#stilgar fluff

[periprose]

Priestess | Sayyadina

Faith is falling in Sietch Tabr. Reverend Mother Ramallo has a solution– marrying Naib Stilgar to one of the Sayyadina, in order to greater connect the people and the spiritual way, and enable Lisan Al Gaib’s journey to freedom, when he appears. This is your story as the chosen priestess.

Genre: arranged marriage to lovers, fluff, smut, (oral, piv, 18+) angst, lots of sci-fi Dune book references

Word count: 9.8k

Fremen Dictionary:

Sayyadina: Lower ranking priestess(es) who have not yet drank the Water of Life

Naib: Leader of a Sietch

Sietch: Cave/place of assembly by the Fremen

Sahar: Reader’s Sietch Name

Biet: Reader’s Fremen Name

Stilgar climbs up the rocky terrain, his fingers adeptly finding well-known grooves in the stone as he lifts himself to the absolute top of the cliff.

He needs some time to think over his conversation with Ramallo, Sietch Tabr’s Reverend Mother, before he heads back to the Sietch. Stilgar is not one to stay away from his people, his community— but for once in his life, it’s too close for comfort.

As Naib, there will be too many people coming to him at once, asking for his advice and input on things he is normally capable of answering. Friends and family will approach him closely, knowing too much about him to tell there’s something on his mind, and expecting him to be transparent as he typically is.

For this moment, though, he needs his head to be clear. He cannot be as jovial as he might’ve been in the past.

What Ramallo offered him is a subject matter he does not take lightly. 

The sun is setting as Stilgar remembers their conversation from the previous hour.

/

“As Sayyadina, as Reverend Mother, my honest recommendation is that the Northern Fremen need to replenish their numbers.” Ramallo speaks in hushed tones of Chakobsa, the native Fremen language.

Stilgar is slightly confused. The concept of child bearing is not one that he has to be concerned with, as he, despite his older age, has not been married yet.

Something he admonishes himself for.

“There are many of us, but we could always expand. I have already suggested to the South that they could send some of their people here, if they would like to be.” Stilgar frowns. “So many Fremen in the south, densely packed, is an easy way to be attacked. We could spread out more.”

“Save your war-speak for later, Stilgar.” Ramallo tuts, and then sighs a long, languid sigh that has Stilgar feeling much younger than he really is. ���I don’t mean simply bringing people here.”

He’s never sure what the Reverend Mother wants, but he always gives her his full attention. Something about staying in his faith for so long has kept him here, grounded, seated in front of Ramallo, ready to do what needs to be done. Not just for the Mahdi, as he is often teased about, but so he doesn’t lose himself.   

“Please. Tell me.” He asks, kneeling his head down in a solemn movement, and Ramallo knows he’s ready for this.

“The youth of Sietch Tabr don’t believe in our faith anymore, do they?” Ramallo wraps a gnarled finger around her wrist, feeling a minor form of trepidation she is sure real Bene Gesserit have never felt. “They laugh when we speak of Lisan al Gaib.” 

“They have not read the prophecy.” Stilgar swallows, unsure if he can really speak on this, when he regards himself as a humble follower. “They laugh because they do not believe in the Mahdi to free us.”

Stilgar thinks of his niece, Chani, who suggests that a Fremen could be the Mahdi. He knows this can’t be true, because he believes his people are fed-up— it should have happened by now if one of them was truly possessed with that capability.

“Sietch Tabr is too worldly now. I worry that if we lose our faith, we cannot usher in Lisan al Gaib as he should be, and our promise to freedom.” Ramallo fixes her cold, foggy pupils on Stilgar, the cloudy whites making the typical Fremen-blue appear more teal. He shivers at the idea. 

“I want you, as Naib, our political leader, to take one of the Sayyadina as your wife. One of the lower priestesses.” 

Stilgar nearly protests instantly, feeling embarrassed to even think of desecrating a Sayyadina like this, but the old Reverend Mother knows what he thinks of this. 

“It would be a marriage between our religion and our people, a symbolic union. I believe our spirituality will be renewed.” Ramallo taps his hand. “I’m an old woman now. I cannot make as much as a difference as my younger sisters— and you and I both know it is written that we must keep bearing children.” 

Stilgar swallows. He only vaguely knows of the Bene Gesserit, but he can guess Ramallo was deeply inspired by their way, marrying into families, keeping a physical bloodline going. The only thing that troubles him, is that he’s unsure of what this has to do with having children with a Sayyadina in particular. 

“If you have children, especially with a Sayyadina, they are more likely to be faithful. Perhaps we cannot convert the others,” Ramallo grits her teeth. “But I believe we can start anew.”

/

Stilgar knows he cannot force himself on any of the Sayyadina. It’s bad enough that they cannot say no to the Reverend Mother’s command, especially with that shocking, unnerving Voice she uses, so he would much rather let one of them pick him. Yes, that’s what he’ll do— walk into the temple, and let them approach him.

He just hopes he’s not too old, too ugly, too entwined with his role as Naib. He wonders if that’s why women haven’t necessarily been interested in him— what with his constant vigilance to keep Sietch Tabr safe and with a good allocation of resources, which makes him rather unapproachable, not as dashing as a typical Feydakin.

He knows how Lady Jessica looked at him with reproach when he offered himself to her, to protect her and her son, Paul. Yes, even the name Paul suggests something more to him— he still thinks he could be Lisan al Gaib. But either way, Lady Jessica did not want to be connected to him like that— so Stilgar feels that he must admire how marriage exists in that intrinsic bond between two people, from afar.

On the other hand, he feels the slightest tinge of hope when he remembers that a Sayyadina would surely be impressed with his devotion. In fact, Stilgar feels a slight grin on his face, as he climbs down from his cliff, thinking of a veiled Fremen priestess, eyes of Ibad even bluer than his own, marking her commitment to the faith. Holy, but his, to see like no one else would, and to be devoutly loyal to.

Almost like a personal representation, an extension of their faith together. And suddenly Stilgar feels understanding to what the Reverend Mother said, as he walks through the night, back to his quarters, that there would be power in this.

/

You’re chewing on your bottom lip, knowing that it’s a needless thing to do— a waste of water, now, that a drop of blood has been drawn from where you have accidentally split your lip— and you can’t help yourself.

Reverend Mother Ramallo grasped you and your sisters’ hands during prayer this morning, and told you that Stilgar would choose one of you as his wife.

It’s a bit surprising. As a Sayyadina directly under a Reverend Mother, you simply expected to be on your own, until she died and one of you would have to take her place. Other Sayyadina marry, yes— but you’ve always studied under Ramallo and assumed that you would not have to.

You know the Bene Gesserit— as far away as they are to you— form alliances like this with men, and it’s an honourable thing, typically, to produce a child from a union and continue on a legacy of people. It’s with that line of thinking that you asked Ramallo if this is what you were meant to follow.

“Sahar.” Ramallo used your Sietch name, the one that is only known among your sisters for the most part, as most Sayyadina consider their Sietch name to be their sacred name. “Smarter than I sometimes give you credit for. Yes, like our fellow priestesses, we too can create children for the sacred purpose of replacement.”

You smiled, but Ramallo had a slightly weary look in her eyes.

“I don’t want you girls to forget the sacred duty. Continue the faith. Do not let others forget our long wait for the Lisan al Gaib. Pass this onto your children, if you have them.”

You nodded, and whispered a silent prayer that hopefully soon he would be found, and that in itself would be enough to push people.

/   

So now you wait. You know Stilgar— you’ve conversed with him before, in lunch circles, at the deathstill. He was kind enough— he always bowed when he greeted you, and you liked that, liked that he acknowledged your importance in your role here, however small it may be to you. And he always had a careful, leaning inwards glance, where he would be intently listening to whatever you had to say, even if you simply wished him well and hoped that the Maker would bless him and his passage.

It also significantly helped that he was so handsome to look at, too. You’ve heard women murmur about their surprise on his lack of a wife, and how they’d be grateful to take him, if they got the chance. You don’t disagree– you know you’ve spent many a moment glancing too much at him.

But Stilgar seems intensely busy, and you do not be the one to pull him away from his duties. You have had the privilege of being unaware of fighting, of battles and duels, and now to be potentially married to him, it feels like you’ll simply not fit into his life.

And, on the other hand, as you glumly sit on your bedding, rolling a pebble on the stone floor, you think about how you’ve had little-to-no experience with men.

It’s not that it wasn’t allowed, you’ve always been preoccupied with your faith. With the Reverend Mother.

You know how Fremen men, especially warrior men like Stilgar would be. They have appetites— your fellow Sayyadina sister Nezua tells you about all her crazy endeavours, while you listen somewhat enviously. There’s a reason why Fremen men take so many wives.

Your stomach lurches a little at that. Although multiple wives are common, to continue to reproduce as efficiently as possible, you dislike the notion for some reason— but you feel selfish and wonder if it is because, as a priestess, you’ve had special treatment until now.

Nezua walks into your quarters, and taps your shoulder. 

“Yes?”

“He’s outside.” She takes your hand. “Don’t worry, Sahar. I am sure he will not pick one of us— he will probably pick Ranira. She barely wants to be Sayyadina.”

“But isn’t that against the point?” You squeeze your hands together. “For a union between faith and people—” 

“C’mon, Sahar. Don’t tell me you really believe that.” She rolls her eyes. “Whoever ends up being Stilgar’s wife will probably be in his house most of the time, ‘praying’, but really just dutifully waiting for him.” 

“I suppose…” You don’t want to tell Nezua that she’s wrong. That Stilgar is more devout than she thinks, that he’s not a cheat looking for a free wife to use while pretending to care about the faith. 

Stilgar has always come to the temple to pray, even when it is not necessary for a man of his standing to do so— as he often speaks of needing to continue his worship towards the Maker, the One God, and Ramallo is always pleased to let him in. She wouldn’t do that if he had some sort of ulterior motive, as other less honourable men have in the past.

It’s with a jolt that you realize you already care for him on some level. At the very least, you think highly of him.

Nezua pulls you up off your bedding, and you adjust your veil before going off into the main prayer hall with her.

Upon seeing the arrival of all six Sayyadina sisters— the current number of high priestesses directly under Ramallo— Stilgar pushes himself into a deep, reverent bow, and as he arises again, his gaze seems to linger on you before coming across your sisters.

You feel both excited to potentially be picked, and terrified to leave the temple where you have lived your whole life.

/

Stilgar can’t help but have his eyes drawn towards to you. Not just because you’re beautiful— you are, though, with the eyes of Ibad, deep blue pupils, a wise, judicial expression upon your face— and he wonders why.

Not out of disrespect, but Stilgar often sees the Sayyadina as being sort of withdrawn, within themselves, perhaps solemn in the religious vows they have taken. Even now, your sisters don’t meet his glance as often as you do.

Stilgar thinks you may be defiant. Maybe a troublemaker of sorts. His heart has a sudden thrill at the idea, but his mind knows this isn’t what’s necessary for this arrangement.

“Hello, sisters.” He smiles in a firm, thin line, meant to be placating to those around him. “I believe you know why I’m here. I hope this will not be an uncomfortable process for us all.”

He takes another look at you. No, you’re simply… you’re taking him in. And Stilgar decides that’s overall better than being defiant. Closer to the values of a leader, not even in just a spiritual way as the Reverend Mother had suggested to him. 

You’re gauging his reactions, trying to read if he’s more of a rascal than he lets on— but he meets your previous idea of him, a reverent, kind man trying not to do harm, and your mouth settles into a assured, small smile.

Stilgar feels comforted, pleased even by your expression, and he knows he’s going to pick you.

”Sayyadina—” He points to you so there’s no confusion, and your sisters appear as neutral as they can, while you read micro-expressions of either relief or disappointment. “I would like to speak to you on this matter.”

You shuffle in silence as you leave with him to a different, quieter corridor, and as you turn and fix your veil, Nezua flashes a grin at you.

So your feelings were that obvious, you think.

/

Stilgar is a great deal taller than you. You have to peer upwards to really look at him, and you think he likes that— there’s a slight twinge in his eyes that makes you feel easily drawn to him.

“Why me, Naib?” You ask, and Stilgar stares at you for a moment longer, before tearing his eyes away to stare at the architecture of the temple. 

“You have a knowing look in your eyes, Sayyadina.” He responds in turn to your use of Naib— a term denoting him as Leader of the Sietch. You use it so not to be overly familiar with him, but you understand you both respect each other.

“So you picked the most shrewd of us, is that it?” You wrinkle your nose in a slight laugh, but then actually grin as Stilgar laughs.

“One could call it shrewdness. I simply see that you are not afraid, you look for what you know you must find. Only great leaders make the approach.” He explains this so clearly, you were not even entirely aware that you were doing such a thing. 

“It only makes sense to do so, Naib. I could not just stand there and allow you to do all the decision making.” You admit with tact, so not to drive him away.

He nods. “That is why you will be a great one.”

Stilgar seems comfortable with you already, and yet his expression takes a pained look for a moment. 

“It's for that reason I do not want to force you into this… uh, arrangement.” He admits, and you are taken aback for just a moment, just a slight gasp.

“What makes you think I don’t want to be your wife?” You speak too soon, maybe too boldly but Stilgar likes that. Despite not even being betrothed yet, you are so forward with him, so ready to be claimed by him.

And he's just as willing a participant to be claimed by you, so he smiles, watching you turn a little flustered, but you let your feelings for him stay apparent for a moment.

It's not like there's room for privacy in a marriage, you think.

An arranged marriage, you admonish yourself. He’s here only in the most professional of terms. Don’t complicate this with your idiotic feelings, you still have a job to do.

“I just meant that– it would be an honour to be associated with you, Naib.” You keep your head tilted downwards, trying your best to be the reverent Sayyadina you’re known as.

“Of course.” He swallows, unsure if you’ve suddenly become shy, or that you’ve decided to be more cunning– something he admires anyways. He thinks not many women would actually be attracted to him, what of the mug he calls a face, and so he decides to just be glad that you’re willing to be with him.

“Okay, Sayyadina. If you’ll have me as your husband, then,” He grasps your hands in both of his, and he has the kindest look in his eyes, and you look back up at him, feelings simmering on the inside as you maintain a peaceful facade. “We will have our engagement arranged soon.”

Then, ever so gently, he pushes back a part of your veil, wanting to see your face better.

/

You visit him more often after that. Usually in the hall, where there are other people, and you do this so people don’t think you’re too in love with him already– visiting him secretly would only prove that, suggest some sort of affair of a human connotation.

By being around the others, people feel that things are coming into place– religion and leaders are creating a strong, united front that will lead the Fremen to peace. More believers for the Lisan Al Gaib. And you are glad to already be pushing people along the path that Ramallo set out for you.

Stilgar has a stronger look at you, now. Not just the polite glances of before. With every conversation, he takes you in, drawing more and more conclusions. And with every moment, he learns more about you, and he likes what he learns, too.

