongue to briefly appear before disappearing back into his mouth. 
You let your words taper off. 
“You can kiss me, you know.” 
He nods once. When he speaks, his voice is a gentle whisper. “I know. I just didn’t want to interrupt you.” 
“Luckily I’m done now.” 
Paul kisses you with familiarity. 
You knew that no matter what, you and Paul would be married off to others. But in your deluded mind, you figured that you might as well have fun while you could. You might as well pretend that Paul Atreides was yours, and you were his, until eventually that would be forced to change. 
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 month
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Her Emperor, His Destiny
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(Alpha!Paul Atreides x Omega!BeneGesserit!Reader)
Summary: Ever since Paul presented no omega has smelled remotely appealing to him. His only reprieve is his dreams that have been filled with nothing but an angelic voice calling out to him, the silhouette of a woman he can’t quite make out, and the sweetest saccharine smell. Wk: 3.2k
Warnings: General omegaverse behaviors, knotting, scenting, marking, breeding, Paul and reader are a soul bound pair, inappropriate use of the voice(by both Paul & Reader) , fluff, kinda love making? Idk this is much softer than my usual smut. I think that’s it, lmk if I missed any!! 18+MNDI!!
A/N: Listen… I know this is left field for me but I made a promise to myself that I would start writing for ME again, and that means writing whatever I want. I saw Dune 2 and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Paul is so alpha coded I feel like it was dropped in my lap.
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Paul expected the air to be different, smell different, out in the desert planes of Arkkis. Thus far it’s as he expected. The smell of spice and sand permeate the air to the point that it’s over powering, flooding every single one of your senses. The sand lingers on any inch of exposed skin practically borrowing its way underneath. The smell of spice is so strong that it feels like it’s drowning you, invading your lungs and nostrils, coating them, leaving your insides feeling like sandpaper if you dare breathe it in.
But as he follows Stilgar into the sietch he can’t even be bothered with the glares and sideways glances from the Freman because the further they walk the more his senses are hit with an overwhelmingly saccharine smell. It was like someone was baking the finest pastry mixed with a warm milk bath on a cold winter's day. He had only ever smelled something as sweet as this in his dreams. A scent he’s dreamed of so vividly that it lingered in his nostrils when he woke, but he’s never caught a whiff of it in waking hours until now. There was no doubt in his mind that this is the same scent. The scent that’s haunted him every night since he presented. The scent of his omega, his destined mate.
“I can hear and smell you scenting back there, Paul Atreides… I suggest you get your pheromones under control before we enter.” Stilgar looks back at him with an apprehensive look and Paul apologizes nodding in agreement. “Mating is a very sacred thing to my people. Each pair must be approved and blessed by the high priestess. And all unmated omegas rooms are on the opposite side of the alphas. It is very important that you follow all rules, but especially this one. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I understand.” He understood the rule but does that mean he was going to follow it? He could certainly try. But that scent was intoxicating and the closer they got to the sietch the stronger it got. He knows given the chance, he’d break that rule in an instant. Consequences be damned.
“Many wait for their soul bound mate and majority of them die alone, never finding the one.” Paul found this odd. Soul bounds are few and far between nowadays and he comes from a place where mating is a transaction, a bargain, something of power and not of love. But as that sugary sweet scent swirls around him, almost making him dizzy, he thinks he might understand wanting to wait for your one. It’s been a few years now since he presented and no omega has ever smelled even remotely appealing to him. They either smelled of nothing or downright revolting, his only reprieve was in his dreams. His dreams filled with that sugary smell and the figure of a woman whose face he could never quite make out.
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When Stilgar pulled his mother aside Paul found himself alone in a room filled with stares. Some looked at him in awe, certain he was their long awaited Maud’Dib. Others looked at him with disdain, snickering to each other as they shamelessly pointed his way. But he honestly wasn’t concerned with any of it, because as he sat against the stony wall the scent was stronger than ever. He could almost taste it. His eyes searched the room, craving nothing more than to put a face to the smell that has nearly become his drug. But as he looked across the various faces surrounding him, no one stuck out to him.
But he was certain she was in this room, if not this one than the next. That warm saccharine scent was so close it was as if it were right next to him. That’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Either this person was stealthy or he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear them approaching but when his head whips around to see who it is he feels like his heart is going to burst. He hears the sound of bells ringing, a sound that he’s only heard in the churches back home. There standing over him is the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen, beautiful, perfect, sweet smelling, you.
