#paul atredies imagine

[loverangels]

TIMOTHEE C

laurie laurence

paul atreides

lee (bones and all)

elio perlman

hal (the king)

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹═══��══════════

[firelilyfox]

Deadly Eyes

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort

If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate

Words: 1k

_______________________________

You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 

Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 

„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 

A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 

You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 

Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 

„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 

„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 

The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 

„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 

A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 

„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 

„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 

„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 

You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 

For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 

Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 

The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 

„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 

„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 

„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 

Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 

„And you did.“ 

He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 

„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 

_____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3

[nervoushottee]

With Want | Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader

Summary: Paul Atreides always had dreams. But from the very beginning, there was an invisible string pulling him to you.

Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Reader's secret name is Nuri, Set in Dune Part 2 , fingering, soulmate/destined pairing, shitty understanding of the Dune universe (only watched the first Dune move and only half of Dune part 2 whoopsie so I'm probably butchering some of the lore or whatever. Its fanfiction babes, I'm not writing this for accuracy),

Note: Hey hottees!! Y'all I'm not even finish watching Dune 2 and I started writing this. Timothee was doing something to me in this movieeee. Hope y'all enjoy!

*not edited at all babes*

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Paul Atreides had dreams. Both enchanting and horrifying dreams that would eat away at his mind and soul. And from the very beginning, he had always felt this small pull of a feeling. 

It was weirder than his dreams because even when he woke, he still felt it. Like it was a small tether, a light string in his heart and soul that hummed so softly. A light that was so dim that you would have to squint to see. 

After everything that happened with his father and being forced out of his home. The Fremen people found him and his mother. And that feeling grew stronger. He thought it was about the sayings of what his mother, the Bene Gesserit, would tell him but it felt more than that. 

It was odd, he could never see what it was in his dreams, or hear whispers of it like a name. But it was always that same enchanting feeling. So when Paul followed the Fremens, it continued to grow. By the time they walked deeper into the caves, it went from a strong pull to an overwhelming presence. 

And that’s when he saw you. 

“Who is she?” Paul asks Chani. The young woman already knew who Paul was asking for before she turned her head. A small smile engulfs on her face. “Nuri.”

Nuri.

Paul repeats your name to understand the feeling on his tongue. He hadn’t seen you before. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t too sure. The Fremen people covered their faces from the desert and a lot from what he was learning.

‘She moves like the wind.’ Paul says to himself as he watches you glide through the crowded room. Paul’s eyes meet yours briefly. Yours blue from your sclera to your irises. You stop moving through the crowd to stare at him. 

That feeling buzzed around him, stronger than ever within Paul as his eyes never leaving  yours. Your lips slowly turn up into a smile. Your eyes move towards Chani who still stands next to him, nodding in acknowledgement. Chani repeats the same gesture with a smile on her face, your gaze lingers back on Paul before a group of people walk in front of Paul’s view of you. By the time the people separate. You were gone. And the feeling suddenly fades from a sharp intensity to a dull buzz. 

“You should be careful around her Outworlder.” Chani says to him in a low tone as the common area starts to get a bit busy with people. The two of them sit down on a blanket as other where for food. 

“Was she with the group when you found me and my mother?” Paul asks, dodging the statement his acquaintance gave him. 

Chani shakes her head, chewing her food before speaking, “No. She doesn’t come with us all the time.���That intrigued Paul. He turns himself fully towards Chani, his bowl of food mixed with spice long forgotten . “So is she not a fighter?” 

“She is.” Chani says between chews, ”But she also walks with the Sayyadina.”

The Sayyadina. The Fremen’s Reverend Mother. 

“From what I’ve been told, her family was killed just after she was born. Stilgar took it upon himself to look after her. As she grew, the Sayyadina felt something within her. So Stilgar gave them the authority to let her walk with them. She is truly a great fighter, so when we need good fighters she will come with us when necessary. If not, she stays.” Chani continues. 

“A fighter and one that walks with the Sayyadina? Is that possible?” Paul questions. 

“To a nonbeliever? No. But to those who do? Yes. Stilgar believes in the old ways and in the faith. The Lisan al Gaib.” She says to him in a taunting tone which causes Paul to avert his eyes. The moment they came in, some shouted hatred towards him and his mother but others screamed in rejoice, calling him The Lisan al Gaib.

“Our people follow behind him, he is a good leader and his judgment is almost always right and trustworthy.” Chani finishes. 

Paul sits with the information he tells her, his hands slowly dipping in his bowl to start eating the food that was cold to touch but warm against his tongue. The heat of the spice warms his insides as it goes down his throat. “And what about you? What do you believe?”

”I don’t believe that you’re the Lisan al Gaib, that's for sure.” She chuckles. Paul feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but urges her to continue. “I believe in our people. And she is a part of our people. And if she plays some part in whatever faith stories then so be it. But she has never faltered in training. She has never failed in the dessert and she is a good friend. She believes in our people as much as I do.”

After the words Chani said, Paul felt that she was over talking about you, more hungry and interested in the spice beneath her fingers. So Paul didn’t ask anymore. He ate his food in silence but his mind was racing with the thoughts of you. 

—— —— —— ——

The day had turned into night. Stilgar showed him and his mother the small room for them to sleep in for the time being until their fate was decided. A lot of them didn’t trust him and his mother, and for that Paul understood. 

His dreams woke him in the late night. Lifting his head from the makeshift pillow, he looks over to his mother who is still sound asleep. Her hand was placed on her lower stomach. 

‘Rest easy sister, I will be back.’ He says in his head before getting up and quietly leaving the room.

The caves are quiet at night. Besides from the guards that linger within the open spaces to protect those who rest. Paul doesn’t think it’s necessary but he avoids walking around where they are. Just in case to not stir any trouble. The people were calm at the moment since their fates were going to be decided soon enough. 

He walks to the small body of water his mother had told him about. The scared waters of the Fremens. The waters they would never touch. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the stilllness in the air and the calm look of the water. It reminded him of home. “I miss you father. I will take care of mother and sister.” He says to himself quietly. 

He wants to cry but reminds himself to save his water. “Don’t waste your tears on the dead” from what Stilgar told his mother. 

Paul sat still for a moment longer before he felt that pull again. That invisible string strong and tight as it pulls him to his feet. He absentmindedly walks into a dimly let hallway, his pulse quickening against his neck. His heat beating erratically against his chest as he turns the corner to see you. “You’re Nuri.” Paul states.

“You shouldn’t be out at night Paul Atriedes.” You say to him, your back towards him but he can hear the teasing smile within your words.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Paul explains to you simply, “And I made sure to walk where the guards can not see me.” The feeling nearly suffocates him as he walks toward you. 

“Ah.” You turn towards him, you’re dressed in almost the same comfortable linens as him. His a tan brown color and yours an off white. “You and your dreams.”

How did you know about that? He questions in his head, unconsciously taking another step towards you. You both now at arms length.