He sees that you like your food spicy, as does he. And you especially enjoy tabara– the soft sweet cake made of tabaroot, honey, and spice, rich and sweet in flavour, adorned with fruit. It’s a rarity in Arrakis, since a few of the fruit come from offworld traders– so he gives you his portion and you two argue over this, before Stilgar eventually puts his foot down as Naib.

“You should accept. Extra portions go towards those who need it, not me.” Stilgar says, ever the humble one as you’ve come to know him.

“Except this isn’t an extra portion, is it? Sayyadina aren’t supposed to indulge so much, leaders like you may deserve it as you do such hard work.” You taunt him, knowing that you’re both so similar– you could argue forever with Stilgar because you’re equally as willing to sacrifice things for each other.

Great leaders, indeed.

“Sayyadina, don’t make me remind you how important your creed is.” He tuts, and you find yourself simmering with attraction to him– you are beginning to look forward to these conversations more and more everyday. “Your work is just as important– don’t do a disservice to your life just for me, okay?”

The people around you shift in their spots on the floor, to listen more closely, and you recognize that although you and Stilgar grow closer– the intended effect is taking place. People are supportive either way.

Maybe you don’t have to be distant, overly religious, to win support. Maybe, like what Ramallo said, they need to see how spirituality can touch people, and how you’re just a person as well.

He places the piece of cake in your bowl again. “Accept it as a gift, Sayyadina.”

You smile up at him, squeeze his hand without thinking. “Okay, Naib. Thank you.”

/

Stilgar cannot stop thinking of you, even when he is training Usul to fight in the Fremen way.

He remembers your last meeting, a few weeks after your initial one– and then how you said in two days time, after your faithful prayer that the Shai-Hulud would allow your union to be peaceful, you could begin the engagement ceremony. And Stilgar focused on how serious you were– how holy this approach was, how you seemed to glow from within, with some otherworldly energy, and even now he could tell he was enamoured with you. With that strong gaze, eyebrows tensed and purposeful in their thought.

Usul– Paul, at this moment, with his lack of focus– cannot stop staring at Chani while she practices sparring with her friend.

“Usul. Usul.” Stilgar shakes his shoulder, and Paul finally tears his gaze away. “You’re too distracted, my friend.”

“I’m sorry, Stilgar.” Ever the charming, young lad, Paul smiles placatingly towards Stilgar, and even he is too struck by his charisma to avoid it. “I’m here. I’m ready.”

“Please, tell me what bothers you.” Stilgar knows, already, as Paul stares down at his hands, that the boy has eyes for his overly tenacious niece. “Is it a matter of the heart?”

“Yes.” Paul exhales. “It’s not important right now. How did you know?”

Stilgar smiles reproachfully. “I… I suppose I should tell you honestly, before the others get to know.”

It strikes Paul that the Fremen trust him so readily– even Chani, with her misgivings about the prophecy, seems to be swayed towards him, and he does not know if he enjoys the attention, the privilege this grants him. Again, he is struck with that terrible purpose– that he will use these people for his own benefit.

Stilgar interrupts his line of thought. “Soon, I am to be married to one of the priestesses.”

Paul grins. “Ah, Stilgar, you rogue. You’re distracted, too.”

“Yes.” Stilgar admits, and he thinks of you with your deep blue eyes, your careful-yet-understanding glance, and he longs to see you again. To get to know you better. Yes, Stilgar may not truly know you, but he feels he has been on your side this whole time. Every glance at the temple, every cursory conversation at the deathstill, it has all been building up to something– perhaps not what he had imagined it to be, but he would never consider himself unlucky for this, or that Ramallo could ever be wrong about her plans.

As Naib, though, he still has his duties, and he tuts and tells Paul to get back on it. And Paul, strong young man wanting to prove himself, uses his Bene Gesserit training to imbue a level of focus that no woman could possibly break.

/

The engagement ceremony day is finally here.

You're excited, yet nervous to be known as Stilgar's wife. It feels more real with every approaching moment– it’s not just a silly, girlish fantasy, it’s something that everyone will see and know as a tangible union.

You haven't got any time to see him– Stilgar has been away with other Feydakin, no doubt unleashing hell on Harkonnen troops– and so you wait for his return.

The first of many waiting periods, you know that. You always knew this was going to be more of a political marriage– more in meaning for Sietch Tabr than really having to be around each other.

But you miss him, anyways. You like him, and despite your attempts to focus on praying to the Maker that he will be okay, you search for him on the sandy horizon every minute of this auspicious morning, the sun blearing into your eyes.

“You know he hasn’t come this far without his own talent.” Nezua reminds you, as she watches you peer up, blinking in the sunlight. “He’s not Naib for no reason, Sahar.”

All priestesses– both low and high– and other religious Fremen crowd around the outskirts of Sietch Tabr, hidden under cliffs in order to stay in the shade. Yet you reach outwards to look at the sun, risking your sweat even as you know you’re supposed to reserve it.

Lady Jessica, part of the sacred mother-and-son duo from the outer world, watches you with a gaze you cannot place. You know it is not simple curiosity– there is something new and malicious in her stare that has only heightened after Stilgar had asked to be betrothed to you.

A sudden gust of wind blows sand around you two, and Nezua tightens her veil, firmly jutting her jaw in a way that tells you she must be right, that you worry about nothing. 

Ten minutes later, after praying and hoping, Stilgar returns over the sunrise, victorious in battle, and you feel he looks exhausted– yet his face breaks into a smile when he sees you.

He is greeted by many Fremen, fellow family members, but Stilgar pushes them aside, making his way directly towards you.

And you let yourself be pulled upwards by him, as he grasps your hands.

There’s something sweet and endearing here– almost innocent in how he looks at you, as if he’s been waiting to see you again just as long as you have. But you quickly remind yourself that this moment is not just yours– it would be considered somewhat heartless by other Fremen if Stilgar did not appear to like you, and by extension, the whole marriage’s point would fail.

“Sayyadina–” He holds up the Water Rings, the metallic counters representing the volume of water a Fremen could release into the deathstill. Here, they mean that you will be tied to Stilgar, as you are now betrothed to him. “I ask you to be married to me, by nightfall.”

“So soon?” You ask, wondering why he would want to do it so early.

“It cannot wait much longer. Reverend Mother Ramallo is not well.” He tells you, and your heart sinks, wondering why your dear reverend mother has not told you about this.

You’ve seen the signs– she struggles with fine motor skills and often her cataracts make it difficult to see anything– but you are still surprised.

“Okay.” You swallow, and then smile up at him, and he squeezes your cheek in a fond gesture that makes you feel heat rise there.   

“We will be wed tonight.” He calls out in Chakobsa, and the Fremen around you rally with glee, and you feel that whatever this is, even if Ramallo does not live to watch it play out– it’s working.

/

The unmarried women of the tribe fix your hair with the rings Stilgar presented to you, and you feel ever the part of the blushing bride. You know it’s not wrong to genuinely have feelings in this arrangement– you just hope Stilgar feels the same way.

Chani grins at you. You know her well– you’re around the same age, you’ve grown up somewhat together– and you wonder if she feels odd about her uncle marrying you.

“No, if it means I can call you Auntie, I’m happy.” She jokes, and you shove her as she laughs.

Chani rarely laughs like this as of late. She’s always so hard on herself– she thinks she has to be because of how indoctrinated so many Fremen are to the faith. And despite your life as a Sayyadina, Chani has never let your conflicting beliefs stop her love for you.

You only wish she’d be more careful as a warrior. As a freedom fighter, Chani sometimes lacks restraint– so you’re grateful to see her happy.

“Well, maybe some day you’ll be married, too.” You squeeze her hand. “To a great warrior.”

“I don’t know, Biet.” Chani calls you your Fremen name, not your Sietch one, which will be used tonight at the wedding. “Let us focus on you for now.”

“I just… I don’t know if he feels the way I do.” You suddenly admit, and the fear that you’re still going to be lonely crops up. 

Chani shakes her head, that hard, tough scowl on her face back again. “If there’s one thing I know about my uncle, it’s that he’s not an idiot.” 

She presses her cheek to yours. “Don’t you understand how important you are, Biet? How special you are, not just to me and everyone here, but to him especially. Stilgar has not stopped speaking of you for the last couple of weeks.”

You smile softly at that, thinking of how ardently Stilgar looks at you now, how you’ve gotten to know each other over the last few weeks of basic conversation. More close than ever, and yet just far enough that you keep wondering. Is it admiration, gratitude that you’re willing to serve a greater purpose, or something more? You know it’s selfish, but you want him to like you. To love you. 

“Everybody knows, even Muad’Dib.”

At the mention of Muad’Dib, you can’t ignore the slight tension in your spine. Both you and Stilgar have discussed your belief in his abilities, his potential to be the one– but you know that Chani does not share that.

Still, you hear a slight shift in Chani’s tone as she says his name, and you give her a glance.

“You like him, I think.” You tease, and she tells you to shut up in Chakobsa.

You wonder if Muad’Dib was the one who shared this information to his mother, which would make her dislike of you understandable. You get the sense she’s power-hungry, terrifying– she would’ve been a greater candidate for this marriage, an otherworldly mother that fits the prophecy, representing not just the union of politics and religion, but with the power of the Bene Gesserit– and you find that you resist her, anyways. Resist the idea that everything must be for this one purpose.

You want to keep Stilgar to yourself, and it almost frightens you that you might be going against something that you’ve been taught to believe from a young age.

You’re no Chani.

/

The dark of the night spreads across Arrakis.

Stilgar begins the trek up the dune, where you wait, bathed in the moonlight– you’re wearing a different outfit, a dress with intricate beading marking your place as a bride, and instead of a veil, you are wearing a much thinner, transparent shawl that allows Stilgar to make out your silhouette. Your hair is interwoven with his Water Rings.

Stilgar has always known you are beautiful, but especially now of all times, with your blue eyes reflecting him in the silver moonlight as he meets you at the top of the hill– and it’s not a distraction, because he’s meant to be here with you.

He likes you a lot– there’s a taut feeling in his throat, as he realizes he’s watched countless friends and family members get married, but never thought of himself as one of them– and in the past, Stilgar had always felt there was something wrong with him for not marrying sooner. But now, he’s so thankful he waited, because it’s you. His holy, veiled priestess.

You share his faith, after all– but over the last few weeks he’s seen that you share his judgement, too. He only hopes that his feelings will be returned some day and that he won’t scare you off– Stilgar knows he can sometimes be too much.

Reverend Mother Ramallo approaches you two from the other side of the dune. She speaks in Ancient Chakobsa– old marriage passages from the faith, hymns that are sacred in their meaning– and the unmarried women below, begin their chanting and agreement with the hymns. They dance.

Then, Ramallo asks Stilgar in Chakobsa, if he is willing to take care of you, to entirely claim you in every way as the Fremen faith dictates– to not leave you behind. You know she cares for you so deeply, as she’s watched you grow up from a young girl, and you hear a slight twitch in her voice, giving her away as someone who will miss you.

Stilgar responds without hesitation that yes, he will always be there for you. And you believe him. You don’t hear a hint of irony or lying in his tone.

Maybe this isn’t just a marriage of political nature.

Ramallo yells in Chakobsa, using the Voice: “It is finished!”

/

Celebrations are loud, jovial, necessary after the Fremen endured hardship from the Harkonnen. People are dancing, eating, congratulating you.

You’re happy to receive their blessings, and give them back if they wish to hear it from you. You’re still a Sayyadina, and today of all days, you bring especially good luck to them.

Paul Atreides walks forward after Nezua dips– she’s kissed you on your cheek and solemnly stated she’ll miss you at the temple bedrooms– and you’re intrigued, as you’ve never spoken to him before.

“Muad’dib!” Stilgar is next to you, and he shakes his hands, clapping his shoulder, and Paul hugs him.

“Stilgar, Biet–” Paul’s eyes cross towards you, and you don’t sense the same plotting look his mother has. “Congratulations. It’s so interesting to witness a Fremen marriage. I feel like I’ve learned so much just watching. I did not know Sayyadina could use the Voice, as well. Impressive.”

You think he’s rather compassionate, but there’s no telling if it’s an act. You ignore that– you’re meant to be happy now.

“Thank you.” You gently squeeze his hand. “I don’t use it often– I believe it should necessitate a purpose.”

“As do I.” Paul agrees, and you are blown away by how casually he reveals that he can use it. Another sign, perhaps, that he is who you and Stilgar think he is.

“In coming times, maybe you too will marry in our way.” You make as an offhand comment, so not to overtly reveal your surprise.

Paul is mildly surprised by this, but he doesn’t look displeased with that. “Maybe. I think many women here are quite beautiful, they could probably pick a noble Feydakin than someone like me.”

“In time, Muad’dib, you may be a Feydakin too. You have the strength to be one.” Stilgar corrects him, and you like that your husband is so forthcoming, a true mentor that supports everyone.

“Besides, you’ll need to be one if you want to impress Chani.” You input, and Stilgar looks a little taken aback by this development, while Paul looks more interested.

“Really? You think Chani and I…” Paul swallows down whatever he’s going to say, looking suddenly a bit darker and worried. “I would be lucky if she considered me.”

Paul bids you two goodbye, while Stilgar laughs. “A humble one, isn’t he?”

“Better that than overly boastful.” You hum. “Either way, I hope he is not perpetuating a false image.”

Stilgar agrees. 

As the party dies down, he takes your hand, and together, you walk back to Stilgar’s quarters.

/

He’s rather quiet as he sits on his bedding, cracking his knuckles.

Stilgar is not afraid of you, exactly– he’s afraid of what your relationship should or should not be. He does not know the boundaries in which you two operate, and he’s afraid once he opens that conversation up, of your potential rejection. 

Other men would tell him that as your wife, there should be no confusion– that he should be able to bridge the gap, and you would accept it, no questions asked.

But Stilgar had not come this far by simply guessing at things. He knows as Naib, the general context you two have– and he needs to know if you feel the same way, if you don’t just want this marriage to be symbolic in nature.

“Sayyadina,” He calls you, and you sit next to him on his bedding, staying a short distance away, just for respect.

You laugh at that internally. You’re his wife, and you still call on some level of respect. Maybe because you’re afraid of acting on these feelings you have– a hunger for closeness– and you would rather use the excuse of respect instead of pushing him towards you.

Stilgar says Sayyadina with fondness in his tone, though. A formal, spiritual term has never sounded more husky, more inappropriately close than ever– you let yourself hope.

“I’ll ask you this once, and make your answer clear, so I do not bother you otherwise.” Stilgar pauses, wanting to be sensitive about this subject. He doesn’t know exactly what you’re comfortable with. “I want to know if you want to be more than wife in name, or if your heart is drawn to being within your faith.”

“Who says I can’t be both, Stilgar?” You bite your lip, and Stilgar’s face stiffens. “There’s nothing in our faith that says a priestess can’t have both.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pauses, grappling with what to say.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you.” He says, and you laugh, for real this time, a louder laugh than he’s heard before, and he grins, liking the twinkling sound of it, but then frowns. “I’m being serious. You should not have to lie with me just for everyone else’s benefit. The marriage has brought people to greater spirits, already.”