“Hello, Paul Atreides, I’ve been waiting for you.” You smile down at him sweetly, your eyes filled with adoration. You aren’t dressed like the Fremen, no tans or browns or stillsuit to be found. A black silky dress adorns your form, fitting you perfectly. There’s a sheer midnight colored scarf wrapped around your head and shoulders, framing your face like the greatest work of art. You weren’t Fremen. You were a Bene Gesserit. Or at the very least, one in training.
“I think… I’ve been waiting for you too.” Paul’s voice is trance-like, looking up at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. The sound of the voice you’ve heard so many times in your slumber sending chills down your spine.
“Won’t you come with me? I have so much to tell you.” You look at him eagerly, offering him your danity ringed hand.
“I don’t know if I’m… supposed to…” He wants nothing more than to follow you. He would follow you into one of the suns of Arakkis if you asked him to. But he knew he was already on thin ice here and he feared what would happen to him and his mother if he were to upset anyone further.
“Do not bother with them, they will see the way. They will see what I’ve seen. Soon they will be cheering your name. Come.”
Paul scans the room, all eyes are on the two of you but when he looks back at your reassuring smile it’s like no one else matters, no one else exists. He takes your hand, letting you pull him along through hallways and far away from prying eyes. You drag him into a room that he assumes is yours, shutting the door behind you.
“Have you dreamt of me, Paul?” You sit on the bed and pull the scarf from your head, leaning back on your palms. You look so beautiful and the room is engulfed in your scent. It clings to every inch of the space and radiates off of you in waves.
“Yes… have you dreamt of me?” He takes an apprehensive step toward you, leaving a few feet of distance between the two of you. His green eyes feel as if they’re eating you alive and the scent of him causes slick to rush into your panties.
“Yes, every night since I presented as an omega my dreams have been filled with nothing but you. And more recently I’ve had visions of you in my waking hours. Will you tell me, Paul, about your dreams?” Your voice is as sweet as your scent. The way you’re leaning back on your hands makes the silk of your dress taunt against your breasts, your peaked nipples on display. The sight of you and the unmistakable smell of your slick makes his cock stir in his pants.
“They aren’t very vivid… mostly just flashes of you from behind, the sound of your voice, you were always saying ‘come to me Paul, for I am your destiny’ but your scent? That was so clear to me.” He takes another step forward, reaching a hand out as if he’s going to touch you but he lets it fall to his side, like he thought better of it. “I didn’t know it was possible to have a sense of smell in your dreams, but night after night I was surrounded by your scent as I slept.”
“I could smell you as well and I smelled you the minute you arrived. But my dreams are much more detailed than yours. There is much you do not know.” You approach him, closing the small distance between you. You rest your hands on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”
“I’d love nothing more, omega.” His thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek before traveling down to push some of your hair off your shoulder. He’s looking down at you expectantly, eagerly waiting for you to speak.
“Your dreams are correct, I am your destiny, and you are mine. I can feel the doubt in your heart, feel that you do not believe in yourself, do not believe that you are the Maud’Dib but you are, sweet Paul. For I have seen it.”
“Tell me? What have you seen?” He searches your eyes for signs of doubt or deceit but all he sees is truth there. Truth and the same adoring look you gave him when he first saw you.
“I’ve seen you learning the ways of the Fremen. I’ve seen you move them, rally them. I’ve seen a battle in which you win. I’ve seen you upon the emperor's throne, ruling over all, with me by your side, our child in my arms.” Your hands travel from his chest to take his face in your soft palms where you rub soothing circles on his temples.
“You saw… all of that?” Paul’s voice sounded exasperated, like what you’ve told him took all the breath from his lungs. He feels like it has. The finality and bluntness in which you speak tell him that your words are true.
“Yes, and more. There will be plenty of time to tell you about it all. But right now? I need you.” Right as the words leave your mouth a gush of slick drips down your legs. The presence of your mate triggering your heat weeks early.
“Tell me what you need, omega.” His voice drops an octave, taking on that deep alpha tone. It makes your heart speed up as another gush of slick drips from your core. You can’t help but think what it would be like if he used The Voice on you. Regularless of how absolutely blasphemous that would be considered.