“I see you in my dreams.” Paul lies. 

“Do you?” You ask back, your tone sounds as if you know he’s lying. 

“No but I can feel you. In my dreams and out. And I don’t know what it is or what it means.” He explains. 

You hum in satisfaction as you slowly walk around him. Like a beast or a predator trapping its prey. “And what do you feel now?” 

He feels like his body is vibrating, His skin tingling and his veins jumping. His fingers buzzing as if he wants to reach out and touch you. He does what to touch you, he wants to feel your skin on his. “What do you feel?” Paul asks the question back to you.

You stop walking to stand behind him. The hairs on his neck stick out as he feels your body heat near him. Your lips slowly grazing his ear making his eyes flutter close. 

What the hell is happening to him?

“I feel like the spice on my tongue. I feel like the sand beneath my feet. I feel like the beauty you see in your dreams. I can feel you.” You whisper against him. 

Paul turns around to you, your bodies closer than ever. His lips inches towards yours as his flickers between your eyes and your lips. 

“You speak in tongues.” Paul whispers to you desperately.

“Shall I tell you in a way you understand?” You whisper against his lips. 

“Yes please.” he begs softly. 

And you don’t hesitate to put your lips on his. Paul moving quickly as his hands clasp softly against your cheeks. Moaning in the delight as he feels your hands glide against his chest, gripping his shirt. 

He feels you everywhere, but it isn’t overwhelming anymore. Now that he’s holding you and tasting you, your tongue glides against his. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him as his body and soul settle into the feeling of you. 

So warm and inviting. So enticing and serene. 

You push him towards a dark hidden spot in the hallway. Your bodies are engulfed in darkness but when you break apart for air, you can see him all the same. Paul moves you toward the wall, his body trapping you in as he kisses your neck. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Paul Atreides. I’ve seen you in my dreams, felt you lingering in my mind, heart and soul.” You say to him breathly. Moaning quietly as you feel his tongue glide against your neck. Your guide his hand to touch your breast, causing Paul to move away from your neck and look into your eyes. 

‘So beautiful.’ Paul thought. He brings his other hand on your cheek and kisses you hungrily. Squeezing your breast, feeling the weight of it in the palm of his hand.His hand glides to let your nipple slip in between his fingers as he squeezes.“I want to dream of you. I want to see you in my dreams, want to hear your voice call my name.” he mutters to you in between kisses.

When you break away from his kiss, Paul starts to ask what’s wrong until he feels your hand on his and glides it up to your lips. You kiss his fingers individually as he stares at you in adoration and desire. You slowly slip his middle and ring finger into your mouth causing Paul to groan. His hips shifting upwards against you as he feels the wetness of your warm tongue glide against his fingers. He watches as you pull his fingers out of your mouth, his digits glistening wet. Your hands glide his now wet ones down and underneath your linen pants.

“Touch me and you will see me.” 

He lets his hand glide against you as is greeted by your wetness, causing you both to moan out in pleasure. You are sinking deeper into the wall and Paul sinking deeper into you. His fingers continue to glide there experimentally as you pull him back for a kiss. “Help me see.” Paul mutters desperately against you

. 

Your hands reach down in your lines to move his hand into the position you need for him to make you feel good. You mimic a small circular rotation with your fingers on the back of his hand that was still against you. Once Paul understands, he begins to move his fingers in the motion you instructed, making you moan against his lips. 

He pulls away to watch you. You looked more ethereal than any other being or spirit that was believed in all of Arrakis. Your head back against the mountain wall, your lips slightly open as you moan. Your hips moving against his fingers as if you’re chasing for pressure. Paul dips his head in the corner of your neck and kisses it feverishly as he applies more pressure in his movements. Causing you to hold on to shoulder and call out his name. Oh how he wanted you to say his name again.

Feeling a little confident he glides his fingers down, but keeps his them pressed against your swollen bud. He pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to gasp. You hold onto his shoulder gripping his shirt as you breathe heavily. You drag his head from your neck to kiss him. With his finger going in and out of you at an agonizing slow pace, you kiss him sloppily. But Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he enjoys it. Humming against you with a smile. 

When you feel his ring finger follow in for a second is when you lose it. “Paul!” you say loudly. 

His tongue mingles with yours as he silences your cries. With the slow circling of his thumb against your clit and the way he pushes his fingers into you makes you clench against him. “Fuck.” he moans. 

You whine as you feel your orgasm growing inside of you. The feeling you both shared with one another makes you feel even more on edge as you grip Paul in anyway you can. You rapidly as you feel yourself getting close. “Pau-Paul -” you begin to tell him as such but the building pleasure doesn’t get you far. Paul places his other hand against your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed. You feel his thumb brush against your bottom lip. 

“Let me see you.” 

His words are the final push that sends you over the edge. Paul kissing you to silence your cries, you mewling against his lips as his fingers never stop their learned rhythm. You shiver against his fingers, your body tingly and warm. He kisses your face from your cheeks, to your eyelids and everywhere in between as he waits for you to come down from your high. He whispers your name, making you flutter your eyes open to see Paul stare at you with want. 

“Show me again.”

[feirceangel]

Okay so you’ve written protective/possessive Feyd—what about protective Paul seeing his wife badly hurt or narrowly escaping an attack? I live for the “who did this to you” trope, got me weak at the knees 🥹

I sorta missed the whole wife part, whoops! But I hope you still like it!!

Imagine | Beloved (Paul Atreides)

Word Count: 1,820

Warnings: reader is harassed, I invented an OC to be the antagonist, protective! Paul, hurt/comfort

The halls of Castle Caladan are cold tonight.

Goosebumps are already forming on your arms as you walk through the dark.

Perhaps going for a late night stroll wasn't the best idea, but you just couldn't sleep tonight.

So you stroll instead, peering out of the windows to observe the rain clouds forming.

Castle Caladan has been your home for ages, even though you are not an Atreides. You've lived alongside House Caladan, having come from one of the lesser houses in an attempt to give you a better standing in society.

You're not angry about it.

In fact, you're grateful to live on this oceanic planet. And, you're happy to be alongside your best friend, Paul Atreides.

There weren't any others your age in Castle Caladan, so naturally you sought each other out early on.

Being friends came easily.

Paul has always been sweet, adventurous, friendly - and you are much the same.

Of course, you both had different teachings and priorities, but you always found each other whenever possible.

There was no greater joy than racing through the castle and playing near the waves alongside the boy with dark hair.

And now you're both older.

Life has intruded upon those times of peaceful play and brought forth more schoolings and politics that the young aren't susceptible to.

Although he has a higher standing in society, Paul always manages to remember you, make time for you. He vowed to never abandon you.

And you believe him.

But the subtle glares that Lady Jessica sends your way are not easy to ignore, nor are the signs that others in the castle are uncomfortable with the situation.

You try not to dwell on those things. Because the only thing that matters is being there for Paul. He deserves to have a friend that isn't a mentor or a parental figure.