“What if it’s for my benefit?” You speak in a hushed tone, but Stilgar listens to every word, inching closer to you. “What if I feel more spiritual when I’m next to you? I feel the Maker’s way flow through me whenever we speak, I feel like I can understand and interpret so much more because I know we are supposed to be with each other, not just metaphorically, but in all ways.”

Stilgar is taken aback by your boldness, and so are you to some degree, but you continue. “I’ve been ignoring this the last few weeks, but I think that’s what love is. What is faith without love? I think I love you, because you make me understand what I’ve been missing…” You smile up at him. “You’re my greater context, Stilgar.”

Ah, He thinks. This woman is too sweet to me. She understands.

“Sayyadina…” He sighs, a deep shuddering sigh revealing so much emotion; relief, really. You’ve never seen Stilgar like this, but it gives you a sense of how much he represses. “You feel like the missing piece I’ve been waiting for. You… you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for a woman that understands me.”

“I never thought I could have the chance to love anyone,” He admits with some reservation. “My appearance tends to ward women away.”

“But you’re beautiful.” You whisper, smiling up at him, and Stilgar feels your hands trace around his face, and he closes his eyes, listening to the sweetness of your voice. “You’re only intimidating because of who you are, Stilgar, but I promise, you’re beautiful. I’m not the only woman who thinks that.”

Before he can respond in turn, that you’re more beautiful than him, the stubbornness that you two share– you let that unspoken urge inside you, the one you’ve never acted on before, overtake you. And you pull his face downwards in a searing kiss, one where he can still taste the spice on your lips after what you ingested at your wedding dinner.

He honestly has not touched a woman in years– not out of some purposeful celibacy, but more because he has been so focused on maintaining Sietch Tabr. And whatever memories he has of that time, right now is easily trumping them.

You part your lips as Stilgar does, kissing him with abandon, again and again as your lips move with his, and he squeezes your waist before pulling you onto his lap.

He groans. There’s a hard bulge in his pants that you’re sitting squarely upon, you know what that is– you’re not entirely uncultured about this.

You experimentally roll your hips over his crotch, finding a sudden pleasure in your lower half as you do so, and he stutters, suddenly, pulling your face away from his, breaking the kiss.

“Sayyadina– wait, slow down.” He holds your wrists in his hands firmly, the heat of the moment causing both of you to sweat. The night air seeps through Stilgar’s window– hot and humid.

You’ve never wanted to be closer to him.

“I’m a little inexperienced. I don’t want to hurt you.” He explains, and you scoff.

“So am I.” You tell him. “Actually, I’ve never…”

“Oh.” Stilgar takes on a very judicial look, one that you’re determined to stop before he rejects you for the “greater good” or something like that. “I would’ve never guessed that. You gave me the impression of expertise.”

“Then let me gain it.” You proclaim, and you cut him off before he says what you know he will. “You’re not forcing me into anything. I want to do this, just like I wanted to marry you.”

He scoffs, now, but Stilgar likes the sound of that and he kisses you again, pulling your shawl off, feeling you wrap around his torso with your legs– he feels you moan and shudder when he squeezes your thighs. He loves this, and when he starts removing your dress– you don’t stop him.

He pulls it down and under you, and you’re bare underneath. Stilgar examines your breasts with admiration– they’re the perfect size, they fit you well– and he immediately takes to one of your nipples with his teeth, causing you to cry out.

As he continues these bites over your chest, squeezing your breasts and your behind, suckling on your neck, feeding off of your sweat, you feel yourself slicken, wetness catching on Stilgar’s pants– so much quicker than you’re used to, when you used to touch yourself in your room at the temple. A waste of water, maybe, but it was worth the relief occasionally.

Stilgar notices, and he wordlessly lays you across his bed, spreading your legs open, looking down at your pussy.

You’re not completely sure what he’s doing, and you feel slightly vulnerable like this– entirely on display for him.

“Let me drink from you, Sayyadina. I would be honoured by this blessing– I thirst, and it would not be a waste.” He says in hushed tones, as he kneels in front of you, and you feel yourself slicken more if that’s possible. The sacred overtones of worship are not lost on you, practically becoming a kink for you as he speaks.

You nod, and he grasps your thighs tightly, practically pushing down on them so you’ll stay with open legs for him– he strokes them a few times, and then dives in with his tongue, lapping and licking slowly upwards to your clitoris, then quickly a few times to taste you faster, which causes you to seize as feelings of warmth and white-hot sensitivity overtake you, and with your fluids, and his saliva, you’re quickly reaching the point of finishing. His beard tickles, and you squirm a little, and start writhing and sweating, moans ebbing out of your throat, but that only makes Stilgar pull you in closer, tighter, pushing his tongue closer, almost inside, refusing your escape.

You don’t want that, anyways. And you finish in his mouth with a flourish as Stilgar laps up what you’ve given him– a drink from a Sayyadina.

You think he’s done, but you lean back with another sigh– a near scream, really– as Stilgar begins to lick at your clitoris, suckling on it, until you’re wet and aching again– and then he uses his fingers to spread your pussy open, and begins to fuck you with his tongue. It’s amazing, wet and writhing and and filthy– it feels nothing like your own fingers and entirely more adept at getting you to another orgasm. The speed at which his tongue languishes inside you should be considered unholy, all things considered– but you feel high, you feel like you’re closer to the Maker than ever– and he suckles at you, his lips closing around your entrance as you moan again and orgasm directly into his mouth.

Stilgar groans. He’s in love with your taste– he thinks he might wake you up every morning like this, if you’ll let him. He’s also painfully hard now– his cock strains against his pants, and he quickly starts undressing.  

“Sorry. I needed a second taste.” Stilgar apologizes, standing up, but he’s not sheepish about anything as he continues to rub you, to stroke your pussy to keep you wet. Up, down, up, down, Stilgar could get addicted to this sensation around his fingers– you’re so warm, soft, wet– he needs to be in you.

You’re beginning to feel overstimulated– you’re covered in sweat, and in between your thighs you’re soaked, practically dripping all over Stilgar’s hand as he continues to work you– and you twitch as you sit up, Stilgar’s fingers prodding inside you.

His cock bobs upwards, shiny with pre-cum, and the tip, hard and redder, while the rest is a flattering tan brown. Although this is your first time viewing the male genitalia, you’re drawn to it. You like how he looks partially naked– vulnerable like you, but warmer, soft and hard in different places– and you reach to take his shirt off, letting his full self be unsheathed.

And you like this– you feel an animalistic draw to his body, his chest hair, the broad muscles under them, and he moans loudly when your finger prods at the tip of his cock. Stilgar lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and spreads your ass, his cock nudging inside your pussy slowly, groaning as it does, gritting his teeth as every centimetre feels like another added pleasure of wetness, the bounds of which he does not know, but he is excited to be familiar with and do this again and again. 

You sink around him easily– you moan against his neck as you do– and Stilgar bottoms out, feeling you grip and tighten around him.  

After what feels like an eternity– both of you drunk on just being intertwined in such a way– he lifts you up again, thrusting outwards, and then back in, pushing you down on his cock, slamming into you. Stilgar’s warrior strength comes into play here– he fucks you relentlessly, and grips you so tightly you think you might be melting onto him. He begins to pound into you, your ass and thighs jiggling with the force of it all, and a severely perverted squelching and slapping sound builds up over time, over and over, his thighs and balls slapping against your thighs and ass, the sound of which you are sure is extremely loud.

You don’t care. You moan loudly, almost yelling as Stilgar’s cock twitches and catches inside you in a place so deep, you’ve never touched it yourself. 

You shake and twitch, barely holding onto him as you do, feeling an immense pressure build inside you, almost painfully, but with pleasure. Stilgar claims your mouth as he thrusts, kissing you, slipping his tongue inside as he drinks from you there– and he loves feeling you moan against his mouth as he does so.

He presses you against him tightly, rutting upwards, and then together he tips the both of you onto his bed again, him on top of you, this time using his fingers to play with your clitoris as you clench around his thrusting. You cum again, this time your fluids adding to Stilgar’s pleasure, and you moan as Stilgar’s hands tighten around your waist. The slap of his skin against yours is laden with sweat and your cum, but Stilgar is insatiable, and he thrusts harder.

You feel him inhale, moan, bite at your neck, and you feel his cock twitch again as he cums inside you, pulling out in a hazy stream, and you writhe against him, feeling the heat of the moment conjoining with the cooler air of the night.

He sighs, satisfied with what has happened, lying down next to you. “May Shai-Hulud allow us to do this again.”

/

Stilgar has to leave again, the next morning, as more Fremen are involved in fighting Harkonnen harvesters, and he wants to oversee this.

“I’m sorry, Sayyadina…” He swallows. He doesn’t want to leave you behind– if he could take you along on his back, he would. 

“Sahar.” You tell him.

“What was that?” He asks, and you wrap your arms around him and his stillsuit, dressed in your traditional Sayyadina dressings again.

“Sahar is my Sietch name. My sacred name, only for my sisters to know.” You explain, although you’re sure Stilgar knows this. He only knows your Fremen name, after all. “Since we’re married– I thought you should know my true name.”

“Sahar is a wonderful name… meaning morning.” Stilgar looks out the window with a slight smile. “But you outdo any of Arrakis’ sunrises, my dear.”

You laugh at that, as Stilgar knew you would. 

“You will still be Sayyadina to me, no matter what name you have.” He says, and there’s a warm feeling in your heart when you hear this, that he has a special name for you. You take his hands, and press your palm to his forehead.

“Oh Shai-Hulud… keep Stilgar safe from unwarranted danger today.” You whisper in Chakobsa, closing your eyes, and Stilgar closes his eyes too. “Do not risk his life.”

Your harsh, suddenly grating tone from using the Voice has Stilgar opening his eyes again. He has never heard you use it before.

“Thank you.” He pulls you up for a soft, parting kiss– and then after memories of last night echo inside his mind– he gives you a firmer, lingering kiss, laden with love for you.

/

Stilgar finds that despite his obvious devotion in his commitment to you– the women are more interested in him than ever.

And if he was a lesser man, perhaps he would act on this. But Stilgar has not forgotten the plan, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten you, not so soon. He knows you two are two sides of the same coin– meant to be.

This was not meant to be an outcome. He sees Feydakin women smiling at him, maybe a little too much– or maybe he has not noticed until now.

You said he was beautiful, and he had thought maybe that was just according to you. But seeing how Lady Jessica greets him, not impolitely but just with more… vulnerability, especially after her duke was killed, he thinks maybe you’re right. Maybe he has something.

Jessica stares at the deathstill, trembling over what Stilgar has told her. She must drink the Water of Life, she must take the place of a Reverend Mother– and she does not want this. She wants nothing more than to be comforted at this moment, because of what a tribulation this new order shall be on her.

Or at least, that’s the image she’s conveying, she hopes, and she believes she has Stilgar wrapped around her finger, her coying, Bene Gesserit way meant to coax people closer to her, and by extension, her wishes.

And Jessica can tell she’s done it right when Stilgar leans over, wipes away her tear, and licks it. Perhaps she can secure more support through playing the part of a sad widow.

/

It’s Nezua who saw what happened.

She interrupts your prayer, your first prayer after returning to the temple, sanctimonious as it is.

“Sahar, please don’t be upset. Just hear me out.” She pulls you into the main hall, where your sisters and Ramallo are reading ancient texts.

“What is it? What’s happened?” You look around wildly. 

Nezua’s deep blue eyes blink, as she wonders what to tell you, how to say it gracefully.

“I saw him. Naib. Standing close to that woman, to Lady Jessica– she cried about becoming a Reverend Mother– he stroked her face, licking a tear away.” Nezua admits, and you instantly blink back sudden tears.

“But he–”

“Men can be rascals, Sahar.” Nezua reprimands you, and you swallow, knowing you don’t know as much as her.

You do know about Jessica, though.

“She has been eyeing him for a while… I’ve watched it happen. She’s got her Bene Gesserit tactics, we know that. She wants to be a Mother, no matter what farce she applies in this moment to gain approval.” You shake your head. “He wouldn’t do that for no reason– she’s very convincing. And Stilgar supports everyone, why would he doubt her?”

Nezua calms down a bit.

“But if he wanted to marry her?” Ramallo suddenly chimes in, and you and your sisters watch as she speaks, suddenly convinced of something. “Would it not be the ultimate culmination of what we seek? The mother of the Lisan Al Gaib, integrated into our society… nothing could compare to how many Fremen this would convert. How many people would choose our way.”

“Great Mother, you picked me for that purpose.” You speak up, almost immediately, without fear. You don’t care if you’re speaking out of turn– you do not want to share Stilgar, lose him to some other woman– and here it seems everyone else is okay with it.

“Yes, and you’ve done well, but you of all people should want us to do better.” She remarks, not without a bit of bite in her tone. You hate that it has to be this way, that you stand in the way of something you used to wholeheartedly believe.

Just this once, you want to be selfish. You have faith that Paul will be Lisan Al Gaib, anyways, so why can’t it just be you and Stilgar?

“Once Jessica drinks the Water of Life, she will be a powerful Reverend Mother– all of Arrakis may be swayed by her.” Ramallo peers at your expression. “Don’t tell me you feel something as foolish as love, Sahar.”

“And if I do?” You state, blatantly.

“Then you must be loving enough to see that this would improve Stilgar’s life by far. Men may take multiple wives, you know that.” Ramallo tuts. “Perhaps you’re not as clever as I once thought.”

“He won’t do it. He knows that his love helps me, and as long as that’s in his priorities…” Your voice dies down, feeling like everything is falling apart as you speak.

“Yes, and how long will he care for a lower priestess when he can have a Reverend Mother? Especially one as faithful as him.” Ramallo shakes her head at your ignorance.

“Shut up! You’ve never felt love, you unspeakable witch–” You scream in Chakobsa, using the Voice, the full power of which seems to shake the temple.

Ramallo slaps you, hard enough that you fall back against the floor. Your skin hums with the stinging feel of a new bruise, sure to make it’s mark on your cheek– and she hisses at you.

“Insolent child. It was I that brought you here. It was I that even gave you the chance to be with Naib Stilgar. He would have never looked at you otherwise.” She mutters, and you feel your eyes glisten with tears.

She and your sisters leave, and you hold your breath, trying not to cry. Nezua strokes your arm.

“Perhaps, if he marries Jessica, it will only be a marriage in name.” She tries, but you shake your head. “You would be the one he really loves, Sahar.”

“Or I would be like a concubine– there to produce children, nothing more.” You think of how quickly you leapt into Stilgar’s waiting arms yesterday, and wonder if you were wrong. If his only intent was to have someone he could fuck on a ready basis.

You shake your head. “I need to speak to him.”

/

You sit on the ground of his quarters, stating a small prayer to stay calm, and when Stilgar walks in, he sounds pleased to see you.