“I need you, alpha. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up and lock your seed inside me with your knot.” Paul lets out a growl before reaching out, one hand gripping onto your hip to pull you flush against him and the other going to the back of your neck so he could connect his lips with your own.
The kiss starts off rough, eager, and hungry. But after a few moments his lips become tender against your own, his fingers threading through your hair as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You grant him access, immediately intertwining his tongue with your own, moaning at the taste of him.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, my moon. Ask for it and it is yours.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat where he runs the tip of his nose along your scent gland, inhaling deeply. “You wish for me to make love to you? Then I shall.”
Paul pushes the thin straps of your satin dress down your shoulders, kissing along the column of your throat, your collar bones, across your shoulders. You drop your arms so the straps fall the rest of the way down, the dress slipping down your body with them. Leaving you bare before him aside from the thin black material of your panties.
“Absolutely beautiful, angelic.” He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, your jaw, your neck, all the way down until his back knuckles are caressing the tender peaks of your nipples. He slides it across your chest, giving the other the same treatment before taking both of your tits in his hands. He gently squeezes them, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers, eliciting little whimpers from you.
“I heard your mother has been teaching you our ways. How is your training?” Paul raises an eyebrow at you, certainly wondering why you’re asking him about that at a time like this. “I only ask because I was wondering if you might want to practice on me.”
“Do you mean…?” He looks at you with wide eyes and you smirk, biting your lip.
“That’s exactly what I mean. I can feel your apprehension, don’t be afraid, I want this.” You lean into him, smashing his hands that are still on your chest between your bodies as you lean up to you run your nose along his scent gland, darting your tongue out to taste the sweat and spice that coat his skin. He grabs onto your shoulders, pushing you back so he can look in your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt. But as every other time he’s looked in your eyes tonight, he’s seen nothing but honesty there. Nothing but truth.
“Get on the bed on your back. Spread your legs.” Your body immediately reacts, doing exactly as he asks. Paul approaches the foot of the bed, standing between your spread legs. “That’s a good girl.”
His hands grip onto your knees, pushing your legs further apart, leaning down to shove his face between your legs. His nose runs along the soaked material of your panties, deeply inhaling the sugary sweet smell of your slick.
“Alpha, please.”
“You do not have to beg, my moon. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” Paul smirks up at you before lacing his fingers into the band of your panties and ripping them in half. He runs his tongue up your slit, circling it around your sensitive clit. The feeling of his hot wet mouth has you coming undone instantly, your slick gushing all over his chin and down his neck where it drips onto his shirt. He moans at the taste, sweeter than anything that’s ever graced his taste buds. “Yes, that’s my good little omega, give it all to me, let me drink in your sweet nectar.”
He dives back in, shoving his tongue as deep into your pussy as it can go, fucking you with it. His lips come up to wrap around your clit while his fingers circle your dripping entrance. He runs his fingers through your folds before shoving them knuckle deep inside of you.
“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum again, I’m gonna cum.” You move your hips against his face as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, your legs clamp around his head and your entire body shakes as your high washes over you. Paul pushes himself up from the bed, ridding himself of his clothes before climbing back over to you, situating himself on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. His hard cock is resting against your lower stomach, the tip leaking precum onto your skin.
“I want to taste you too.” You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. You didn’t even care that the ache between your legs wouldn’t be satiated until he was inside you, you needed to taste him.
“Next time. I need to be inside you now.” It comes out a soft whisper, his forehead resting against your own. He reaches between your bodies, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. He connects his lips with your own, kissing you passionately as he begins to push inside you. You both moan as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slipping your tongue into his mouth as his thrusts begin to pick up.
“Mmm you feel amazing, my love, my lord, my emperor.” Paul looks into your eyes as he continues to fuck you at a linguid pace, rolling his hips against your own as he pushes himself as deep inside you as possible.
“My moon, my destiny.” He picks up the pace, pushing up on his knees and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your tits jiggle with every thrust, the fucked out love sick gaze that you send his way makes his skin even hotter.
“I want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum. Put a pup in me. So we can fulfill our prophecy.” Paul snakes a hand between the two of you, connecting his thumb with your clit so he can rub circles on it in time with his thrusts.
“Open your mouth.” The sound of him using The Voice makes your walls clench around him, your jaw dropping open at his command. He leans down, letting the spit that had collected in his mouth drip down into your tongue. “Swallow it.”