As you walk though the sleeping palace, your find your mind troubled. Maybe that's why you can't sleep tonight.

Footsteps silent on the stone floor, you arrive before Paul's chambers. You hadn't realized you were walking here. Unconsciously, you sought him out in your time of uncertainty.

Resting your palm on the door, you close your eyes and sigh. You wouldn't disturb him at this hour- you know how bad it would look.

Before you can continue on your way, a voice calls out from the shadows.

"What are you doing here at this hour?"

It's a male's voice, one that you wish was unfamiliar.

"I didn't realize I couldn't roam as I please, Aric," you reply comply to the guard who walks closer.

His grin is wolffish, "I didn't realize you were stupid enough to come to him after dark."

"I was not going to disturb him."

"Oh no, I imagine he'd be excited to see you at this late hour."

"I don't like what you're insinuating," you start to walk away, hearing him continue after you.

He is right beside you, “I meant no insult, I assure you.”

“Your assurances are as empty as your head,” you retort, not even giving him a glance.

You’ve never liked Aric, so you see no reason to be civil with him. He’s always been an ass to you, finding any reason to make your life a bit more miserable.

“That was uncalled for,” he growls, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away.

You fix him with an unimpressed stare.

“What do you want, Aric? It seems like you’re always following me,” you say calmly as he releases you.

He regains his composure, “I want you.”

You blink at him.

“I’m serious, I want you to stop fawning over Paul and turn to me instead,” his whisper is harsh and grating to your ears. “Be my wife. You’re of age now and I know you have no other offers.”

You can’t help but scoff. Stepping back from him, you cross your arms, “I do not fawn over Paul, and I am certainly not fond of you. I will do is both a favour and pretend you never asked.”

Rage lights up his features, his hand forming a fist at his side.

“I could give you everything you could ask for.”

“And you would take everything from me in the meantime. I know you, Aric. You are not kind,” you hiss, stepping back while he steps forward.

“Kindness gets you nowhere in this life.”

You shake your head, “Your actions in this life determine the outcome. And so far your actions are untoward. Cornering me at this time of night?”

“Paul will never marry you, you know,” he changes tactics.

You roll your eyes, “Admit defeat, Aric. I will never be yours.”

Suddenly, he is right in your face, sneering down at you, “I can take what I want. Like you said, it’s late, no one is here.”

“I will not let you.”

He laughs, grabbing your arm in a bruising grip once again. He wrenches you forward but you twist out of his grip and shove him into the wall.

He groans and recovers quickly, shoving you violently. You hit a corner and collapse on the ground, your arm dripping crimson.

Infuriated, you stand and glare at the smug bastard.

“Leave now,” you command him, using the Voice. You’re not a master at it, by any means, but you’re trained enough to get this brute to back down.

He leaves without a word, and you realize that you should have done that right away.