“Sayyadina, I did not expect you back so soon.” He touches your hand, but based on how you draw yourself back, he knows something is wrong. “What is it?”

“You want Jessica. Right? To be your wife?” You say, and he shakes his head.

“We discussed it once–” and your stomach drops at that. “But it would have only been a marriage of convenience to protect her, long ago. Nothing more.”

“Then what happened today, in the deathstill?” You ask, and Stilgar furrows his brows.

“I only relayed Ramallo’s message to her. And she was a bit sad, so I comforted her, that’s all. She almost wasted some water by crying, so I drank it.” Stilgar sits down on the ground next to you. “I promise you, I do not want her.”

“Even if she’s a reverend mother? Closer to your faith? Easier to perpetuate our–” Here you stutter. “The mission?”

“Whoa, whoa.” He softens visibly. “Sayyadina, if you cannot see now that I love you, tell me how to right that wrong.”

“Tell me why you believe you’ll stick with me–” You tear up again and wipe it away. “Tell me you won’t leave me.” 

“I have no interest in Jessica– she is a conniving one, but whatever she thinks may happen, it will not.” He shrugs. “I don’t believe she loves me or wants me in that way, either– she still mourns her duke.”

Of course, you think. She might have only been staring at me that one time because she remembered when she used to be in love. Maybe she was even jealous… Jessica was a concubine.

You suddenly feel much more at peace. You don’t think you would’ve ever left Stilgar even if he had married Jessica– but you’re suddenly more understanding of her pain, to be the one not known in any collected record despite being loved.

“I only did anything I could to make her feel more comfortable with her new role.” Stilgar grins. “And if she succeeds– the faith will have more people interested in it, and there will be less pressure on us.”

“That’s true.” You finally tear your gaze from the floor to look at him, and he smiles at you before frowning at the bruise on your cheek.

“What’s this?” Stilgar gently touches you, and he gets angry hearing you hiss.

“Nothing, just a silly altercation.” You explain, but he’s not satisfied with that.

“With who?”

“Ah… Ramallo slapped me after I said she would never understand love.” Suddenly you’re ashamed, and you feel as if Stilgar would be disappointed in you. “She said the best thing would be if you married Jessica– and I guess I… I didn’t want to lose you, so I used the Voice on her.” “You did?” Stilgar raises his eyebrows, in surprise that you’d do such a thing, make a rash judgement like that against your elder. “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

You lean into his touch, feeling better that he’s not angry at you.

“But I am sorry I wasn’t there to see you take ownership of me.” He laughs quietly. “You really love me that much? Then I’m only yours.”

You smile so hard at that– massive relief flowing through your nerves– and Stilgar kisses your bruise, before kissing your lips and making you feel whole again.

#stilgar x reader #stilgar x you #stilgar #dune x reader #dune x you #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune 2 #dune 2024 #x reader #dune #dune movie #javier bardem #chani kynes #ramallo #reverend mother #paul atreides #bene gesserit #sayyadina #lady jessica #writing #fic writing #fanfic #fiction #angst #fluff #smut #stilgar fluff #stilgar angst #stilgar smut

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Oasis｡⋆.

Stilgar x plus size reader

When the sand is still and the sun has set, you reflect on what has become of your life but there is someone unexpected who wishes to show you how valued you truly are

Warnings: some Dune 2 spoilers but nothing too major, suicidal thoughts, self-hatred, fluff, love confessions, hope , mentions of death and pregnancy

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You doubted that you would ever get used to the harshness of Arrakis. The heat and the perpetual dryness were a constant reminder about how far from home you really were but your duty was not to your own comfort, it was to your Lady Jessica. You followed her from the drowned planet of Caladin all the way here, protecting her and her son, as well as the unborn child within her. 

The Fremen looked down on you, even after Jessica was named Reverend Mother and Paul became Muad'Dib, you were still the outsider, the one whose eyes had yet to be stained by the Spice. You got used to eating, sleeping and walking alone, the sand beneath your feet becoming the only thing you could count on. You trailed behind everyone else, they called you a waste of water and there were times that you couldn’t help but agree. You could not fight, nor harvest Spice, you were raised and trained to be a lady’s maid, destined to spend your days in the shadows observing the world around you as life passed you by.

You often wondered why Stilgar had fought so hard for you to stay with the Fremen when you had nothing to offer them. Even Lady Jessica couldn’t find a use for you anymore. 

The moonlight cast a blue glow over the mountainous sand dunes and you could almost imagine that they were the ocean waves of your home planet. The camp was quiet, everyone having retired for the night an hour before yet you remained awake, deep in thought. No one would know you had gone until the morning, the wind would wash away your foot prints. You would give your water to the desert.

Just as you rose to your feet, a strong hand clamped down onto your shoulder, keeping you in place. “Why are you not resting Suhl?” Stilgar’s voice was quiet but it still held such power over you. You turned slowly in his hold to face him, yet he did not release your shoulder. His blue eyes shone like gems in the moonlight, making your heart jump and flutter. 

“Forgive me for worrying you, I found that I couldn’t sleep.” You bowed your head. Stilgar tutted softly and hooked a finger beneath your chin, guiding your eyes back to his. His thick brows were pinched in confusion though his expression remained soft, far softer than you had seen him look at anyone else. He seemed doubtful of your excuse.

“How many times have I told you to come find me if you need something?” Your cheeks blazed with the heat of shame. Stilgar was a generous man, especially with those he cared for and inexplicably, he was almost too giving when it came to you. He gave you extra water when you had consumed yours too quickly, he showed you how to sand walk when your fear of the sand worms had mounted, he had even shared his tent with you on so many occasions that you had lost track of the number. 

His hand shifted to your soft cheek, his calloused palm from a lifetime of fighting a stark reminder that you were not made for this life, this planet. “I can see that is not all that worries you Suhl. Tell me what troubles are clouding your mind.” You attempted to swallow down the thick lump trapped in your throat but when the older Fremen let his free hand wander to your lower back, his thumb gently rubbing the base of your spine, you choked on the tears you had not allowed yourself to shed.

“It is nothing.” You tried to deny and tug yourself away from the man that had been caring for you. Your eyes burned as he held you closer, a show of affection that you had never received before. He clicked his tongue at you, as if he were scolding a child.

“Suhl.” He cooed, dipping down to press his forehead to your own, the tips of your noses brushing together. You could no longer hold back.

The first tear that rolled down your full cheek shocked you both. It was quickly followed by another and another and another until they dripped down your chin and onto the loose white shirt Stilgar wore at night. You hiccuped and slumped into his strong chest. You clutched at his waist as you continued to sob but the Fremen, despite his constant insistence that absolutely no water could be wasted, gently rocked you back and forth, whispering comforting words into your hair, even if you couldn’t understand them.

“I shouldn’t be here. I should have been killed with the others when the Harkonnens. I am of no use to anyone and everyone knows it.” You pretend not to notice the way his muscles seize and he goes stiff in your arms, you wished to bask in his affections for as long as you could, before he too realised the truth.

His thumb ceased its movement and he slowly pried his chest away from yours. “Is that what you truly believe?” Your lack of an answer told him everything he needed to know.

He pulled you back into him, his thick arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders like he were fearful that you would suddenly dart away from him and into the desert where he could not follow you. Your eyes screwed shut as you curled into him. More tears stained his shirt but he did not flinch away from you.

“Do not waste your water on those who would not drink from you. You are better off crying for the dead.” A light breeze washed over the both of you, kicking up the sand around your feet. “You are not like us Suhl, you are soft where we are ruthless. It is true that you are not meant for this life but I would not have you take that light away from this world, not when I can keep you safe until this world is kind enough to let you bloom.” 

“Why?”

His chuckle made your head bounce against his sternum. “I thought it obvious. You are my Suhl.” A hand came up to lovingly cup the back of your head, urging you to look him in the eyes. “Suhl means peace. And that is what you are: my peace. And one day, when the sands have disappeared beneath a sea of green and Dune is free once more, I hope that I shall be yours too.”

You can’t help but smile which in turn makes Stilgar beam, the blue of his eyes shimmering with what you now realised was love. “Thank you Suhl.” Your pronunciation was clumsy and most certainly needed some practice but still, he squeezed the base of your skull and dipped down, pressing his lips to yours.

The sun would rise soon and you would be forced back into the real world and all its dangers, but for now, you basked in the moonlight, safe in his arms. Perhaps Arrakis held more than just pain.

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#naib stilgar x plus size reader #naib stilgar x reader #naib stilgar x you #naib stilgar x y/n #stilgar x plus size reader #stilgar x reader #stilgar x you #stilgar x y/n #plus size reader #female reader #reader insert #fluff #angst #dune 2 #dune 2024 #javier bardem

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Her Emperor, His Destiny

(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.

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.

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.”

#paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you #paul atredies smut #paul atreides x fem!reader #paul atreides fanfic #Paul atreides one shot #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #dune smut #dune fanfic #dune fanfiction

[firelilyfox]

Crush

Dune : Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: None / just fluff

You have a crush on Paul & he might have the same feeling about you

This is my first fanfic on this platform & my first about Dune. Please forgive me for mistakes (English is not my first language)

comments/reblogs are appreciated :]

If you have any ideas what scenarios I could do next then let me know because this is fun!

——————————————————-

The sun was setting as you finally arrived. It was a long and hard day and you are longing for some comfort, but everyone of your friends was busy with drinking and making fun of the believers like Stilgar. Even your best friend Chani was nowhere to be found.

Only he was there. Paul Arteides.

The One. The Voice… or some bullshit like that. You weren’t one of the believers. In your eyes Paul is just a normal human being with a talent for big speeches.

You never really talked to him more than three words because the thought alone made you nervous. Since he joined the Fremen two months ago you had a little … crush on him. And obviously you weren’t really good at smalltalk. Especially when all of your people have eagle eyes on the boy you wanted to talk to.

But tonight he was alone. Nobody paid any attention to him as Paul was sitting in a shadowy corner by a small fireplace, sipping a drink. For a second you wanted to turn away and just going to bed like every other night, but something tells you to do the opposite.

„Can I join you?“ You asked bravely.

Paul looked up with a little smile on his face. „Please do. I’ve been waiting.“

You hesitate for a moment, frowning but you sit down right next to him. „What where you waiting for?“

He chuckled softly. „For someone like you to talk to me.“

„Someone like me?“ You asked confused and watching his smile getting even brighter. Paul has that kind of smile, that makes you want to smile too instantly. All you can hope for is that the flickering light of the fire conceal you’re blushing.

„Yeah. Someone who truly dislikes me.“

You smirked. „What makes you think that I dislike you? Oh, mighty Duke of Arrakis?“

A warm laughter escaped his lips and for the first time ever you really saw his face light up in enjoyment. „Oh please don’t say that. It sounds awful! I only said it because I was in the heat of the moment.“

„I liked it.“

His laughing froze for a moment and he looked surprised. „You liked it? Are you having a stroke or something?“

„No!“ You laughed. „I really liked it. Sure it was a litte … dramatic but in the end you have a talent to bring people together and give them hope. That’s pretty impressing.“

He shrugged his shoulders. „Nah, I’m just good at telling people what they want to hear I guess.“ He hesitated. „Chani told me that you weren’t one of the believers and that you think this whole Lisan al Gaib thing is just bullshit.“ Paul is offering you his cup and you accept to take a sip. Immediately the taste of wine fills your senses. While you process his words you lick some of the wine from your lips and catching him starring at them.

Did you just imagine how his gaze darkened for a second or did that really had an impact on him?

You clear your throat because all of the sudden your mouth got dry again. „You talked to Chani about me?“

A crooked smile shows on his lips. „Yeah I did. I was … I wanted to…“

„I thought you were good with words?“ You say to mock him with success.

„I am good with words! But you have the talent to make me forget what I wanted to say and how.“ His eyes are locked with yours and you are able to feel how your heart skips a beat.

You wanted to say something but your mind were blank. Paul moves closer to you, slowly to make sure that you were able to stop him at any time.

„I like how you unsettle me“, he whispered. You could feel his breath against your lips. „Every time I see you I find new strength. But I never found the courage to talk to you.“

„But you … you always seemed so … full of courage“, your voice was not more than a scratching.

„I’m good at pretending“, Paul swallows hard and his eyes darted to your lips again. „Sometimes.“

„Sometimes?“ You asked.

„I can’t pretend that I don’t want to kiss you right now.“

You wanted to say something, but before you were able to even catch a breath his lips laid on yours. Soft like the morning wind in the desert. His hand holding your cheek and pulling you closer as you gave in to the kiss. Your fingers find their way up his chest and into his curled hair.

A little moan escaped your throat as he intensifies the kiss and as an answer to your reaction, you could feel him smiling against your lips.

„I think Muad’Dib is enjoying his time with the Fremen!“ You two were interrupted by some drunk Fremen men cheering and applauding from afar.

Paul and you are giggling like kids. Both with red cheeks and swollen lips. „Your people like a good show, mh?“

„Only if the mighty Duke of Arrakis is involved.“

#paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #dune part two #dune movie #dune part one #fluff #paul atreides fluff #dune fluff #timothée chalamet #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you

[lieutenantfloyd]

How they react to you suddenly kissing them — Dune preference

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nyrasproblm]

Could you write a fic with lady jessica where she uses the voice on reader even though she knows that reader feels physical pain when the voice is used on her. like jessica uses it in an argument or something… fluff ending though!!! thank you!

Hey, hope you like 🤍

Broken trust

Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides x reader (fem fremen)

Word Count: 1,1K

Warning: angst, a little fluff at the end, use of the Voice on someone, they are two idiots here.

"I already told you what I think about this." you continued cleaning the stillsuits without looking at her.

Lady Jessica, now Reverend Mother Jessica, insisted to you about the prophecy of the Lisan al-Gaib, but even though you were Fremen and followed Stilgar as your leader, you could not believe this prophecy. You and Jessica became close after a few weeks of her arriving at the sietch, you offered to teach her some basic things and she appreciated it. She liked having you around and seemed happy with your presence.

But as the weeks went by, their relationship also changed. You confided things to each other, you preferred to be alone in far corners rather than around people, you exchanged some subtle caresses, and you kissed when no one was around. At a certain point, you started lying together, not in a sexual way, of course, you were aware of the strange fetus your lover was carrying. But even so, you didn't change your mind about the prophecy. For you, it was all another ploy to oppress your people through fear and faith.

"I thought you trusted me after all this time, after everything we've been through together." she argued, hands holding her swollen belly.

"I trust you. I don't trust that prophecy, and I don't trust the Bene Gesserit either." you picked up another suit and started cleaning it, still not looking at her.

"I am a Bene Gesserit, the Reverend Mother." she continued.

"I chose to ignore that part." you started rubbing the suits harder.