You swallow with an audible gulp. Your heart warming at the gesture that anywhere else would be considered lewd but here on Arakkis to share one’s sacred spit with another was a grand gesture of love.
“Thank you, my love. You taste better than the finest feast. I cannot wait to know what your cum tastes like.” Paul groans at that, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. His thrusts start to grow sloppy but he refuses to finish before you do.
“Cum for me.” As soon as the words leave his mouth your walls are convulsing around him, sucking him as your slick soaks his cock.
“Mark me, Paul. Sink your teeth into my flesh and bind us together as we are meant to be.” You tug on his arms, pulling his upper half so it’s draped over you, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts become slow and deep again, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you.
“But Stilgar said…” He groans, using every ounce of strength in his body to not just sink his teeth into your soft neck.
“I do not care what Stilgar said. This is bigger than him. Bigger than all of them. Mark me.” His mouth moves before his mind can process what’s happening, his teeth sinking deep into your flesh, breaking the skin. The feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt. Electricity washes through your body, the most world altering orgasm of your life wracks through you, and you feel like your soul leaves you, connecting with Paul’s before returning to your earthly vessel. He pushes his hips flush against yours, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.
“Oh fucking shit.” Paul groans, pulling his mouth from your neck, gliding his tongue over the indents of his teeth. He leans back to look at you, eyes roaming your face. His knot swells inside of you and a look of pain crosses your features before turning into one of ecstasy. Loud moans leave your lips as your final orgasm of the night washes over you. Paul leans down, connecting his lips with yours, kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do. Though it was far from it.
“I hope you are not upset with me, Maud’Dib.” You take his face in your hands, running the top of your nose along his cheek.
“I don’t think I could ever be upset with you, my love. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on when you used The Voice on me…” he chuckles, resting his forehead against your own. “I am so happy I finally found you…”
“You have me now, until the day I take my last breath I will belong to you, Paul Atreides. Together, we will accomplish great things.”
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ghostgirl101 · 1 month
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I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
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You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
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Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
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firelilyfox · 1 month
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Deadly Eyes
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Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort
If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate
Words: 1k
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You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 
Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 
„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 
A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 
You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 
Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 
„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 
„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 
The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 
„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 
A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 
„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 
„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 
„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 
You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 
For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 
Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 
The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 
„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 
„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 
„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 
Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 
„And you did.“ 
He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 
„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 
_____________________________________________
Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3
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yandere-wishes · 1 day
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I need help with this. Is "May thy knife chip and shatter" equal to saying "good luck"? Like if Paul wants to wish Feyd good luck before a gladiator tournament (where Paul isn't the opponent) would he say this?? Or is it only reserved for when opponents face off?
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cassie48 · 2 months
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∙ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙
(Eventual)Dark!Paul Atreides x fem pregnant reader
• Pt 1 •
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
You and Paul grew up together on Caladan. You were born on the same day, on the same hour. Paul’s mother lady Jessica had always seen you as a daughter and for some unknown reason, insisted that you and her son always stay together.
When you and Paul grew to become teenagers, feelings became involved, and a powerful love blossomed. When the two of you heard you had to leave for Arrakis, you were both petrified. But you knew everything would be ok, as long as you stayed together.
When the two of you arrived to the planet, the local fremen called Paul the “Lisan al-Gaib” and you the “malaka”. Neither of you knew what that meant. So, walking hand in hand, you glanced at each other, both your faces full of confusion and curiosity.
When you were told that the names meant 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 and 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯, both of you were confused.
The night before the imperial Sardaukar troops invaded Arrakis, you found out you were pregnant. It was a complete shock and you and Paul were barely 20. You told Paul as soon as you found out. He comforted you, saying the baby was a blessing, and you two would get through it together.
When the troops came in, all hell broke lose. Thankfully you made it out with Paul, and met lady Jessica before running for the hills. Your hand went to your belly, complete fear consuming you. You three managed to get a plane and fly out.
After surviving a storm, and a long, dangerous journey, the three of you ended up in Fremen territory. You met Chani, who was sceptical of your boyfriend, but seemed to like you.
One man was not happy with your arrival and even challenged Jessica. Paul fought for her, killing the man, after a long brutal fight.
As soon as he had done it, he walked straight up to you, he looked full of power and confidence.