You grasp your arm and walk back to your chambers. Luckily, the wound isn’t deep and you’re finally able to sleep.

~~~

The next day commences as normal.

That is, until Paul appears next to you as you walk down the beach.

“I was looking for you,” he grins as he approaches.

His smile could brighten the darkest corner of space. His eyes are piercing and perceptive, you fear you could drown in their depths.

You smile back at him, “You found me.”

“I haven’t seen you in a few days, has everything been alright?”

That’s Paul, always so considerate of you and your wellbeing. The reminder of his care brings a softer smile to your face.

“I’m fine, just been tired lately.”

“Why?”

“Sleep’s been evading me,” you chuckle, bending to pick up a stone near your feet. “I’ll catch it eventually.”

A sudden tension fills the air, bringing you upright immediately. You look at Paul and see his gaze fixed on your bandaged arm.

“What happened?” He asks, concern dripping from his words like rain.

You move your arm from his direct view, “Nothing, it was an accident.”

His eyes flicker up to yours.

“You’re lying.”

You curse his Bene Gesserit training which makes it so easy for him to read you.

“I told you it’s nothing.”

“If it was nothing, you would’ve already launched into how it happened,” he points out. “Like that time you scraped your knee when you tripped down the stairs.”

You groan at the reminder, “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again!”

“Tell me what happened,” he reaches out to gently take your arm in his hands.

He examines the clean bandage before beginning to unwrap it. You shake your head but his eyes are pleading.

“Please.”

You sigh, unable to resist. He doesn’t even need to use the Voice on you, he controls you with his words, his eyes, his hands. You would give him everything if he simply asked for it.

He’d do the same for you.

“It was Aric,” you say, as Paul stares at the small cut on your bruised arm. “He got angry that I would never marry him in a million years.”

Paul’s expression goes dark, any mirth he might have had leaving him in an instant.

“Aric asked you to wed him?”

You nod.

“Then he did this?”

“Pushed me into the wall,” you confess. “I had ti use the Voice to get him to leave.”

You watch as Paul tenderly presses his lips to your arm, the contact warm and sweet.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“You can’t be with me all the time, silly.”

He shakes his dark hair, “I promise, he won’t do this to you ever again.”

“How-“

Paul turns in a flurry, stalking back towards the castle. You race after him, suddenly unsure.

You knew you shouldn’t have told him what happened. This isn’t the Paul you know, this is someone else.

“Paul!” You shout as you run after him.

He’s too fast, storming to where Aric stands in the hall. Before Aric even notices his presence, Paul has punched him clear across the face.

Stunned, Aric stumbles back with a curse.

Paul doesn’t give him time to recover, kneeing him in the stomach so that he bends over in pain. You watch as Paul kicks him down to the ground, standing over him with a furious expression.

“I heard what you did last night, Aric.”

Aric groans in response.

Paul continues, “I know you tried to harm my beloved, tried to belittle her. Did you think you wouldn’t be punished?”

“Paul, I think he’s learnt his lesson,” you try to calm him.

“No, no he hasn’t.”

Paul watches as Aric rises to his feet, mouth bloodied.

“I should’ve known that whore would snitch.”

You wince, not at the intended insult, but at the fury blazing in Paul’s eyes. This isn’t going to end well.

“Stop talking,” Paul uses the Voice, before punching him once again.

“Get on your knees.”

You watch as Aric drops to the floor.

“Beg for her forgiveness and I’ll let you walk away,” Paul says casually. “If you don’t, I think you know what’ll happen.”

Watching with a flicker of amusement, you incline your head, “Go on.”

Aric grits his teeth, “I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t good enough,” Paul seethes, “Do it better!”

Aric slams his head on the floor, “Please, please, don’t let him kill me. I won’t ever speak to you again!”

“I know you won’t,” you nod at Paul. “I think all is well now.”

“Get up Aric,” Paul commands. “I don’t want to see your face again, you hear me?”

Aric nods and retreats with a burning face.

You turn to Paul, crossing your arms, “Beloved, huh?”

He rubs the back of his neck, averting his gaze, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Paul, hearing you call me that fills my heart to the brim. Your my beloved as well, you know.”

Paul bridges the space between you, clasping the back of your head and pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t think I could ever be without you. Even the thought of someone trying to take you from me, turn you against me…”

“Don’t worry, Paul,” you ghost your lips across his. “That will never happen, not as long as I have breath in my lungs.”

He wraps his arms around you, “I’ll cherish you always, protect you always.”

“I know.”

[A/n - It’s my first time writing Paul so I hope I did ok!]

[lex-the-flex]

Drinking the Water of Life

Paul Atreides x reader

He didn't want this. He never wanted this to happen. So why now? And why did it have to you?

From the moment Paul Atreides claimed his Fremen name, he prayed this wouldn't have to happen. But it did. While his mind was clear and open, yours remained foggy and closed off. If it was up to him, he would've kept you there, with your limited visions of the future.

But he loved you with all his heart.

And he couldn't see you suffer any longer without him. Paul chose you to rule at his side, after all.

Returning to your place in the shared communal room, Paul offers you a small smile before returning to his meal.

"How are you? I haven't seen you all day." He whispered so only you could hear.

"I'm alright. The water extractors are holding up. You should've seen all the packs I had to carry. Stilgar was impressed that I could carry thirty pounds for three straight miles." You explain.

Finally being able to relax at Paul's side, you notice how his blue within blue eyes look at you. While he's proud of you, something else lingers behind his orbs.

"Paul, what is it?" You ask.

Setting down his bowl, he takes your hands in his with a gentle grasp. Calmly stroking his fingers over your knuckles, he leans closer, his lips inches from your ear.

"I need you to travel South with me. Just the two of us, on a private mission before the others make the journey. I need you by my side, Y/N." He explains.

Calmly nodding your head, you instantly knew what he meant: you had to drink the Water of Life. The others knew it too, spreading rumors that stung like needles into your back. How you weren't worthy of loving Paul, the Muad'dib. Even the other Fremen began to question your loyalty.

As you were an outsider like Paul and his mother, Jessica, you remained faithful to House Atreides as it was one of the final commands given to you by Duke Leto himself. But now you had to truly prove yourself, you had to show everyone why Paul chose you above any other Fremen girl in your sietch.

"Okay, Paul. I will follow your hand until the very end. I will follow Muad'dib, my Usul, with an open heart." You declare as he pulls you in for a loving embrace.

*****

Guiding you further into the Southern temple, Paul never lets go of your hand. The beautiful sanctuary pulls you in with its calming circular architecture and stillness. Leading you to the main chamber, Paul is welcomed by another Fremen fundamentalist showing him the utmost respect.

Discovering a pool of water, you wander over to it before noticing the presence of a small sandworm swimming in the cloudy liquid. Scrunching your brows at the rapidly moving creature, Paul places his hand on your shoulder.

"It's time, Y/N."

Joining Paul and the Fremen member, she holds a jar containing a bright blue liquid that appears even sharper than the blue within blue eyes themselves. Feeling your breath catch in the back of your throat, you begin to panic, even taking a step away from Paul.

Placing a hand over your chest, your bare fingertips try to find solace in the sand covered stillsuit, and your own heartbeat echoes against your eardrums.

"It's alright. It's alright, Y/N. I'm here." Paul advises, leaning his forehead against yours.

Holding the nape of your neck in his hands, his dark curls tickle the edge of your face.

"I... I don't know if I can do this, Paul. I can't fail you." You say as your lip begins to quiver.

"You can. I believe in you. House Atreides believes you. You can do this, Y/N, just as your Usul before you." Paul replies, stroking your cheek.

Calming your breathing, you quietly nod before Paul, coming to your decision.

Laying down in between the stone pools, the Fremen offers you the glass bottle, lowering the top of the spout into your open mouth. Drinking the cold liquid, you swallow the water, and it enters your system. Taking your hand in his, Paul rubs your knuckles whilst your body goes numb.