She sighed loudly, contorting her face into a displeased expression. You continued cleaning the stillsuits while sitting on the floor. You hated arguing with Jessica, you once had a heated argument and she used the Voice on you in a moment of anger. You had never felt such severe pain in your entire life, your body twitched slightly and you fell to the floor, gasping for air. Jessica was horrified, she ran to you and held you in her arms, she kept mumbling apologies and swore she would never do that again.

"I thought you loved me." she started talking again.

"Don't start that again, don't try to manipulate me again!" you raised your angry face to her, stood up and pointed your finger at her. "You know I hate it when you start saying things like that."

"Don't point fingers." she said calmly and you rolled your eyes.

You turned around and began to gather the clean stillsuits in silence, when you finished picking them up you started walking away from her.

"Are you leaving again?" you heard her voice but kept walking. "For a Fremen you run away a lot from the things that bother you, you don't look anything like your people."

You immediately stopped in place and turned to her slowly.

"What did you say?"

"Please, let's talk properly." She took a few steps closer.

"You just insulted me, the worst of insults, and you want me to talk to you properly?" you glared at her. "Reverend Mother." you spat.

You breathed heavily, your nostrils slightly flared, your brow furrowed in anger. Jessica looked as serene as ever, her gaze softening toward you.

"You know how important this prophecy is to me-" she began.

"Exactly, it's important to you, but I know what it will do to my people, Jessica." you began. "Don't you take that into account? You and your son arrived and want to change everything, I endured everything in silence and remained by your side, but you say I don't love you."

You knew Jessica didn't love you, she loved Duke Leto, but you knew you occupied a part of her heart. You saw when she looked at you with affection and when she wanted to stay by your side.

"Stay by my side, please." she softened her voice.

"My opinion will remain the same. This matter is finished." you turned to leave again.

"Don't turn your back on me." she spoke sternly.

You continued to walk away from her.

"Get back here now!" she used the Voice and you immediately lost your breath.

The stillsuits fell to the floor and you practically slid closer to her, your body in silent agony. Your eyes widened as you tried to breathe. You managed to slowly catch your breath, grunting in the process. You saw her bending down next to you, careful of her pregnant belly, her eyes slightly wide. She tried to help you get up but you pushed her hands away and started to crawl away.

"My dear, please..." she began to speak and you turned your face to her, your eyes filled with tears that you knew you couldn't shed.

"Witch." you muttered and managed to get up, then got out of there as quickly as possible.

The days passed and you stayed as far away from Jessica as possible, she broke your trust by using the Voice on you again, even though she knew what it did to you.

You focused on completing your tasks and staying out of her eyes. The Fremen seemed increasingly devoted to the boy Paul, calling him Muad'dib, Lisan al-Gaib, Usul and the like. You just stayed away.

You were arranging some objects in the common area when you heard a light rustling of cloth behind you, you turned your face slightly and saw Jessica standing there. She looked the same as last time, a veil over her head, light tunic, tattoos on her face, and blue eyes like yours, made by the spice.

"Do you need something, Reverend Mother?" you asked as you focused back on your task.

"Please, we need to talk." her voice sounded fragile.

"Like last time?" you scoffed.

You remained silent, the sound of your movements as you cleaned were the only sounds present besides your breathing.

"I love you." the fragile voice was heard again. You froze your movements.

You stood up but remained with your back to her. You heard the footsteps approaching and you didn't have time to turn around, she held you tightly against her, her arms wrapped around you, her swollen belly pressing against your back.

"I love you." she whispered again. Faced with his silence, she spoke again. "Please, anything, say anything."

You let go of her arms gently and turned around, looking at her thin, fragile face.

"You have to be more careful with your belly." you said softly.

She took one of your hands and placed it on her stomach firmly, then placed her other hand on your cheek.

"I swear to you with my life, for everything I feel for you, that I will never use the Voice on you again." she whispered staring at you, her eyes looking straight into yours, blue on blue. "Forgive me."

You looked at her and sighed, then walked over and buried your face in the crook of her neck, smelling her sweet scent. She stroked his hair as she breathed a sigh of relief.

"I love you." she whispered again.

"I love you." you replied into the skin of her neck.

#writing #writers on tumblr #dune fanfiction #fem reader #lady jessica x reader #reverend mother jessica x you #reverend mother jessica x reader #lady jessica x you #jessica atreides #dune part 2 #dune movie #wlw post #wlw #sapphic

[madamevirgo]

Here I am, Here I remain.

Pairing: Lady Jessica x (f)reader

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Spoilers!!, angst, fluff, Chani

A/N: So, I was absolutely not planning on writing a sequel to this, but some of you started asking, and my brain started working, and this came out at 3:30am. There will not be a third part to this, but this is of course not my last Lady Jessica work. Also, note that there are spoilers in this. I have seen Dune: Part 2, 5 times already so it's literally engraved in my brain and on my eyelids. I hope those who wanted a sequel to this little story of mine aren't disappointed. Big shoutout to the person who submitted the original request. If you haven't already, follow me on Twitter so we can be moots and talk about our faves :) Happy reading.

Part 1

After that night, there had been a noticeable shift in your relationship with The Reverend Mother. 

In public, you no longer walked five paces behind. It was more common to see you by her side or no more than a step behind, watching her back like a hawk. So much so so, that people had taken to calling you ‘The Shadow’ - the thought that people saw you as an extension of her, filled you with an indescribable amount of joy.

There was now a certain lightness to the Reverend Mother as if you were the missing piece to her complete acceptance of her new reality. She was quicker to laugh and seemed much more focused and involved in the fate of the Fremen. She had stopped talking to her belly so much as she turned to you, her confidante - sometimes you were more of a sounding board than anything, but you were more than happy to have her throw ideas at you if it helped her in any way. 

In private, things had also changed for the better. It was rare for there to be silence between you two, times in private were spent telling the other of life before each other; and in her case, how she was adapting to her new role and life. She told you of her parentage, she now knew the identity of at least one of her parents, and you had shared how Stilgar had raised you like his own daughter. You had developed a complicity that surpassed friendship, but you also weren’t sure how to describe this thing between you. ‘Friendship’ felt both like a gross oversimplification yet anything else carried an aura of delusion. The lingering looks, the gentle touches exchanged and the comfort that she provided, brought forth feelings that you hadn’t previously experienced. Every moment spent in her company seemed too short. 

It was because you had become so close emotionally, that it had been easy for you to notice oddities in her behaviour. She was more on edge, jumping at loud noises and snapping at the smallest thing. She also watched you as if you would disappear at any moment, which caused her to be clingy and on edge whenever you weren’t next to her. Pretty soon, you had concluded, that she had foreseen something. 

You had tried to broach the subject: “I see that something is troubling you, my lady.” you had whispered one day while you ate in the communal space. “Won’t you share the burden with me, so that you might breathe a little easier, at least?” she had frozen for a second, a change barely visible to untrained eyes, before relaxing.

“I cannot say.” she had said simply before continuing to eat. 

“You don’t deny that it is something?” you exclaimed silently. You had expected her to deny it. “Why won’t you tell me, it is clearly causing you to worry.” You were getting agitated now, and when you noticed some heads looking in your direction with veiled curiosity, you took a deep breath to calm yourself. 

“I have been cursed with knowledge.” she started slowly, quietly - collecting her thoughts as she spoke. “I see many different outcomes for many different decisions, and hear the voices of all those before me whispering in my head. I always worry, sometimes a bit more than usual. I can handle it, what I will not stand for, however, is you asking for things I cannot give.” You flinched, as she continued her rampage. “I cannot share everything with you; because sharing them will not do anything other than put a burden on your shoulder, a burden that I must carry alone.” she finished 

“Bu-” you started

“Enough!” was the command that came out of her mouth. The sheer force of the order had your body recoiling and your mind spinning, forcing you into silence. 

It took you a few seconds before you could regain your senses. You looked around in confusion, before setting your eyes on her, and the shock of the realization caused your eyes to open and your chest to heave. She had used the voice on you. 

She had used the voice on you. 

The communal room had never been so silent. Not even during nighttime, as there were always Fremen patrolling around. Yet, right now it was so quiet that you could hear your heart beating in your ears as your body felt hot with embarrassment, shock and hurt. You sensed a movement in front of you, but before she could say or do anything else, you had stood up and left. Not looking back, and avoiding the eyes that followed you out of the communal space. 

—------------------

Stilgar and Chani were rarely, if ever on the same page. However, one thing that they could agree on, was that you were the best of them. You didn’t agree. Although you did try to control your anger, preferred to think before acting when possible and trusted until proven wrong, you could never escape the Fremen pride. 

The Reverend Mother, Jessica, had in just a second, taken away your free will and reduced you to a puppet. And she did it in front of your people. You were shaking with silent anger, your fists were clenched, and your nails were creating bloody half-moon cuts in your palms. Had it been any other weirding woman - had you been any other Fremen - you would have slit her throat. Instead, you walked away to calm yourself. 

Your steps guided you to your childhood home. You walked right in and slammed the door behind you, closed your eyes and leaned against it for support, before pushing forward with a harsh kick of your feet against the wooden entrance. 

“What did my door do to you?” You meant to go to your room and ruminate in peace, but the voice of your father had you enter the living room where he sat on a cushion he used for prayer and meditation. 

You stayed quiet as you paced up and down the living room, trying and failing to calm down. Never in your life had you been so angry. 

“First my door, now my floor. What is the matter with you?” you heard Stilgar ask, still you didn’t stop. It was only when he grabbed you by your shoulders that you stopped and let out a growl-like sigh. “Come, let’s sit and you can tell me what has angered you so,” he said as he led you to the couch.

You suddenly felt like a child again, like when you would have a nightmare or the other children would tease you to tears and you would run to him. He would sit you on his lap and hug you in his big arms and make everything better, everything would go away. 

Except now, you were an adult with grown-up feelings and responsibilities - and he couldn’t make this - whatever it was - go away. You still told him, about how you’d grown close to Lady Jessica and how she was worried about something, and how when you’d asked, out of concern, she’d used the voice on you. 

You expected him to get just as angry if not more than you, but he remained calm and thoughtful. 

Finally he said: “She said you were asking for things she couldn’t give?” he questioned. 

“Did you not hear the part where I said she used The Voice on me?” you asked in exasperation before getting up and resuming your pacing. 

“Do you know why I assigned you to her?’ he asked instead of answering your question.

“Because I’m your daughter and you trust me? Because I’m one of the best Fedaykin, because I’m a good diplomat? I don’t know father.” You snapped. He was angering you even more. 

“Yes, to all these.” He agreed as you sighed. “But, the real reason I assigned you to the Reverend Mother is because she needs a friend and you are the only person I know who wouldn’t be judgemental, or rude. You would give her a chance before anything else.” He explained as you stopped your pacing to listen to him. “The Bene Gesserit see more than we do, because of their training. A Reverend Mother sees even more. She is cursed with all the knowledge of the past and that of the future while seeing all the outcomes possible. It’s a big responsibility.” He said lost in thought. “It makes for a lonely life. One I have forced her to live. I guess it was only right that I gave her something to help her out.” he finished. 

“I can understand that, but that still doesn’t make up for her removing my free will like that,” You whisper as you sit next to him. 

“You have to understand that pushing her won’t do any good, and although you wish to help yoheru carry this load - you can’t. The only thing you can do is be there for her - by her side - and wait until she comes to you,” he said 

“When will that be?” You whispered 

“When she’ll be ready,” he replied. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/n. You’ve been a very positive presence in her life.” he hesitated, “I believe that what hurt you the most is the fact that she said she might not be able to give you what you were asking for.” he started, “Perhaps you took it and applied it to some more…romantic feelings of yours.” he finished with a small smile, as I felt heat rush all over my body. 

“Stilgar!” You exclaimed in embarrassment 

“I may be getting old, but my eyes still work. I see how you’ve been around her. This will be something to acknowledge when you’re ready.” he finished and I sighed.

“Thank you, father,” You say with a soft smile, which he returns.

Our moment was interrupted by a loud noise that shook the entire yali, followed by screams. You were immediately on your feet as you rushed out.

Your heart beating widely in your chest. 

—--------------------------------------------

Chaos was everywhere you looked. Children and adults alike rushed to escape the Sietch or to find loved ones lost in the panic as you were being attacked. 

You helped where you could, but you only had one thing on your mind, and that was to find Jessica. You wanted to believe that she had been rushed out by the fanatics of the prophecy, but you wouldn’t leave until you were absolutely sure. Why did I run away like a petulant child? You asked yourself. You’d never forgive yourself if something had happened to her. 

You ran from corner to corner as you helped some of the men and Fedaykin lead the people out to the rocks outside. Stilgar wasn’t too far and was shouting orders for the people to stay calm as rushing would only make things worse. 

You could see some bodies already lathering the floor as people passed you with missing appendages, tears in their eyes and their skin covered in blood. You probably didn’t fare much better - dust had covered your skin and your sight had been hindered. Still, you pushed through. I have to find her.

“Y/n!” You looked to Stilgar. “Get out of here!” He shouted and you shook my head, he sighed and you continued searching around for her, and helping people to the exit. 

From the corner of your eyes, you saw a large boulder rushing towards a little girl who was crying and screaming for her parents. You ran, as fast as you could and swept her up in your arms and out of the way before the rock could hit her. A woman who must have known her, grabbed her from you, and you urged them towards the exit. 

Still, you couldn’t find her, and the attacks didn’t stop. Most people were out, and you hadn’t caught a glimpse of her or even heard a mention of her name. Why did I leave her?

You suddenly found yourself on the ground as you were knocked down. You watched with blurry eyes, as you were trampled on as feet rushed past you. No one stopped to help you. Before you surrendered to the darkness, you heard Stilgar’s voice screaming your name, and your last thought was to Jessica. I hope she’s safe. Please be safe.

—--------------------

You slowly open your eyes to darkness, and for a moment you were afraid you had lost your eyesight. You slowly sat up, every bone in your body protesting and looked around before letting out a sigh of relief. You were in a cave and could see and hear the hustling around.

You got up, your movements slow and tentative before walking out and into the desert. You could see the damage that had been done, people around you were crying, and shouting. So many lost, who had done this? You could feel anger resurfacing in you, and you were suddenly reminded that Jessica was still missing. 

All around you, people were busy doing something as you looked for her. You noticed Shishakli some paces away and quickly walked to her. She noticed you and pulled you in a hug, only slightly hurting you.

“Thank the Maker,” she whispered as you closed your arms around her. “You scared me, Stilgar and Chani have been so worried. We all were,” she said as you separated from the hug, but her hands stayed on your forearms.

You felt a slight pang of guilt at not having spared a thought to her and the others.  

“What happened?” You asked, your voice coming out hoarse.

“Harkonnens” she growled. “They used some primitive explosives on us. Caught us by surprise. We’re treating our wounded before making our way South. A council has been called.” She explained. 

“Is Stilgar in any shape to speak?” You asked in concern, looking around for him. 

“He looks shaken up, but he’ll be okay. I hear he’s pushing for Usul to speak,” she said and you looked at her in shock. Only leaders could speak in the South. 