“It’s ok my love” he had told you as he hugged you close to him, his hand eventually resting on you belly. Jessica had told you she was pregnant as well, which eased up your nerves, knowing you two would get through it together.
After a good few weeks with the Fremen, Paul learned the ways of the Fremen being taught by stilgar , you tried to do what you could , which was little as you were now coming up to almost 4 months pregnant.
It all changed when Paul rode his first sand worm, you stood with the Fremen watching along with them as you saw Paul do nearly the impossible, smiling at him
All the Fremen beside you stared yelling out 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗹-𝗚𝗮𝗶𝗯, some walking up to you before kneeling, and taking your hand yelling out 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗮, praising you
You were confused and scared, and just wanted your boyfriend to hold you. More and more people came up to you grabbing your hand, until suddenly you began to cry. You don’t really know why, but your emotions had been all over the place with your pregnancy.
As soon as Stilgar saw you crying he yelled out at the Fremen, asking them 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘩? 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘺!
Immediately they stopped, backing away with whispered apologies to you. When you told Paul later he was outraged.
“Do they think they can grab you like that? You are pregnant they could have hurt you or the baby!” He yelled out, pure rage in his voice.
“It’s ok Paul real-“ you started
“No. It’s not, you were crying, Chani told me. This has to stop” is all he said before pulling you into a hug, you resting your head on his shoulder, his head resting on your own.
Jessica had told you she thinks your baby’s is a boy, you believe her, as she is now the reverend mother. She had really changed, it scared you.
The Fremen and Paul continued fighting against the Sardauker troops, most were very successful. Sadly they blew up the temple, where many had been inside and where they prayed and laid their loved ones to rest.
Paul had been called down to speak with the leaders in the south of Arrakis, he took Stilgars place as he had been injured from the attack.
When you two arrived, Paul told you to go to sleep for a while, you were now seven months pregnant and your body was becoming tired more often.
After about two hours Jessica came up, yelling for you, saying Paul was in trouble. You jumped out of bed and waddled down to him as fast as you possibly could.
She told you he had drank worm blood, to gain an understanding of the prophecy and his future. She told you only your years would bring him back to life. Of course, you had already been crying, so it wasn’t so hard.
Paul gasped and sat up, coming back to reality, he glared seeing all the people surrounding them. He turned to look at you, smiling as he did, cupping your cheeks. You leant into his touch, throwing yourself into his embrace, letting many tear’s escape.
Stilgar yelled out “As it was written!” In pure shock.
“Paul why’d you do it!” You yelled, while crying into his shoulder.
“It’s ok. I understand now. This baby, it’s a miracle, 𝗛𝗲 shall rule after me” he said smiling while looking at you adoringly.
“What? I-I don’t understand! Rule?” You said still crying from the events.
“Trust me. You are the Malaka. You, are the most important woman on the planet right now. This pregnancy, it’s in the prophecy, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 were in the prophecy my love” he said properly sitting up.
“W-What?” You whispered still confused.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about any of this, you trust me don’t you” He said leaning in closer to you.
You nodded, leaning your body into his, your crying and worrying making you tired.
“Good.” Is all he said leaning into you and kissing you passionately, forgetting you two had a whole audience.
“Oh em well everybody give Lisan al-Gaib and the Malaka privacy” stilgar ordered as the Fremen left yelling out messiah words in their language.
You and Paul continued making out for around five minutes before he noticed how tired you were.
“Come my love” he said as he picked you up, holding you tightly in his arms. You leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, feeling completely safe in his embrace.
“No one will harm you, my love” he whispered as you drifted off to sleep.
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
There will be a pt2!!
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itsbuckytm · 2 months
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Little Accidents / Paul Atreides
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Summary: Paul's obliviousness was soon shattered when frequent visits to the nursing room revealed the true essence of love at first sight.
Ps: This is a short fluff I had in mind, but I hope you enjoy and also english isn't my first language so bare with minimal errors, (once upload i always make sure to update now my works, if there is any errors) Enjoy! XOXO
As the heir of the Atreides' House, Paul effortlessly following in his father's esteemed footsteps. He possesses an acute sense of ownership, ensuring he's well aware of everything under his purview. Whether it's news of your battle injuries or workplace mishaps, Paul is always the first to know, abandoning any prior engagements to rush to your aid. While you're being tended to, his concern is palpable; his eyes scan for any signs of harm as he utters all while using the voice. ‘Where?’ This gesture of worry has become familiar, a reassurance you've grown accustomed to, especially when your visits to the infirmary often serve as an excuse to steal moments with him. ‘Dropped a weapon on my foot,’ you explain with a hint of ruefulness, ‘guess my impatience got the better of me, inadvertently knocking out one of the armories. Pity.’