Convulsing on the stone, every inch of your body writhes in pain, from the temples on your head, to your very reproductive system. A terrifying scream releases from your damp lips as the visions of the future, past, and present dance along the thin skin of your eyelids. Then, as soon as they appear, the prophecies of the future disappear within seconds.

You were cold, numb, in between the land of the living and the dead.

Offering the bottle to Paul, tears begin to fall on his face, and he mixes the salty drops with the freshwater.

Pressing the water to your lips, Paul bends down and kisses you lips, allowing you to return to him once more.

Feeling his lips leave your own, your eyes open, and you are awake. Your mind was open and Paul took you into his lap, studying your new set of eyes with all the love he could give you.

taglist ~

@dreamliners

@visionsofsweettea

@xplore-the-unknwn

@kaleidoscope1967eyes

@shions-new-blog-of-stuff

[yandere-wishes]

The feminine urge to make posts that are so barbiecore yet simultaneously have it chill the reader to the very bone and haunt their minds like Nosferatu.

[controld3vil]

popcorn bucket

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (ALL platonic) synopsis: dune dune DUNE. thats it. notes: this completely out of genre for me but i genuinely really like these actor!reader fics !! they're soooo good. and the reader is intended to be gender neutral :D OH and no beta read..

"Maude, a.k.a Maude'Dib for Nerdist!" There was a laugh coming from Rebecca Ferguson as you situated yourself next to her. "Hi! How are you guys?" The blonde woman who supposedly to be your interviewer, Maude Garrett, warmly welcomes the two of you with friendly gestures. "This is my first one of these,"

"This is my second actually," you recuperate back a loveable grin, scouting your back towards the chair. "For you... I'd imagine," then cast a glance to your seatmate, for her response.

"I've been doing them but this is my first." As Rebecca situates herself, holding her phone in one hand, and you, patting any creases found on your trousers. "I'm- I'm down to it - I'm googling..."

A short pause but no matter, as you leaned towards Rebecca's screen and read it out loud. "Dune's Popcorn Bucket,"

"Yeah I don't understand, what's happening?" she shifts the screen for you to have a better look before looking up at the interviewer in pure confusion and bizarreness. You knock your head sideways, trying to discern the confusing photo. A small pout forms on your lips as your brain toggles what exactly you're looking at.

"Oh, you don't know about the AMC popcorn bucket?!" The kind woman exasperates, eyes widening in pure surprise.

Not a second later, your eyes look up at the revelation. "Oh, I see it now!"

Rebecca lifts up her phone and presents what the two of you are looking at. "I'm seeing something but I'm not sure what's going on? What it is?" She still didn't understand what it was and you swirled your hips towards her in a swooshing motion.

"You're supposed to put your hand in there and eat the popcorn," Pivoting your head a little, a grimaced look is plastered on your face. "It's the worm!" The camera zooms into your disturbed expression and then cuts to the Garrett looking straight at them, giving a moment for the audience to register what had happened.

Your costar turns to you and her expression quickly switches to a mischievous one. "Oh." Your strained childish smile almost falters as you try to hold your laugh in.

A few significant chuckles from the blonde interviewee while Rebecca looks back and forth from the film crew to you, her, and the camera. "I don't think they had an intern that had a, you know, "different mindset"."

"How uhm,"

"Interesting!

"Sensual!" A short muffled laugh escapes your laugh coming off as a snort as you instinctively cover your mouth out of embarrassment. Rebecca's word of choice definitely caught you off guard which caused some ruckus behind the camera as well.

"How sensual! That's the perfect word for it," The camera pans towards your red puffed cheeks, looking forward nodding alongside the interviewee who is taking the conversation so charismatically well.

"Yes! Yes!"

"You could say you have to ride the sandworm to earn your spots," Garrett teasingly says while Rebecca and you nod in agreement.

"Well look at that. That's what happened back in the days of MGM, but thankfully we've moved on," she replies tiddling with the toothpick in her mouth as you held your breath for a second. A delayed puff comes from Garrett, looking at the actress beside you in shock.

To say the three of you had a blast through the next hour of the interview.

In another interview, you were paired up with Josh Brolin who had played Gurney Halleck. In respect of your character, his pupil, you couldn't help but feel excited because in very few instances had they given you the chance to be in an interview with him.

Lainey Lui who was eager to talk the both of you, sat across from you both in front of a majestic poster of the project. The title, Dune Part Two was shown in its iconic font. The background was a still of one of the sets used in the film which displayed muted colors and curves.

The woman briefly introduced herself and you did the same. Spotting Brolin, you give a small wave before taking the seat beside him where he earnestly wraps his arm around your back. In full comfort and level of readiness, you felt the tiny jitters fly away.

"It's nice to see you two! So what about introducing Gurney and being able to reunite with someone that means so much to him?"

With a variety of cast members, the film was expansive to bring its sets to life. You felt it on day one of filming the first Dune movie. Yet you become more determined to do more when the production of the second film comes. It was phenomenal teamwork, from the film and cast crew. People in wardrobe and makeup were dedicated to making the costumes feel authentic and lived in. The works of Denise Villeneuve is something you've been fascinated with for a while, dating back to his early works.

It all comes back circle to Josh Brolin, remembrance in all of the heartfelt scenes he had done with Timothee of Gurney's and Paul's reunion. He reminds the interviewee that Paul's relationship with him is strong and familial. And that initially the scene was improvised due to their filming schedule.

"He really is like an anchor for him." "Yeah because for the past nine months, he's been spiraling and lost his family." Brolin nods in agreement, making an analogy with his fingers swirling down in a circle. You couldn't help but feel captivated about what they said, placing an elbow on your knee to better listen.

"And- This means no offense to your character!" Lui, the interviewer almost frantically calls out, moving the attention to you. And suddenly you wake from your trance of listening to being pulled back to their conversation.

"Oh no no! Not at all!" As you try to sweep the worry off, waving your hands in a panic.

A soft chuckle erupts from Brolin, seeing how almost innocently you want to pay no heed to the attention. "Of course, Gurney's moment with Paul could never amount to his and Nerre's- I mean I think their relationship really evolved in this movie than the last one," He sarcastically dismissed, crossing his arms while you dramatically gape at your co-star.

"Of course it did! What are you tryna to say, Brolin?" You leaned forward in your chair towards his direction almost like a child would when wanting to make a point.

"Come on, I hope you're not choosing favorites between your family," The interviewee cutely teases, giving a smile.

"I just think- You know for not having to see him for so long, you could've," It was a tiny joke you and the cast had made before while filming the exact scene he had discussed. In a similar scene to where Paul reunites with Gurney, he reunites with Nerre, your character, his pupil, and has been a father figure too. Shoots were slightly rocking as your reaction to seeing Gurney for the first time on the scene didn't go as satisfactory as Denise Villeneuve had intended. Instead, the two of you (and very much of the crew) couldn't stop giggling at your attempted sad faces. Nerre in the final cut, when meeting Gurney becomes teary-eyed and ultimately cries in his arms. While in actuality, you couldn't take it seriously enough to go rushing to give Brolin a hug. "Put much more of an effort to look happy?"

"That!" You wave an X with both arms, embarrassed how your own co-star would drag you out like this. "I say was very much my fault but we got the take in the end!"

"Sure we did," The older actor aimlessly nods, not once believing your words, having the biggest grin on his face. Evidently, the interview goes smoothly with occasional hits and jabs between the both of you regarding your performance. And sooner it comes full circle back to you and the dynamic of Gurney and Nerre.

"As you've said earlier," your head snaps back to the male actor poignantly, as if mocking, "I don't think Gurney and Paul's relationship would deter anything with Nerre. They're very tight-knitted because we are all family essentially," You spread your hands out as if mimicking a large circle, "I know a lot of people wanted to see Gurney and Nerre's growth and I'm glad we got to see that. But it's essentially Paul that we're seeing spiral toward madness. So it makes sense to see him meeting Gurney more meaningful."