Surely - No. Paul wouldn’t. Of that you were certain. You had spent enough time with his mother to know what he was and wasn’t capable of. A voice in the back of your head whispered: Paul wouldn’t, but what about the Kwisatz Haderach?

You banished those thoughts. And focused on your friend and what you really cared about. 

“Where is the Reverend Mother?” you asked, the concern and urgency detectable even to your ears. Without a word, Shishakli pointed behind you, where you could see two people standing at the very top of a rock. 

“Her and Usul are discussing as she waits for her palanquin to be ready to leave.” You thanked her, before rushing towards the two Atreides. 

You arrived as their conversation ended and Paul was leaving. He nodded at you in greeting.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, with a glance back at his mother. “Take care of my mother and sister for me, will you?” he asked as you nodded. The ‘with my life’ was implied. And he left, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 

You were left alone with his mother. You took a breath before looking at her, she was staring right back at you. Her eyes said more than you could understand. Something about the way she looked at you was different. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“I’m sorry” 

You smiled as you spoke at the same time. “No, wait. I’ll go first.” you started. “I’m sorry I left like that, I was angry. I’m still angry, but I got so scared when I couldn’t find you. I looked around until I passed out, not kn-” You were cut off as you felt yourself rambling.

Jessica had crossed the small distance between you and pulled in a hug, her head resting in the crook of your neck. You held your breath for a moment, before wrapping your arms around her and breathing in her scent. You could finally breathe normally, for the first time since breakfast. 

“I wish you hadn’t looked for me,” she whispered in your neck, making you shiver. “I had to be dragged away. I was so worried when the first attack hit and I couldn’t find you anywhere, I watched and waited for you to come out - and when you finally did...” she hugged you tighter, before stepping away and staring into your eyes. “I’m sorry I used The Voice on you, I shouldn’t have done that. I will never do that again. Not to you.” she whispered the last part as she cupped your cheek with her hand. 

“Thank you,” You whispered, moved by her heartfelt apology and by the fact that she had been so worried about your safety.

She smiled before becoming more serious. “Y/n,” she started, and you looked at her prompting her to continue. “I-” A voice cut her off and you put some distance between you.

“Your palanquin is ready, Reverend Mother.” said a voice at the foot of the rocks, and she thanked the man. 

“In the South,” she said with a sigh. “Everything will come to a head in the South; there, we will talk,” she said as she started her descent to the palanquin. 

—------------------------------------

Except you didn’t talk. Things had been too busy for you to have a moment alone, long enough to put your cards on the table. 

She had become simultaneously more secretive and more caring. And then, Paul had died, and she had remained oddly quiet. 

This was the woman who worried about him daily, while he was fighting with the Fedaykin, yet she stared emotionlessly at the pale face of her firstborn, while others all around wept. Your eyes widened in understanding when Chani came storming in, how not to believe when you are faced with the hard cold facts? Paul was the Kwisatz Haderach, the Lisan al Gaib, the Mahdi. And Jessica was not just a mere Reverend Mother. 

You were in a trance as you followed Chani into a room that had been assigned to her. You watched as she walked around the room, her anger loud and clear. 

“What are you doing?” you asked finally, pushing your thoughts aside to focus on her distress. 

“I’m leaving.” She said as she pushed her clothes into her bag. “I will not watch as we cheer and support our new oppressor. Even if it’s Paul, the man I love.” she said angrily and she harshly wiped a tear from her cheek. 

“I think that’s the problem,” you said softly. 

“What?” she asked as she continued packing and you made yourself comfortable on the bed. 

“The problem is, you love Paul,” you said louder as she looked at you. “You love Paul - that boy who has lost everything and doesn’t know who he is; you love Usul - the man you were trying to create, the one who was escaping his destiny. But are you willing to love the Mahdi, the Lisan al Gaib, and the Kwisatz Haderach?” you continued. “Are you willing to love and accept the person he has to become and the things that he has to do? Stand by his side?” Although you were speaking about her situation, the words echoed with you. 

The weight of the responsibilities which lay on Jessica’s shoulders had only now become clear, and you found yourself thinking about your role in her life, about your feelings.

“What are you doing here?” you looked up at the cold words uttered by Chani and saw the object of your thoughts standing in the doorway. She was dressed down in a simple robe, with no veil obstructing her face, letting you see the tattoos which only served to enhance her beauty. She was beautiful. She was Jessica, not the Reverend Mother with plans within plans - just Jessica. Your heart skipped a beat. 

Her eyes swept across the room, taking in the clothes thrown about and the bag nearly packed to the brim, before meeting your eyes for just a second and settling on Chani. “I came to thank you and wish you good luck in your ventures,” she said softly.

“I don’t need anything from you,” said Chani as she grabbed the rest of her clothes, before making her to the door. I got up to follow her and watched as she stopped next to Jessica. “I hope destroying your son was worth it,” she said angrily, before leaving. You tried to follow her out, but were stopped by a hand on your wrist, forcing you to look at the tattooed woman. 

“Can we talk?” she asked in that same soft tone. You looked at Chani quickly retreating before nodding. You would catch up. 

“What is it?” You asked in an even tone as you sat back down on the bed, effectively putting distance between you. 

“Are you thinking of leaving with Chani?” she asked, not wasting any time. You stared at her. You were considering it, yes. But you also didn’t want to leave her. She must have sensed your indecisiveness. “I’m sorry if you were put off by all that I had to do, and what I will have to do in the future to ensure that the prophecy is completed. I wish I could say this isn’t me, but I’ve been trained for this my whole life, and this is what I’ve become.” she took a deep breath, “There’s been a lot of confusion in my head lately, but one thing I know for sure is that I love you.” she whispered and your heart skipped a beat. “I wasn’t prepared to love you, or anyone for that matter, but I fell for you and only realized when it was too late.” she paused as if to collect her thoughts. “I’m not here to beg you to stay or maybe I am, I’d very much prefer if you did; if only to keep my heart whole. Whatever the case, I had to say it: I love you. Not like I loved my Duke; it’s different but just as strong, if not more. There isn’t any obligation linked to my love for you, yet here I am, and here I shall remain, with my heart in my hands for you to claim - should you want it or not, it’s yours.” she finishes quietly and you stayed quiet as you took the time to process what she just said.

“You are Jessica, loving, caring, funny, sweet, gentle and sensitive. You are a Bene Gesserit, a Reverent Mother, you are the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach: you are driven, controlling, unrelenting, and secretive.” With each word, you took a step until you were right in front of her. “You are all that, and I love you. I will not always agree with what you have to do, or understand, but I will still love you and stand by your side. So here I am, and here I shall remain.” You said, echoing her words. “I will take your heart and cherish it - if you’re willing to take mine and do the same,” You said softly as you felt tears run down your face. 

She looked at you so softly, and traced your cheek with her hand, just as gently, before pulling you impossibly close and whispering: “Your heart will be safe with me” before pressing her lips to yours in a searing kiss. 

The road ahead was patchy, but you would walk it forever if it meant you could stay by her side.

#madamevirgowrites #dune #dune part two #lady jessica #lady jessica x reader #rebecca ferguson x reader #rebecca ferguson

[visd3stele]

Between waves and dunes, there's us

summary: in another universe, paul takes chani to his home planet and she sees the sea for the first time

tw: none, just fluffy fluffed fluff

canon NON-compliant, slighty ooc

a/n: first time writing for paul and chani, let me know in the tags/comments what you think <3

Paul loved Arrakis, there is no denying that. He fell in love with its hidden dangers, making his heart leap with every uneven step he takes in the sand. He couldn't help but admire its people, how resilient they are, how crafty and smart. Admiration that grew in no time into tender care. He even longed for quiet moments when he wasn't training with Stilgar, attacking the harkonnens, or manuvering between fremen worshippers and non-believers.

Like warching the sun set with Chani. Listen to her speak about her planet with the softest voice he ever heard. Watching the blue dim in her eyes as gold begin to shine in the night. Chani spoke of the dunes, their beauty and her wishes for the desert to come to life again.

And while Paul could only agree, something stirred inside of him. A faint pain in his chest, watching the sand fly in the small evening wind. For a second, it was replaced with waves. High, blue, foaming waves crushing against the shores of his home. Salty water washing the green rocks of Caladan, greeting his palace in the early mornings, their whispers gently waking him up for training.

An unusual yarning took over him and before he could realize it, Paul found himself telling Chani all about the sea and its reign on Caladan.

"I don't believe it." She said, scrunching up her nose against the setting sun.

"I'll show it to you one day." Paul promised. And Chani laughed. She spent a lifetime dreaming about a future for her planet, one that turned into a legend more than a hope. She wouldn't start another faithless dream. She couldn't. Leaving Dune seemed just as impossible for Paul now as it was for her.

And Paul laughed too. But not because he knew how low the chances were he'd keep that promise. In his heart, he knew that as long as he won't lose sight of what's trully important he will see Chani to the seas of Caladan one day.

That day took its sweet time, but it eventually came. After defeating the harkonnens and driving them off Arrakis, Paul appointed Stilgar as leader. He left the planet in its own people's hands, a free Dune, benefiting in the known Universe after its resources, gaining a place along the Great Houses.

Paul Atreides had seen his revenge. Usul Muad'dib has played his part in liberating Arrakis to its bright future. Now, the Duke of Caladan had to sort out his own Court.

It was easier than he thought. Leaving the golden dunes of Arrakis behind, knowing Chani is riding a sand worm somewhere through them. But the promise they made each other ringed inside his chest with every beat of his heart.

"You will never lose me," she said, "as longs as you stay who you are."

"As long as there is breath in me, I will love you," he answered.

They both had duties to tend to. But their love was greater than any distance in the Universe.

"Don't just sit there, young pup," Gurney laughed. Paul named him emmisary for Arrakis and he has just returned... with Chani. In the private area they landed, Gurney allowed himself some casualty with his young Lord, who seemed even younger gaping wide-eyed and in awe upon seeing the woman he loves again.

"Paul!" Chani tackled him in a tight hug. She was happier, more easy-going. He couldn't help but smile to himself faced with this precious, unusual sight, before cupping Chani's face and bringing her in for a kiss.

"I missed you," he whispered in the short reprieves before their lips closed in on eqch other again. And again. And again, until Gurney awkawardly cleared his throat.

"I missed you su much."

"I missed you too, My Lord," she teased, before linking their arms together. "Now, I do remember a promise you made me a while ago. Something about dunes of water."

"Waves. They're called waves."

Paul led her to the shore. The tides were retreating, seaguls flying lazyly above it. The water rustled against pristine rocks, returning to the sea just to be pushed out again, further and further.

Droplets of water landed on Chani's arms, raising goosebumps on her skin. Her eyes rounded at the sight, hands wrapping around her torso against the chilly breeze.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. "Just like you said."

Paul smiled. And gently took her palm in his. "Come on, there's a lot more to do than admiring."

He took off his clothes, leving only his underpants on and urged Chani to do the same. The water was cold, tickling her bare feet, stealing the land from under her.

"Don't be afraid," Paul soothed her, feeling the grip on his arm tightening. "I've got you, okay?"

She never saw so much water in her life, except for the still fountain of the dead. But that was holy. Untouchable. And this sea of Paul... he made it look fun.

They took more steps into the sea, clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it. Slow step by slow step, Chani became more sure on her feet, slightly letting go of Paul to only hold his hand as he drew them closer to the end of the land inside the water.

Chani laughed as a stronger wave crushed against her knees, almost causing her to lose balance.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. That was just weird. In a good way."

Paul laughed too, wondering if he should show her how to swim already or if it was too soon. But Chani trying to move forwards made the decision for him.

"Wait up! You can't walk anymore. Here, let me show you how."

He lowered himself in the water, supporting Chani as she laid on her belly. Paul's hands circled her waist as he gave instructions: "Never stop moving your feet." "One arm at a time, that's it." "Do you want to try back swimming too?"

When they waves grew bigger and stronger, threatening to storm the shores violently, Paul and Chani raced each other back on land. They were dripping, shivering in the cold night air, but their cheeks hurt with wide smiles and where their bodies touched, they burned.

Not so long ago Chani taught him the ways of dunes. Paul was more than happy to show her the ways of the sea.

#paul atreides #chani kynes #chani #paul atreides fanfiction #chani fanfiction #paul × chani #chani × paul #paul atredies × chani #dune #dune 2 #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction #my work #my writing #my words #my fiction #my fic

[godjustkys]

what fandoms do you write for? and for those fandoms, are there any specific characters you won't write for? and is there are a limit on how many characters we can ask about per request? will we get less headcanons if we ask for more characters?

Okay, so let's get the cinematic fandoms out of the way first. Then, we'll move onto anime.

Characters that are highlighted in blue are strictly only fluff fics.

Fandoms I write for;

- Teen Wolf

- MCU

- Supernatural

- The walking dead (AMC)

- Merlin (BBC)

- Dune

- Game of Thrones

- Friends

- Maze runner

- Lord of the Rings

- The Hobbit

- Harry Potter

- Brooklyn Nine-Nine

- IT

- Diary of a wimpy kid

- Dead Poet's Society

- Shameless

- Handsome Devil

- The black phone

- Sweet home

I am open to writing for characters that are from different fandoms that I haven't listed, but it's not necessarily a guarantee that I will present a fanfic for you.

Now,

The characters I will write for;

Teen wolf:

- Stiles Stilinski;

- Scott McCall;

- Derek Hale;

- Allison Argent;

- Lydia Martin;

- Isaac Lahey;

- Jackson Whittemore;

- Peter Hale;

- Malia Tate;

- Kira Yukimura;

- Liam Dunbar;

- Theo Raeken;

- Jordan Parrish;

- Erica Reyes;

- Ethan;

- Aiden;

- Christopher Argent;

- Mason Hewitt;

- Danny;

MCU:

- Tony Stark;

- Peter Parker;

- Bruce Banners;

- Thor Odinson;

- Loki Laufeyson;

- Steve Rogers;

- Natasha Romanoff;

- Stephen Strange;

- Wanda Maximoff;

- Clint Barton;

- Bucky Barnes;

- Carol Denvers;

- Shuri;

- Sam Wilson;

- Okoye;

- Wade Wilson;

- Pietro Maximoff;

- Vision;

- Scott Lang;

- Yelena Belova;

- Peter Quill;

- Gamora;

- Nebula;

- Matt Murdock;

- Xu Shang-chi;

- Eddie Brock;

SUPERNATURAL:

- Dean Winchester;

- Sam Winchester;

- Castiel;

(my knowledge is limited, I'm so sorry.)

THE WALKING DEAD:

- Rick Grimes;

- Carl Grimes;

- Michonne;

- Negan;

- Daryl Dixon;

- Eugene;

- Rosita Espinosa;

- Maggie Greene;

- Glenn Rhee;

- Carol Peletier;

- Andrea;

- Gabriel Stokes;

MERLIN:

- Merlin.