Indeed, quite a pity. Paul couldn't help but notice your composure, devoid of any telltale signs of injury. It either seemed that the nurse had efficiently tended to you before his arrival—a stroke of luck, perhaps. However, Paul wasn't fooled; this wasn't the first time you'd urgently summoned him to the infirmary. Today, he harbored suspicions that you might finally reveal the true reason behind your frequent visits. “If you'd prefer I refrain from using the Voice," he remarked, a hint of seriousness in his tone, "you'll need to be more forthcoming than simply labeling it an accident, my dear."
However, you eventually reassured the head nurse, explaining that it was merely a minor issue requiring attention. Your heart fluttered with a mixture of nerves and affection as Paul insisted on tending to your wounds himself, rather than delegating the task to anyone else. As the room cleared, leaving just the two of you alone, Paul attempted to devise a plausible excuse while discreetly observing your work. This added another layer of challenge for him, yet he remained determined to keep a watchful eye on you. “Now tell,” A pregnant pause was felt soon as he sat next to you. “How I am suppose to know, that there is probably more reason than just a visit at the nursery?” 
You find yourself drawn in by his innocence, but observing Paul working alongside his father and their associates, it becomes evident that innocence was not his defining trait anymore. In fact, there's a possibility he understands more than he lets on. Maybe he's even willing to engage in the game you're playing. You nonchalantly dismiss any concerns, offering the excuse that you're just adding a bit of spice to the situation. However, Paul's reaction suggests that perhaps it's not the right moment to discuss such matters, especially anything related to the Spice itself.
Paul tilted his head, almost taking offense at your attempt at humor. Despite his awareness of your desire to spend more time alone with him, he understood that convincing him to stay a little longer each time wasn't as simple as it seemed. Even if his attempts at pampering you, like tending to invisible wounds that morphed into cuddle sessions, were charming, he recognized that your discussions about the 'Spice' were more about politics than relaxation. Poor thing– that was all he knew about out. This realization led to a soft chuckle from you, followed by an apology for bringing up the topic. However, Paul dismissed your apology, urging you not to discuss such matters, especially around him, as he couldn't help but wonder why you frequented the nursing room more often than before. “Now tell me, or I might just become as impatient as you’ll be when demanding kisses..”
His voice trailed off, almost seductive when Paul was right about to expose this little game of yours. Instantly you could feel his lip curve slightly into a smirk as he saw your expression, your eyes winding in shock, trying your very best to obliged. That you were the one who meant to shock Paul out of his work for some time but, perhaps you were indeed right about your wonders. That in fact, Paul knew that the exact reasons why you obliged yourself to the nursing room more often than ever. Only to find out, it was to spend more time with him. But Paul being himself, being the type of guy that he is, did not to confess his wrong at first or to be completely oblivious. After all– he is the duke’s son. 
"So, let me get this straight," Paul Atreides began, his tone tinged with a mixture of disbelief and introspection. "I, Paul Atreides, am so easily ensnared by your little charade? It's rather disheartening, truth be told." There was a hint of a pout on his lips as he contemplated your adeptness at expressing your desires, though he couldn't entirely fault you for it. With the constant demands of dealing with the Harkonnens and managing CHOAM affairs, finding time for you had become more challenging than he and you had anticipated. 
Unlike his parents, whose marriage was purely political, Paul had chosen a different path, one where your presence held a significance beyond mere political alliances. For him, building a future within the confines of the Atreides' House with you by his side was a deeply personal and cherished desire. Material wealth could wait; what mattered most was the connection he shared with you. With a sigh, he reached out to gently caress your cheek, a silent acknowledgment of your correctness all along. Perhaps it was time to prioritize his own happiness, even if it meant putting paperwork aside momentarily. "Maybe you're onto something," he admitted, his voice softening. "Perhaps you’re right, perhaps it's time for me to take a break from the endless bureaucracy and spend some quality time together. After all, even I need to unwind–."