"Yes, it really shows the stakes they all have to deal with!"

"Exactly, my point!" One last look from Brolin as he makes eye contact with you before raising his hand for a high five. Were you now going to compete for Josh Brolin's favoritism against Timothee without his acknowledgment? Of course, you are.

Out in the deserts of Abu Dhabi, the vast bodies of sand were infinite. Much of the crew delivered and prepared props, and essential needs as their number one priority. In it's hot weather and shivering nights, the film production didn't discover much disturbance from the weather. It was rather quite pleasant under it's wake luckily. Some crew were happily taking pictures and filming some of the crew walking around to promote their upcoming project.

"This costume rocks!" You jump off from a small rock platform into the frame of the vertical camera focus and give two thumbs up. You then waved towards the cameraman with an enthusiastic smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning!" Rebecca Ferguson's shout can be heard on the other side of the set as the view pivots towards her in full costume of robes and blue tattoos. "Another day of shooting!"

Day in and out, the production in Abu Dhabi was fun for you. It wasn't much of a nuisance you had feared due to the sand and hot weather but surprisingly pleasant with the luminescent scenery always present behind every camera view.

In another clip, it's shown in the grand hall at the climax of the movie. Where the massive amount of extras were standing, circling the space in the middle for the camera crew to shoot. Timothee was off in the background, practicing his moves with Austin Butler who supposedly would have a spontaneous battle against each other. On the side, you were happily chatting with Florence Pugh in her exquisite attire as Princess Irulan and Christopher Walken were only a few steps behind. You looked beyond curious and happy. A cute short was captured of you trying to poke the small blades on Florence's costume.

The camera expands to reveal all of the other cast such as Zendaya and Rebecca and Javier Bardem chatting. And Denise Villeneuve improvising a scene with Josh Brolin.

Lastly an endearing story comes from your story of Zendaya dragging you with water as you try your best to stand on your feet. You forget who had your phone (Was it Timothee? Or Josh Brolin?) but they were behind the camera, following you around as you struggled to walk to the table full of water cauldrons.

Zendaya was by your side, having a hand on your back, says, "Come on, you can do it!" An determined yelp for your name and you childishly groan.

"I feel like my legs are gonna fall off!"

"You should've taken more water with you kid!" It was Brolin's voice from the far right which confirms Timothee was the one behind the camera. The set production was a few feet, resulting in why cast members always to bring water. Yet from an odd perspective, you had tired yourself out too much. It was as if you had just run a ten-meter run.

Though it felt a marathon, you were doing fall stunts constantly up and down the hills of sand. And to say you were exhausted was an understatement. A chuckle erupts and the air feels lighter when Javier Bardem arrives into frame, seeing your poor state.

"Drink some more water!"

As your next story slides to you chugging down a full hydro flask of water like an animal thirsting for air. Your female costar beside you looked at you in horror, almost terrified of stopping you.

"Hey slow down!"

This wasn't the final moment of your press for the film. However, it was the most captivating and relishing one. In the room full of your favorite people and an interviewee dedicated to the works of Dune, Naz Perez, you all delved into the complex characters you all portrayed onscreen and discussed the juggling topics of characters, love, and how to ride a sandworm.

One by one, the woman pointed out interesting questions for all of your cast to expand upon and you couldn't help but be pulled into a trance to what everyone said. From the dynamics of the new characters beginnings to the interior struggles they had, the room felt revelating of the dedicated work of Denise Villeneueve.

Until Perez perfectly transitions her attention to you after listening to Austin Butler's performance. "Speaking of elevating performances," A few of the people on the couch cooed and awed as you bashfully clamped your hands together in an innocent manner. Your name is spoken out. "Nerre's transformation in Part Two is really eye-opening. For someone who had started out as a young, skilled, and playful warrior to a more serious and revengeful one, how do you think they helped Nerre evolve as a person?"

"I've wanted to point this out before, yeah Nerre kind of starts out a free-willed comedic character," You nod trying to find the right words to describe your interpretation of your character. "But then after "losing" Gurney and being separated from everyone, they could only look forward towards the perpetrators which were the Harkonnen. And for that, they're consumed with the idea of revenge, taking back what was once theirs, their home. You see this when Paul or the other Fremen question their motives because that's a dark path to go by," Each person you mentioned turn their heads to listen to your words carefully, knowing how dedicated you were to the film.

"Right, and for better and or for worse, they have matured. They're being front about the decisions being made, and what's happening in Arrakis, so tell me the conflicts they must've had to deal with others."

"Mmm I would say a lot of their internal turmoil " You were hesitant to say if it was going to spoiler territory. But glancing towards everyone, made you feel assured you were doing fine. "Is always guarded against others. But upon the last film, I believe the revelation of the destruction of House Atreides opened their eyes to first found war. And it terrifies them you know, you have to put in perspective they were young teenagers. So seeing that and then meeting these new characters who are vastly different and want for change, motivates them to induce war. So it brings conflict to almost everyone because war will attract more chaos." You attempt to piece together your last remaining sentences, looking up and down at the interviewer.

"No words can be better said," Perez dazedly comments, placing a hand over her heart you flaunt lovingly. "Reminds me of a certain psycho."

"Right! You know Feyd-Rautha and Nerre could've been besties!" You snapped your fingers which made both Zendaya and Florence burst out laughing. While Austin stares at you smiling, nodding in agreement.

[choerypetal]

Little Accidents / Paul Atreides

Summary: Paul's obliviousness was soon shattered when frequent visits to the nursing room revealed the true essence of love at first sight.

Ps: This is a short fluff I had in mind, but I hope you enjoy and also english isn't my first language so bare with minimal errors, (once upload i always make sure to update now my works, if there is any errors) Enjoy! XOXO

As the heir of the Atreides' House, Paul effortlessly following in his father's esteemed footsteps. He possesses an acute sense of ownership, ensuring he's well aware of everything under his purview. Whether it's news of your battle injuries or workplace mishaps, Paul is always the first to know, abandoning any prior engagements to rush to your aid. While you're being tended to, his concern is palpable; his eyes scan for any signs of harm as he utters all while using the voice. ‘Where?’ This gesture of worry has become familiar, a reassurance you've grown accustomed to, especially when your visits to the infirmary often serve as an excuse to steal moments with him. ‘Dropped a weapon on my foot,’ you explain with a hint of ruefulness, ‘guess my impatience got the better of me, inadvertently knocking out one of the armories. Pity.’

Indeed, quite a pity. Paul couldn't help but notice your composure, devoid of any telltale signs of injury. It either seemed that the nurse had efficiently tended to you before his arrival—a stroke of luck, perhaps. However, Paul wasn't fooled; this wasn't the first time you'd urgently summoned him to the infirmary. Today, he harbored suspicions that you might finally reveal the true reason behind your frequent visits. “If you'd prefer I refrain from using the Voice," he remarked, a hint of seriousness in his tone, "you'll need to be more forthcoming than simply labeling it an accident, my dear."

However, you eventually reassured the head nurse, explaining that it was merely a minor issue requiring attention. Your heart fluttered with a mixture of nerves and affection as Paul insisted on tending to your wounds himself, rather than delegating the task to anyone else. As the room cleared, leaving just the two of you alone, Paul attempted to devise a plausible excuse while discreetly observing your work. This added another layer of challenge for him, yet he remained determined to keep a watchful eye on you. “Now tell,” A pregnant pause was felt soon as he sat next to you. “How I am suppose to know, that there is probably more reason than just a visit at the nursery?” 