- Arthur Pendragon;

- Morgana Pendragon;

- Guinevere;

- Lancelot;

- Mordred;

- Leon;

- Gwaine;

- Elyan;

- Percival;

- Princess Mithian;

DUNE:

- Paul Atreides;

- Chani;

- Feyd-Rautha;

- Duncan Idaho;

- Leto Atreides;

- Stilgar;

GAME OF THRONES:

- Jon Snow;

- Robb Stark;

- Ned Stark;

- Jaime Lannister;

- Catelyn Stark;

- Cersei Lannister;

- Daenerys Targaryen;

- Jorah Mormont;

- Sansa Stark;

- Arya Stark;

- Theon Greyjoy;

- Joffrey Baratheon;

- Sandor Clegane;

- Tyrion Lannister;

- Samwell Tarly;

- Margaery Tyrell;

- Tywin Lannister;

- Tormund Giantsbane;

- Brienne of Tarth;

- Ramsay Bolton;

- Tommen Baratheon;

- Jaqen H'ghar;

- Grey Worm;

FRIENDS:

- Rachel Green;

- Phoebe Buffay;

- Ross Geller;

- Chandler Bing;

- Monica Geller;

- Joey Tribbiani;

MAZE RUNNER:

- Newt;

- Minho;

- Gally;

- Aris;

- Frypan;

- Janson;

- Thomas;

LORD OF THE RINGS:

- Frodo;

- Samwise;

- Galadriel;

- Aragorn;

- Boromir;

- Faramir;

- Arwen;

- Éowyn;

- Éomer;

- Legolas;

THE HOBBIT:

- Bilbo Baggins

- Thorin Oakenshield;

- Kili;

- Fili;

- Tauriel;

- King Thranduil;

- Elrond;

HARRY POTTER:

- Harry Potter;

- Hermione Granger;

- Ron Weasley;

- Draco Malfoy;

- Severus Snape;

- James Potter;

- Sirius Black;

- Regulus Black;

- Remus Lupin;

- George Weasley;

- Fred Weasley;

- Bill Weasley;

- Luna Lovegood;

- Neville Longbottom;

- Bellatrix Lestrange;

- Cedric Diggory;

- Lucius Malfoy;

- Oliver Wood;

- Seamus Finnigan;

- Dean Thomas;

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE:

- Jake Peralta;

- Amy Santiago;

- Charles Boyle;

- Gina Linetti;

- Ray Holt;

- Rosa Diaz;

- Terry Jeffords;

IT:

- Richie Tozier;

- Eddie Kaspbrak;

- Beverly Marsh;

- Henry Bowers;

- Bill Denbrough;

- Patrick Hockstetter;

- Stanley Uris;

- Ben Hanscom;

- Mike Hanlon;

DIARY OF A WIMPY KID:

- Rodrick Heffley;

DEAD POETS SOCIETY:

- Greg Heffley;

- Neil Perry;

- Todd Anderson;

- Charlie Dalton;

- Knox Overstreet;

- Steven Meeks;

- John Keating;

SHAMELESS:

- Fiona Gallagher;

- Lip Gallagher;

- Ian Gallagher;

- Debbie Gallagher;

- Carl Gallagher;

- Liam Gallagher;

- Jimmy Lishman;

- Karen Jackson;

- Mandy Milkovich;

- Mickey Milkovich;

- Kevin Ball;

- Veronica Fisher;

- Svetlana Yevgenivna;

HANDSOME DEVIL:

- Conor Masters;

- Ned Roche;

- Dan Sherry;

THE BLACK PHONE:

- Finney Blake;

- Robin;

- Vance Hopper;

- Bruce;

- Billy;

- Griffin;

SWEET HOME:

- Cha Hyun-su;

- Lee Eun-hyuk;

- Pyeon Sang-wook;

- Jung Jae-heon;

- Seo Yi-kyung;

- Lee Eun-yu;

- Yoon Ji-su;

- Jung Ui-Myeong;

ANIME FANDOMS THAT I WRITE FOR;

- One Piece;

- Naruto;

- SK8 the infinity;

- Tokyo Revengers;

- Attack on Titan;

- Black Butler;

- One Punch Man;

- Hunter x Hunter;

- Demon Slayer;

- Jujutsu Kaisen;

- My Hero academia;

ONE PIECE:

- Monkey D. Luffy;

- Roronoa Zoro;

- Vinsmoke Sanji;

- Nico Robin;

- Nami;

- Usopp;

- Chopper;

- Franky;

- Brook;

- Shanks;

- Mihawk;

- Trafalgar Law;

- Eustass Kid;

- Rob Lucci;

NARUTO:

- Naruto Uzumaki;

- Sasuke Uchiha;

- Sakura Haruno;

- Itachi Uchiha;

- Kakashi Hatake;

- Tsunade;

- Obito Uchiha;

- Madara Uchiha;

- Hinata Hyuga;

- Shikamaru Nara;

- Ino Yamanaka;

- Rock Lee;

- Neji Hyuga;

- Gaara;

- Temari;

- Haku;

- Konan;

- Deidara;

- Sasori;

- Pain;

- Minato Namikaze;

- Kushina;

- Sai;

- Yamato;

SK8 THE INFINITY:

- Reki Kyan;

- Langa Hasegawa;

- Tadashi Kikuchi;

- Miya Chinen;

- Kaoru Sakurayashiki;

- Kojiro Nanjo;

- Ainosuke Shindo;

- Shokichi Oka;

TOKYO REVENGERS:

- Takemichi Hanagaki;

- Manjiro "Mikey" Sano;

- Izana Kurokawa;

- Haruchiyo Sanzu;

- Shinichiro Sano;

- Ken "Draken" Ryuguji;

- Naoto Tachibana;

- Chifuyu Matsuno;

- Keisuke Baji;

- Emma Sano;

- Hinata Tachibana;

- Nahoya "Smiley" Kawata;

- Souya "Angry" Kawata;

- Kazutora Hanemiya;

- Takashi Mitsuya;

- Tetta Kisaki;

- Shuji Hanma;

ATTACK ON TITAN:

- Eren Yeager;

- Mikasa Ackerman;

- Armin Arlert;

- Jean Kirstein;

- Connie Springer;

- Sasha Braus;

- Levi Ackerman;

- Hange Zoë;

- Erwin Smith;

- Annie Leonhart;

- Reiner Braun;

- Bertholdt Hoover;

- Zeke Yeager;

- Kenny Ackerman;

BLACK BUTLER:

- Sebastian Michaelis;

- Ciel Phantomhive;

- Grell Sutcliff;

- Undertaker;

- Ronald Knox;

- Alois Trancy;

- Claude Faustus;

ONE PUNCH MAN:

- Saitama;

- Genos;

- Fubuki;

- Tatsumaki;

- Kamikaze (Atomic Samurai);

- Zombieman;

- Metal Bat;

- Child Emperor;

HUNTER X HUNTER:

- Gon Freecs;

- Killua Zoldyck;

- Kurapika;

- Leorio;

- Hisoka;

- Illumi Zoldyck;

- Chrollo Lucifer;

- Feitan;

- Kalluto Zoldyck;

- Alluka Zoldyck;

- Shalnark;

- Pakunoda;

- Kite;

- Wing;

- Phinks;

- Machi;

- Nobunaga;

DEMON SLAYER:

- Tanjiro Kamado;

- Nezuko Kamado;

- Zenitsu Agatsuma;

- Inosuke Hashibira;

- Kanao Tsuyuri;

- Genya Shinazugawa;

- Giyuu Tomioka;

- Shinobu Kocho;

- Rengoku Kyojuro;

- Gyomei Himejima;

- Sanemi Shinazugawa;

- Mitsuri Kanroji;

- Iguro Obanai;

- Muichiro Tokito;

- Akaza;

- Douma;

- Muzan Kibutsuji;

JUJUTSU KAISEN:

- Itadori Yuuji;

- Megumi Fushiguro;

- Gojo Satoru;

- Geto Suguru;

- Nobara Kugisaki;

- Maki Zen'in;

- Toge Inumaki;

- Yuta Okkotsu;

- Kento Nanami;

- Aoi Todo;

- Mai Zen'in;

- Noritoshi Kamo;

MY HERO ACADEMIA:

- Izuku Midoriya;

- Katsuki Bakugou;

- Eijiro Kirishima;

- Kaminari Denki;

- Sero Hanta;

- Tenya Iida;

- Ochako Uraraka;

- Mina Ashido;

- Jirou Kyoka;

- Mashirao Ojiro;

- Shoto Todoroki;

- Momo Yaoyorozu;

- Monoma Neito;

- Shinsou Hitoshi;

- Tamaki Amajiki;

- Keigo Takami;

- All Might;

- Aizawa Shouta;

- Ken Tagaki;

- Tomura Shigaraki;

- Touya Todoroki;

- Himiko Toga;

- Mr. Compress;

- Overhaul;

Finally. I'm done. (This took almost 2 hours bro.)

No, there is no limit to the amount of characters you request (for headcanons). However, it might take longer than usual.

And no, you will not get less headcanons if there are more characters :3

#request #reqs open #fanfiction #fanfic #fandoms #movies #marvel #anime #male reader #dom male reader #top male reader

[salt-is-a-terrible-currency]

Alive

*Contains spoilers for the first book*

Fandom: Dune

Pairing: Gurney Halleck x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, 18 +

Words: 4 298

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Threats of Violence, Smut, Spit Kink

Tagging: @brightlycoloredteacups @captainpoopweinersoldier @rnlaing @placeinthemiddleofnowhere @you-fxcking-wish-bish @daddysofmyuniverse

Excerpt

The sietch is alive with motion and noise as several people prepare for the return of their loved ones that went out with Paul and Stilgar. There’ll likely be a gathering in the great hall where the two men make some announcement regarding some of the younger Fremens’ whispers that Paul should challenge the sietch leader and take over completely. It doesn’t concern you. You’re sick of the politics, have been for a long time, and know that regardless of who rules - Stil or ‘the Muad’Dib’ - you have your place with the Reverend Mother and Harah. One of the Fedaykin stands guard outside, sparing you only a glance before returning to stare straight ahead while you head inside.

Finish on AO3

#gurney halleck fic #gurney halleck x f!reader #dune fic

[sugarplumfuckwit]

Gurney: Hey, boys. Did you miss me?

Chani:Anyone ever tell you what an asshole you look like? You're a complete fucking flop, bud.

Stilgar:Pull your finger out of your ass, you fucking pipe fitter.

Shishakli:I'd rather be watching a hobo jerk off.

Stilgar:I think we'd be lucky to be watching a hobo jerk off right now.

Chani: I'd rather be watching a paper cut in slow-mo.

Stilgar: I'd rather be watching a ten-man Lemon Party on an IMAX movie screen.

Shishakli: Don't let Grammy Google that one.You know what, you'd be my Grammy's soulmate, cupcake.

Stilgar: You're bum-fluff, bud.

Chani: Sing us a song or something. Do a trick. You're fuckin' useless.

Shishakli:What's your laundry-folding channel, hun?

Stilgar:I bet you know exactly how many days it is until Christmas, don't you, bud?

Chani:Wait!

Gurney: What?

Chani: Go fuck yourself,you silly fucking butt-crusty.

Stilgar:You're a Danish in a donut shop. You're a cup of baby carrots, you fucking asshole.

Shishakli: I don't even know what your name is, bud.

#dune 2024 #incorrect dune quotes #letterkenny

[firelilyfox]

Taking Advantage

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: fluff / angst / hurt reader / teasing

Words: 1.3k

you came home from battle injured & Paul wants to make sure you are alright

_____________________________

„That was awesome!“ 

The Fremen men and women were cheering in agreement as your group coming back to Sietch Tabr with the sunrise early in the morning. Every step you take, sends little painful impulses through your muscles. The whole night you were fighting against a Spice harvesting ship that belonged to the Harkonnen and although you made a bunch of them pay for their brutal regiment, you came back badly bruised. But you are doing your best to hide the pain your in in front of your friends. It would be even more embarrassing to see their faces covered in pity over you, when the mood is as good as it is right now. The Fremen had another win and kicked some Harkonnen asses. That’s all that counts right now. 

„I’m a little drained. Go on and have a drink for me, while I’ll be having a good rest“, you said to your best friend Chani, who is giving you a suspicious look but then nodded. 

„You did good today, y/n. And I know for a fact, that Muad’Dib is thinking the same“, she wiggled with her eyebrows, mocking you again. Your eyes darted to the back of the tent, where Paul was sitting with Stilgar. He was already looking at you, not breaking the eye contact once yours met his. Paul was frowning a little, wich made his worried expression even more noticeable. Maybe Stilgar was telling him some bad news or something. You didn’t really care, because all you could think about was the pain that was feeling like needles beneath your skin. 

„I don’t care what he thinks. He fought well. And everything else is not important“, you murmured shrugging your hurting shoulders. Big mistake. Your almost flinched because of the pain that was send trough your body again. 

You quickly waved Chani goodbye and make your way outside the big community room, back to your private stone cabin, that was placed further away. When you finally reached it, a sigh of relief escaped your throat. Carefully you sit down on the bed out of soft fabric and you close your eyes for a second to calm your thoughts. Today was hard and nothing sounds more tempting than getting this suit off and washing the dirt off of your irritated skin. But the thought that you have to move yourself to make that happen, was like your personal nightmare. 

The sound of someone clearing his throat hollowed back from the stonewalls of your room. You quickly turn your head around to catch Paul standing in the doorframe, holding the curtain open. He looks even more worried now than back downstairs. 

„Can I come in?“, he asked. 

You let out a annoyed sigh. „Sure. What is it, Paul?“ 

He makes his way up to you, stopping not even two feet away from the bed you were still sitting on. „Are you alright?“ 

„Obviously. Today was a big win.“ 

He frowned again. „That’s not what I meant.“ 

„Then what are you talking about? Speak up.“ Your tone was annoyed, because the last thing you wanted right now was him seeing you in this pathetic state. 

„You fought like a demon out there. I have never seen someone so … so passionately killing the bad guys. But … I saw you falling down that cliff. For a second I thought you were dead“, he swallowed hard. „I saw you getting hurt. You must be in enormous pain right now.“ 

The fact that he had an eye on you while being on the battlefield, surrounded by enemies, made your chest tightened up. He was really looking out for me? 

You tried to sound unimpressed. „Well, thank you for your concern but I’m perfectly fine as you can see.“ You stood up and wanted to make him leave your room, but the sharp pain came back like a lighting bolt and you tripped over your own feet. Paul had quick reflexes and catching you before you could hit the ground. „I’m fine“, your voice cracks and burning shame blushed your cheeks. 

„No you are not fine, y/n. You need help“, Paul whispered. His arms still wrapped around your waist to hold you up. His eyes right in front of you. So blue you could probably drown in them … although there were little brown spots you never noticed before. 

You swallowed. „I don’t need …“ 

„Oh for fucks sake! Shut up and let me help you“, he demanded. You were so surprised about his little outburst, that you could only nod to give him the permission. 