Paul's words carried a weight of remorse rarely heard, especially within the esteemed Atreides family. As he neared the end of his sentence, you leaned in swiftly, feeling the soft brush of his lips against yours in a lingering kiss. The longing shared between you both was palpable, though circumstances often made indulgence impractical, intensifying the desire even more. When Paul finally pulled away, he gently nibbled at your lower lip, a playful chuckle escaping him at the sudden surge of hunger between the two of you. There was an undeniable yearning to touch, caress, and love you. "Perhaps I'll request a day off," he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of promise. “Perhaps you will.” You both end up chuckling as he cups your face, his eyes gazing from your eyes to your lips. Paul confessed once more,
“And perhaps, we don't always have to use the excuse of happy accidents, so I can exile from paperwork every now and then.” 
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shan-yee · 2 months
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𝙼𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗 𝙱𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚗𝚎 2 𝚒𝚗 2023 :
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𝚅𝚜 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚊 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 :
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....𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎...
(Y’all when I tell you i’m going to write for that man…)
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kteezy997 · 2 months
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The Emperor's Wife// Paul Atreides
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Warnings: angst, unrequited love, slow burn kinda
"That princess shall have no more of me than my name. No child of mine nor touch nor softness of glance, nor instant of desire." The promise of Paul Atreides as he ascended your father's throne was held true for some time. But his words began to falter in time, against his will.
He married you, but remained loyal to his concubine, Chani. But he did acknowledge that you had a literary nature, and he entrusted you to sit in on his council meetings as Emperor. The more time you spent around each other, the more you became companions, and the more he relied on your mind to help him keep a balance of things.
You noticed as Paul started to become more relaxed around you. He'd even have a laugh with you now and then. It was clear that he valued your friendship as much as your ability to write and make sense of things.
One day Paul joked that Chani was his wife of passion and you were his intellectual wife. Your feelings had started to form into deep admiration for your husband, so his words were course against your ears. Though you knew that this was the way it had to be, it wasn't any easier to hear him say it.
But there was a look from him, a look where he scanned you, slowly, from head to toe. Your special training had kicked in. You could feel it; it was desire. He thought his momentary glance would go undetected, but that was nary the case.
All the late evenings in the council room, all the discussions you had about history and his interest in your writings, it all bubbled up to his vow being broken. You caught his gaze in a meeting later, and his green eyes could no longer lie to you. He was curious and desirous of you. But he could not do anything about it. He simply could not act on it.
But you, on the other hand, were tired of the intellectual relationship. This feeling was different for you, and you never expected to fall for him. Your body ached, your skin burned for your husband. Even if it was just once, you had to have him.
You hated to admit to yourself the jealousy you felt toward his Fremen woman. You wanted to feel what Chani felt. Just one full moment of Paul's desire. You needed his touch. To exchange passionate breaths with him. To have the weight of the handsome Emperor on top of you. To have his eyes on you, and only you.
..........
You ventured to Paul's sietch, into the private apartment he shared with Chani. The Fremen in the village knew you, so they did not try to stop you, or persuade you to leave. They welcomed you with respect, as you were indeed Muad’Dib’s wife.
The room was quite plain and modest for an Emperor and his woman. The bed, however, looked cozy with glow globes on either side. The scent of cinnamon and coffee hung in the air, laced with the spice melange.
You hoped he'd come soon. You hoped he would be the first one in, and not Chani. You didn't know what to say to her, if that would be the case. She had always been pleasant toward you when you were around her, but you didn’t know if her attitude would remain the same if she knew you wanted to bed her man.
You hoped that he wouldn't be harsh towards you; that he wouldn’t be angry about you invading the space he shared with his concubine. You liked to think that you had broken his walls and exposed the tender side of him. You sat on the bed, waiting.
Finally, you heard footsteps approaching, there was a tired huff from the person outside the door, and you knew the voice instantly. Paul came in, pulling off his still suit the second he entered. He didn't see you at first. You saw his shoulders and chest as he rid himself of the rubbery material. He was strong, with hard muscles and pale skin with minor scars here and there.
You could smell the dirt and sweat that he carried. It did not deter you in the slightest, but made you more eager.
He could sense you there. You knew he could.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, without even turning to face you.
You took a shaky breath, then answered, "I wanted to see you, Paul."
He finished freeing his arms from the constrictive suit, turning to look at you sitting on his bed. "And why?"