You find yourself drawn in by his innocence, but observing Paul working alongside his father and their associates, it becomes evident that innocence was not his defining trait anymore. In fact, there's a possibility he understands more than he lets on. Maybe he's even willing to engage in the game you're playing. You nonchalantly dismiss any concerns, offering the excuse that you're just adding a bit of spice to the situation. However, Paul's reaction suggests that perhaps it's not the right moment to discuss such matters, especially anything related to the Spice itself.

Paul tilted his head, almost taking offense at your attempt at humor. Despite his awareness of your desire to spend more time alone with him, he understood that convincing him to stay a little longer each time wasn't as simple as it seemed. Even if his attempts at pampering you, like tending to invisible wounds that morphed into cuddle sessions, were charming, he recognized that your discussions about the 'Spice' were more about politics than relaxation. Poor thing– that was all he knew about out. This realization led to a soft chuckle from you, followed by an apology for bringing up the topic. However, Paul dismissed your apology, urging you not to discuss such matters, especially around him, as he couldn't help but wonder why you frequented the nursing room more often than before. “Now tell me, or I might just become as impatient as you’ll be when demanding kisses..”

His voice trailed off, almost seductive when Paul was right about to expose this little game of yours. Instantly you could feel his lip curve slightly into a smirk as he saw your expression, your eyes winding in shock, trying your very best to obliged. That you were the one who meant to shock Paul out of his work for some time but, perhaps you were indeed right about your wonders. That in fact, Paul knew that the exact reasons why you obliged yourself to the nursing room more often than ever. Only to find out, it was to spend more time with him. But Paul being himself, being the type of guy that he is, did not to confess his wrong at first or to be completely oblivious. After all– he is the duke’s son. 

"So, let me get this straight," Paul Atreides began, his tone tinged with a mixture of disbelief and introspection. "I, Paul Atreides, am so easily ensnared by your little charade? It's rather disheartening, truth be told." There was a hint of a pout on his lips as he contemplated your adeptness at expressing your desires, though he couldn't entirely fault you for it. With the constant demands of dealing with the Harkonnens and managing CHOAM affairs, finding time for you had become more challenging than he and you had anticipated. 

Unlike his parents, whose marriage was purely political, Paul had chosen a different path, one where your presence held a significance beyond mere political alliances. For him, building a future within the confines of the Atreides' House with you by his side was a deeply personal and cherished desire. Material wealth could wait; what mattered most was the connection he shared with you. With a sigh, he reached out to gently caress your cheek, a silent acknowledgment of your correctness all along. Perhaps it was time to prioritize his own happiness, even if it meant putting paperwork aside momentarily. "Maybe you're onto something," he admitted, his voice softening. "Perhaps you’re right, perhaps it's time for me to take a break from the endless bureaucracy and spend some quality time together. After all, even I need to unwind–."

Paul's words carried a weight of remorse rarely heard, especially within the esteemed Atreides family. As he neared the end of his sentence, you leaned in swiftly, feeling the soft brush of his lips against yours in a lingering kiss. The longing shared between you both was palpable, though circumstances often made indulgence impractical, intensifying the desire even more. When Paul finally pulled away, he gently nibbled at your lower lip, a playful chuckle escaping him at the sudden surge of hunger between the two of you. There was an undeniable yearning to touch, caress, and love you. "Perhaps I'll request a day off," he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of promise. “Perhaps you will.” You both end up chuckling as he cups your face, his eyes gazing from your eyes to your lips. Paul confessed once more,

“And perhaps, we don't always have to use the excuse of happy accidents, so I can exile from paperwork every now and then.” 

[motherofdogs1010]

Of Messiahs and Seeds I (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: Emperor Paul of House Atreides has set forth with expansion of his empire on the planets that have resisted and has now come across the last stronghold that resists him: Terra Millennium...

Warnings: eventual 18+, dark!fic, eventual forced marriage, eventual NONCON, eventual pregnancy, dark!Paul Atreides, more to come as story progresses

A/N: Reader is inspired by Daenarys Targaryen with dragons and Sailor Moon's Silver Crystal lol, so I hope you all enjoy!! Terra is similar to Earth, I imagined Lord York to be Tyrion Lannister so please picture that

😈 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😈 Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

"Terra Millennium stands as a enomely in the universe for their rejection against the Empire", the hologram records said. "A two-century long battle was waged for the planet through the Great Houses yet the people won through the help of someone they have since called 'The Conqueror'."

Paul had heard of the Terra Millennium, their planet one of lush greenery, vast oceans and an abundance of resources that the previous Emperor had tried countless times to harvest just as House Harkonnen had done with the Spice on Arrakis, but alas, no one had ever been successful in mining Terra Millennium. He had heard that they experience something called 'seasons', he wondered what that was.

Just as he had done with Arrakis, Paul sat in his private room, watching hologram clips of Terra Millennium as his fleet flew to the planet to finally land conquest through the help of the Fremen.

"Anthropologists have never been able to stay long on the planet or among the people, but what has been gathered is the people have rejected the teachings of the Bene Gesserit, labeling it as hertic literature."

Terra Millennium was an odd planet with an odd people who had unusually long live spans, being able to live into their thousands without a single wrinkle or grey, they repented against the Bene Gesserit, the use of the Spice; he had heard of the people of that land believing solely in the ruling Queens because of a crystal, one of immense power that was sought after.

"Characterized by their white hair, the ruling House of L/N have upheld the traditional values of the planet, which has a population of over 1 billion. Only female heirs have been able to inherit the throne and it is rumored that a single crystal that is worn by every ruling Queen is said to hold immense power that has granted its people longevity, peace and prosperity."

A knock interrupted his research, Paul seeing Stilgar walk in followed by Gurney.

"Muad'Dib, we have touched land on Terra Millennium", Stilgar said, "they have responded to our communication message."

"What did they say?" he asked, Gurney chuckled.

"They said if we proceed with our mission, they will see it as an act of war", Gurney said, "they're real hard asses here."

"You've been, Gurney?" Paul asked, curious.

"Once", Gurney replied, "I came with your father on a diplomatic assignment, but that was with their previous Queen Helene. This one is new, just coronated a few months ago."

He thought back to the new dreams he had been having of a woman whose hair was the color of white that hung down near the ground in large curls, whose eyes were hard and the color of lilac with the roar of a great beast that rung in his ears when he would awaken from his dreams.

Unlike his dreams with Chani, these felt different now that he had drunken the Water of Life. His visions of the woman consisted of a gentle breeze sweeping through her hair, it curling around her as she was dressed in a long, white silk dress that clung to her body and trailed in a long train behind her with woven golden in the upper bodice. She stood on a tall pillar of crystal, a tall scepter in her hands that she was raising above her head as the breeze picked up.

Soon, the dreams melted in a great war as crystals encapsulating him, a bright light that blinded him yet filled him with warmth and security.

"Show them the full might of the Empire", Paul said, "after all, they are in the presence of the Muad'Dib."

And it was those eyes that greeted him when he finally set foot on the pavement of Terra Millennium with its tall structures that were made of variously colored crystals.

Neo-Queen Amaris was the regal name Y/N had chosen to go by when she took the throne a mere few months ago. Of course, she went by her name, Y/N in private with those closets to her and only by her regal name with others.