Paul smiled slightly. „Good. You are so stubborn.“ 

You rolled your eyes on him, not saying anything. He was right, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of you agreeing with him. 

With his help, you turned your back to him. He begins to get rid of the many closures of the suit and with every unbuttoning your face feels even warmer. His direct presence was making you nervous and you were not sure how you feel about that effect he has on you. 

„You need to relax. Otherwise I could hurt you even more“, his voice was low and for a second you thought you heard a light crack in it. Is it possible that you have the same effect on him? 

„It is kinda hard to relax in this … situation“, the words slipped out before you could think about the meaning of them. You bite your tongue as he chuckled softly. 

„And why is that?“, you could feel his warm breath on your neck. It sends goosebumps over your drained body. Before you could give him a sassy answer, his fingertips touched the bare skin on your shoulders, gently pulling down the suit. You could feel his hands on your back while Paul was making sure that you didn’t need to move a muscle to get rid of the Fremen desert suit. Underneath you are wearing an thin layer of fabric, cut in the form of a dress that barely covers your butt. 

„Are you taking advantage of an helpless and wounded woman, Paul Atreides?“, you say with a strangled voice. Still facing the wall. But Paul was so close, that you could feel his chest touching your back. 

Paul gently strokes your hair over one shoulder. His lips almost touching your ear, while he speaks with a breathy voice. „I would never take advantage of you. I know for a fact, that you could kick my ass and slit my throat in no time, even wounded and blinded. But you haven’t done such thing.“ 

He places a soft kiss on the sensitive skin right beneath your ear and your breathing stops. Your whole body reacting to him like a firework. Just because of a litte stupid kiss. What is happening? 

„Did I hurt you?“, he asked as he noticed your reaction. „If you want me to stop, you just have to say one word and I’m …“ 

„You didn’t hurt me“, you interrupted. 

Paul chuckles softly. And you almost hoped, that he would keep on doing where he stopped, but instead you feel how his warm body disappeared from your back. As you peak over your shoulder, he looks at you with deep satisfaction. 

„I’ll see if I can get you something to eat and drink. And then I will send you a healer to make sure you’ll get better in no time.“ 

Your mouth snapped open in disbelief. This jerk just teased you like a champion and now he was looking at you like a little boy, who is more than proud to make fun of you. 

„You’re an asshole, Paul Atreides“, you said smiling. 

He raises his hands defensively. „I’m just making sure not to take advantage of you.“ 

#dune movie #dune part one #dune part two #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides #paul atreides x you #comforting #dune fluff #fluff #paul atreides fluff #paul atreides imagine #paul atreides kissing #paul atreides fanfic #light angst #dune angst #paul muad'dib #timothée chalamet #Paul atreides angst #teasing

[lieutenantfloyd]

Narrow Honor | Gurney Halleck x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Following the fall of the Imperium to the Fremen, House Atriedes hosts a dinner party for the remaining Great Houses. where Paul Atriedes informed them of his future plans. After the Reverend Mothers airs a number of personal and political grievances, You—a skilled Bene Gesserit and leader of the Fedaykin fighters—come to the defense of your marriage to Warmaster Gurney Halleck.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, arranged marriage, religion, heavy references of religion and use of scripture (Orange Catholic! Reader), canon divergence, the Bene Gesserit are terrible but Gurney plays the Baliset and makes everything ok.

Authors Note: This is very self indulgent, and can be read as x Reader or with an OC in mind.

Read on AO3

Paul Maud’dib sits solemnly at the head of the large stone table. The space around him is populated by the most important figures of the known universe.

Reverend Mother Jessica and the former Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV are seated on either side of the Lisan al Gaib. Princess irulan stands next to him, and flush with the wall behind them stands Chani. It took some convincing to get her here, but you’re most grateful that she’s in attendance.

To the left of Jessica is Stilgar, followed by the Fenring Reverend Mother, Lady Fenring herself, and two representatives from the Great Houses. Past Shaddam on Paul’s right sits House Corrino’s Reverend Mother, followed by four more representatives from the other Great Houses. You sit in the final chair, heading the table along with Paul, while Gurney stands doggedly behind your left shoulder.

Tensions are at an all time high, yet Paul looks as head strong as ever. Given your storied friendship and allegiance, his apparent security brings you ease.

A servant makes rounds and fills everyone's glasses with their choice of wine and water. The guests find relief from the dry, agitated air of Arrakis while each Fremen and member of House Atriedes in attendance leaves their own glasses untouched. While you know the liquids to be pure, they might as well be poisoned. you cringe at the blatant gluttony and wastefulness of it all. From across the room, you spot Paul sporting a similar look of disgust. Though his is almost immediately silenced in favor of a neutral but commanding stare. Your eyes then fall to Jessica, who signals to you both in hand speak.

A necessary sacrifice. 

You sit calm and quiet as the future of the now-fallen Imperium is laid out in exact terms. You've both attended and led plenty of meetings similar to this in the past months, but know that you are attending this one as more of a formality than anything. Despite the topic of conversation being impossibly heavy, you now feel a strange weightlessness after waging war against your Harkonnen oppressors for so long. 

Time advances unmonitored. Though your thoughts have been elsewhere, your senses have remained on alert. Sapped power, burst egos, and foiled plans are far too high in number around the table for you to ever feel comfortable.

Suddenly the sound of your name leaving Paul’s mouth finds your ears, and you perk up. 

“-their sacrifices have been crucial to our cause, and as such I will personally see that they both retain their respective titles of Fedaykin leader and House Atriedes Warmaster.” 

Angered murmurs break out amongst the table, but no one offers a formal rejection.

As Paul gives his closing statement, Gurney’s palm meets your shoulder and you place your own atop the dorsal side of his hand. Your subtle display of affection goes entirely unnoticed, but a silent affirmation passes between you. Equals in battle and in marriage.

The formal aspect of the dinner now over, the guests stand and begin mingling—albeit uncomfortably—amongst each other.

Again you hear the Corrino and Fenring Reverend Mothers speaking. Only this time they offer biting criticism not only of the situation at hand, but of your marriage—a marriage that they had a large hand in arranging. The things directed at yourself breeze past you, but you will allow none of their bitterness to be directed towards your Warmaster.

“-would have never allowed this shameful union to go forth if we had foreseen such an outcome. How terrible it is to see a talented yet difficult woman forced alongside such a brutal, ugly man…”

With a shattered heart, you feel Gurney’s stalwart hand leave you as he recoils at their hatred. Each and every forgotten doubt and insecurity about your arrangement suddenly comes flooding back to him. At the same time, you're assaulted by memories of countless cruel words shouted at you by members of the Sisterhood during your many years of training.

Jessica—your friend to the point of kinship—signs to you once more. Times have changed. Outside of us, the Sisterhood holds no power here.

Knowing her words to be true, you push your chair backward and stand in firm defiance of them. 

"SIT DOWN!" you command in Bene Gesserit tongue.  

Your ears are immediately allowed to savor the dull thud of bodies colliding with chairs. Paul dismisses Gurney and Stilgar in anticipation of your actions, knowing full well how their temper and affection will bring nothing but harm.

you don’t move a muscle as they leave. Though just as anticipated, you sense Gurney lingering just beyond the door.

Always a worrier, that one.

A glimmer of thought flashes behind your eyes then. A well trained Bene Gesserit wife should silence herself when in the company of both her husband and others. As quickly as the thought appears, your mind stamps it out. You know deeply how your talents greatly shadow your desire to comply.

Slamming your hands flat against the table, you capture what remaining attention isn't upon you and you hesitate none to unleash your displeasure.

"How dare you speak of your husband in this manner! Each of us sat lounging around this table knows perfectly well the nature of what he has done, achieved, and survived. There is not one individual amongst the Fremen or House Atriedes who will say that Gurney is an unrighteous or dishonorable man! And who knows the true nature of a man better than his own wife? How shameful of you to say that our marriage is anything short of suitable and well-anointed!"

your voice carries clear into the hall, and you sense only prideful satisfaction from your beloved standing in wait outside the door.

"Your flagrant talk has made clear where your allegiances lie. While we Fremen will do nothing of harm to you, we will also provide you no assistance in whatever lies ahead."

You inhale a sharpened breath. Paul offers a nod of endorsement without hesitation. An angry grin burns across your face.

"I hope your travels home are pleasant, seeing as you are no longer welcome here on Arrakis."

You turn on your heel without giving them the slightest chance to respond. your thoughts are focused solely on your desire to be away from everything. The fabric of your skirts flits behind you as your crysknife’s sand colored sheath glints against the sunlight.

"May shame befall each of you." you curse as you stride out of the room.

No one—not even Jessica or Chani—attempts to follow you. A fact of which you are thankful for.

Your footing is sure as you enter the hallway. The door closes behind you and you’re only a mere few feet past it before your arm is captured. If it were anyone else, your knife would have long since been buried in their flesh. Yet you know his touch as intimately as you know anything, and you willingly let yourself be pulled away.

You are content as he weaves his way through the halls and into your shared quarters.

Once the door is shut, you start to rid yourself of your armor and ceremonial clothing.

As you unpin your head-covering, you give quiet thanks for your strength along with the peace you are granted by Your Warmasters' safe return. You take the time to savor the slight weight of the Orange Catholic Bible you keep beneath your chest plate—a habit you formed after the Harkonnen’s and Sardaukar’s joint attack that led to Gurney’s apparent death.  Your mind floats easily to the scriptures. A renewed comfort filling you as you recite Psalm 29:11 under your breath. The Lord will give strength unto his people; the Lord will bless his people with peace.

After dressing yourself in soft and informal clothing, you pad your way over to Gurney and join him in sitting on your bed.

He’s discarded his shoes but remains in his earlier outfit. You’d usually scold him for dirtying the smooth, pale bed linens with his day clothes, but you decide against it after the mentally tiring events of today.

You settle less than an arm's length away from him and sit with crossed legs before you begin to loosen a small, knotted braid that lie buried amongst your tangled curls.

“May I request a song, beloved?”

He obliges you, and you hum softly along to the tune he plucks on his baliset.

So much uncertainty lies outside your door, and we both know that there is much to talk about. Nonetheless, you the heavy topics minimal thought. Both of you are in agreement that these quiet moments of domesticity are too far and few between to not be seized.

As his song comes to an end, you close the gap between us and make your feelings for him known—the same feelings that drive you to defend him so fiercely. The kiss you share is soft, and you’re satisfied with the content grumble that rolls through his chest.

A sudden jolt of laughter grows inside you. Unable to contain it, you pull away from his lips. He feigns offense at your departure before gruffly prompting you to explain.

“When the Bene Gesserit first declared our arrangement, they had hoped you’d give you a life of hardship. Given your frightening reputation, It made simple sense. But, knowing what you know now, you can’t help but find humor in how wrong their assessment was.”

“You don’t see your reputation as earned?” he interjects teasingly, and you send him a playful but sharp look in response.

“If only you’d seen their faces when I spoke out of turn…” you say.

Something in the air shifts, and his brow creases with earnest. A few beats of silence pass.

“I know their faces because I’ve seen the looks you earn. This was just the first time you’ve noticed.”

You soften instantly at his words. Gurney is not a man for flattery, and your training affirms that he only speaks truth.

“Stop being so… modest. You’ve well earned your praise.” He continues, taking note of your silence.

A sudden heat rises to your cheeks. He watches you for a few moments before shaking his head solemnly.

"All that you, Jessica, and the boy went through after the attacks… What you yourself have achieved…” he mumbles, shaking his head again.

“That lies behind us, and we must now look forward,” you say, bringing a hand to his face and running your thumb absentmindedly along the deep scar of his cheek.

You meant nothing but comfort, but his eyes quickly grow dark with concern. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know exactly what clouds his mind.

The future. It worries me.

Taking this as a cue, you give him a soft yet reassuring smile before changing the subject entirely.

“Seeing as we missed out on dinner, would you be a dear and go collect our portions?” you say while shifting to lie down flatly on our bed.

"Are you asking me to steal, my lady?”

You turn your head towards him.

“It’s not stealing if it’s already intended for you,” you say mirroring his playful stare with your tone.

“Hmm, is that so?” he grunts, “and how would that defense hold up against the Council?” he finishes with an added air of challenge.

While forming a response you notice that Gurney is already slipping into his shoes.

“Given that the council is presumably dissolved under Paul’s leadership, we’ll just have to wait and find out.” you counter.

He clicks his tongue, though not disapprovingly.

“Always one step ahead, aren’t you?”

“As is the Bene Gesserit way,” you reply, smiling.

You may be a hawkish and unwanted member of the Sisterhood, but that doesn’t mean you despise them in return. Their teachings have undoubtedly saved your life on more occasions than you care to count. They also—albeit accidentally—blessed you with a Great House that cares for you and a wonderful man made of humor, wit, and strength. While you and the Bene Gesserit may never see eye to eye, those two simple facts are more than enough to earn them a narrow piece of your honor.

#dune #gurney halleck #gurney halleck x reader #gurney x reader #dune x reader #dune fanfiction #dune part 2 #dune part two #dune 2024

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

*Please heed warnings at the beginning of each fic*

Key- 🕸smut, 🥀angst, 🖤fluff, 🔪dark, 🦇A/B/O, S (series), MS (mini series), R (requests)

⋆∘₊Halsin⋆∘₊

Let Me Be Your Bear🖤

An accident involving a fiery touch and your beloved stuffed teddy leads you to something wonderful. Any reader

⋆∘₊Naib Stilgar⋆∘₊

Oasis🥀

When the sand is still and the sun has set, you reflect on what has become of your life but there is someone unexpected who wishes to show you how valued you truly are. Female reader

⋆∘₊Gale Dekarios⋆∘₊

Home By The Sea🖤R

He’s found his home, he’s found his person and now, Gale has finally found his peace. Female reader

⋆∘₊Ransom Drysdale⋆∘₊

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Hot🕸

What do you do when you learn that your asshole boyfriend has been cheating on you your entire relationship? You become his step-mom. Female reader

⋆∘₊Thomas Shelby⋆∘₊

No Is All🥀

No is a full sentence and maybe you need someone to remind you of that. Female reader

⋆∘₊Leonard McCoy⋆∘₊

Dilemma of Love🥀🖤

A sweet new engineer captures the affections of the Enterprise’s CMO but she’s holding onto a big secret, the Captain is her big brother and he doesn’t want her dating anyone. Female reader

⋆∘₊Will Turner⋆∘₊

A Pirate’s Life for Me🥀

The story of Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann’s love is a brilliant one, but there is a part that is often forgotten. The girl that saved Elizabeth’s life, the girl that died on a hill of gold, the girl that burned for Will. She never got her happy ending. Female reader

⋆∘₊Sherlock Holmes⋆∘₊

A Lesson In Perseverance🕸

The day has come where Sherlock finally takes you, even if he is far too big. Female reader

What Happens After Death🖤

Sherlock comes home after faking his death and finds an extra person in his house, but they aren’t entirely unwelcome. Female reader

#other masterlist