You were excited just seeing his shoulders, but now you saw his naked chest, his hard pectoral muscles and small nipples. You nearly shuddered with need. "I-uhm," I want you. "I wanted to make sure that you saw how bright and beautiful the two moons look this evening. And maybe you'd like to see my latest Muad'Dib chronicle?"
Paul nodded, "Hm." He stepped over to the window, looking up at the moons, "They are quite beautiful tonight."
You rose from the bed, joining him by the window. You could really feel his presence now, as you usually didn't get quite this close to him. His scent was stronger, too. "I brought my latest writings. If you want to read."
"Sure. You may leave them here."
He was so polite, but never overly kind. He couldn't disrespect Chani. But you so wanted things to change between you and your husband.
"Paul, I really came here to talk to you about something."
He took his eyes off the night sky outside his window and looked into your eyes. "Go on."
Your heart started thumping in your chest, you cleared your throat. "Well, I do not wish to overstep, but I think you and I have both come to enjoy our time together. I think it is safe to say that we are good friends now." You got stuck for second as you got a close look of the sweat glistening on his skin in the glowing light of the dark room.
Paul softly smiled, giving you a nod to keep going.
"But, I need you to know that no matter how amazing the moons might be on a starry night, it is no match for the way I feel when I look at you."
His expression fell, and he shook his head, "Y/n, please. I am very flattered. I appreciate you, and I care for you."
You butted in, "I can sense that you desire me, Paul. You've already broken your oath. I know that you feel distant towards your concubine, and I wonder if it has anything to do with how you feel about me."
He chuckled, walking away from you, "I thought you said you didn't wish to overstep?"
"I cannot help it. I'm sorry. But you know my training." You genuinely didn't want to disrupt anything between him and Chani.
He ran his hand over his face, pushing away the exhaustion of the day, trying to make sense of his own feelings as well. "Y/n, you aren't wrong. Chani knows that my sentiments for you have shifted."
So he admits it!
"You haven't bedded her for weeks now, have you?" you prodded, carefully.
"No," he stepped closer to you, towering over you by several inches, "not that it is any of your business."
"I don't want to make you angry, Paul. But I have seen the way you look at me, the way you brush passed me during council. You've preferred spending more and more time with me lately." You took a step forward this time, just a foot's length away from him.
Paul let his guard down, knowing that you were right about everything. His face softened, and he brought his hand up to caress your face. His hand had been roughed up by the wind and sand if the desert, but you could still see yourself melting against it as he touched you.
Paul went on to say, "You should know by now how I feel for you. But it cannot be. I made a promise. I don't ever want to be cruel to you, my y/n." he licked his dry lips, and you noticed just how blue his eyes were as a result of spice addiction. "I did not marry you for things such as love or children, you know that."
"Yes, I know." you sighed, having heard that piece of information a hundred times during your marriage. "My husband, you are a loyal man. I admired you for that, but I don't wish for anything more than the same love that you have for your concubine. You can share that tenderness with me."
He said nothing, but kept his hand on your cheek, gazing at you so fondly.
You could sense him breaking for you. "Paul," you leaned closer, placing your hand on his exposed chest, "I have seen the way your eyes narrow at me when I bow before you as my Emperor."
Then, his hand wound tightly into your hair, and his lips were being smashed against yours. He pulled you against him, he moaned into your kiss. His hands were on your body, sliding up the curves of your hips.
Your body was electrified, you ran your hands through his hair, not caring how sweaty he was. The hunger was equal on both sides.
Paul pulled away suddenly, sighing as he turned away from you.
He was still wrestling in his mind, you knew it. "I need you." you said, melancholy taking over your tone as you started to believe he was going to refuse you completely, "I need my husband. I want to made love to by Muad'Dib." You went over to him, looking at his back you noticed a scar, larger than the others on his body. You wondered if the mark was result of a fall on a sand dune or maybe the consequence of riding the great sandworm. You reached out, cautiously running your finger along the scar.
He shivered at your touch, but he didn't shy away.
You decided that maybe this plan was fruitless, that he wouldn't, and never could love you the proper way in which a man loved his wife. "Paul, if you do not love me, I will leave now. You'll never see me come back to this place. I will accept being wrong. Things will go back as they were."
"No, please, don't go." he faced you again. He relaxed more, his body language and the look in his eyes was more at ease.
"Then stop me, my dear husband."
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar
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