Y/N had heard the rumors of the new Emperor wanting to claim her home, her people; he wanted to bring her planet into the vastly growing empire that he ruled under as a supposed Messiah to the Fremen and Bene Gesserit: Muad'Dib. Everyone had heard of how he supposedly liberated Arrakis and the Fremen people, marrying Princess Irulan as a political move to secure his position as the new Emperor.

Only a few days ago did a message come into their Communication's Hub from the Emperor about finally claiming Terra Millennium for not only himself but for the Fremen as it would be their 'Green Paradise'.

War will come to Terra Millennium if you refuse to submit, the message read.

"My Queen", her advisor, Lord York, said as she sat on her throne. "Reports have come in that the Atreides fleet has made contact on the landing pad near the Capital. Scouts have seen the Atreides Army beginning to get ready."

Lord York was a man of small stature with a head full of bronze curls and dark brown eyes that always looked calculated as if he was already ten steps ahead.

Y/N looked over at Lord York before bringing a hand to the crystal that hung around her neck on a chain that could never be removed from her neck before slowly standing up from her throne that was encrusted in gemstones.

"I believe it is time we greet them", she said, looking over her court. "After all, hospitality is what our people are known for."

And it is not like they have any chance of having their weapons working; outside weaponry not from Terra M had no chance of working and she wondered what their reactions would be once they realized this.

"But before we go", Lord York said, "may I make a suggestion?"

Y/N made a motion to the man, who gave a nod and said, "I believe it is our Queen's best interest to wear your ancestor, The Conqueror's crown and scepter to greet our guests. It would show the great strength you possess, a message to not only the Great Houses but the Emperor as well."

"That sounds like a great idea."

"You are the presence of our Neo-Queen", a man said with a thick facial beard, "first of her name, descendant of our goddess Selene and The Conqueror, wielder of the great Silver Crystal, Mother of all, Neo-Queen Amaris."

Paul watched as the man motioned to the woman he had been dreaming about, he could see that as the breeze came that she wore no shoes; all the Terrians didn't despite their silken clothes as they stood amongst the tall crystal structures. They had landed as close to the Capital, finding that there was a landing pad despite the relatively isolated nature of the planet.

"I welcome you, Paul of House Atreides", she said with a stoic expression. "But now you must leave."

The woman, their Queen Amaris, looked upon them with a hint of annoyance as she held a large scepter in one hand that was as tall as Duncan Idaho had been with gold and gem embellishments, but what was curious was that at the top of the scepter where it looked as if a missing piece was needed. The crown she wore on her head was large, glittering in diamonds and curved up into a point as she stood there, her hair having a few small braids that pulled the framing hair away with kiss curls on her forehead.

"Leave?" Paul said with some amusement.

Irulan stood next to him dressed in a silver mesh outfit, a metal hair net that connected over into her dress that held down her short blonde hair. Paul was glad that he Voiced the woman to stop talking, she would not stop and frankly, he had no desire to try and pursue a romantic relationship with the woman after Chani chose to leave further into Arrakis.

His mother stood amongst them, holding the bundled form of his sister, Alia.

"I did not realize a Emperor could have poor hearing", Amaris said, "you are not welcome on Terra Millennium nor do we plan on allowing for you to colonize us. Terra M remains alone."

Paul took in the way she spoke, her accent one he had never heard before and the formal way of speaking. He noticed the large gem that hung around her neck, it sparkled in the sunlight as she stood there and looked to be the size of a her palm.

"Also, we did not apperciate your Bene Gesserit coming", she continued, "spreading their heretic language, you will find them in the Prisoner's Bay."

"You don't believe in the Muad'Dib, the Kwisatz Haderach?" Paul asked.

"We believe in our Queen, may her reign be as prosperous as Selene", the bearded man said.

The Queen just looked at him with contempt, he saw her lip curl a little in annoyance.

And it was that look that made something stir deep in Paul and made him feel something that he never felt before. She looked at him as if he was a bug ready to be squashed underneath her foot

He wanted to possess the woman in front of him, at all costs and he didn't care who he had to kill... he was going to.

[loverangels]

PAUL ATREIDES

(no work yet)

[ghostgirl101]

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

[goldenatreides]

- training season -

[ paul atreides x reader ]

2.7k words, oneshot, smut, friends to lovers

summary: in a pinch, a dusty old weapons closet is just as good a hiding place as any.

content warnings: 18+ (minors shoo!) no use of y/n, all characters are over 18, f!reader, smut, religious imagery, mentions of violence, use of the Voice, implied consent, m/f pairing, fingering, PiV sex, semi-public unprotected sex, creampie, uhhhhh overuse of italics, gurney halleck jumpscare,

author’s note: you will pry my italics and religious imagery from my cold, dead hands. i need to be sedated. all feedback is appreciated and lmk if u find anything wrong, it’s my first time writing in a decade i think!! thank you to @earthshells for editing and teaching me about shrimping in bjj <3

🤍 masterlist 🤍 about 🤍 read on ao3 🤍

The clash of two blades resonates through the training room of Caladan.

Paul swipes at your side with his blade but you dodge, elbowing him hard in the ribs, catching him off balance. As you back away, he grabs your arm and pulls you down with him, pinning you against the ground; your face down on the cold stone floor, his legs straddling your back.

Your chest burns at the impact, flush against the floor. You feel his entire weight on top of you, heaving from exertion. His legs keep one arm locked at your side, under him, the other still caught in his grasp, pressed to the ground. Your blade scrapes against the stone.

“Do you yield?” His voice is much closer than you expect. His breath is close, tickling the back of your neck, too close, too warm—a shiver snakes down your spine.

(Why does it do that?)

Dark messy curls fall into your field of vision, some brushing the shell of your ear. A prickle against your jugular taunts you — his knife at your throat. Your shield buzzes with the contact.

(Ah.

He’s pressing it harder today than ever before.)

You make a small noise in answer, sound muffled by the ground.

Paul shifts his weight on top of you by sitting up, his legs still caging your back, knife at your throat. He relaxes the hand that holds yours bound.

(That’s new.)

Instead, Paul grabs a fistful of your hair at the back of your neck, lifting your head slightly. It hurts — but you can’t lie and say it’s… entirely unpleasant.

(Oh.

That’s new too.)

“Well?”

You can hear the teasing grin in his voice. Years upon years of training with him and still, he knows your left side is your weakest. But you’ll be damned before you give Paul the satisfaction of beating you for the third time in a row this week.

You wriggle slightly under him, testing his hold — why is he still clutching your hair? — and finding it looser than you expect, you rotate, using your free arm to lurch back and upwards suddenly, knocking him off you. You hear him land to your side with a thud and a surprised grunt, blade clattering to the ground.

Fingers curling around the hilt of your blade, you spin around, hooking your legs against his to trap him. Now, you straddle him, your knife pressing against his throat.

“What’s gotten into you today, Paul?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” he answers, still grinning.

His eyes are deadly, dark green.

Ignoring his choice to play stupid, you hiss: “Do you yield, Atreides?”

His holtzmann shield buzzes a bright red at his neck.

Your pulse buzzes too.

(Just the adrenaline.)

You want to wipe the smug grin off his face. He could have won so easily, you were distracted, why didn’t he?

Maybe he let his guard down too soon, or maybe — and you’ll never forgive him in this case — he’s going easy on you.

You feel the pinprick echo of his hands clutching your hair. A knot ties in your stomach, but you refuse to associate the two feelings.

(It must be close to lunch by now.)

Surely that must be it.

Paul laughs. It’s bright, airy — did your heart just skip a beat?

“Never.”

He reaches for his blade — that he shouldn’t have lost in the first place, he knows better than that — and as you lean forward to stop him, he uses your momentary distraction to free his other hand.

Which he promptly knots into your hair again, pulling you down by the back of your neck. Your legs slide out from under you against the slippery stone floor. Curse whoever built this castle.

Your own shield joins the buzzing, his knife finding your neck once more, yours still pressed against his, noses a hair’s width away.

His chest moves yours with each breath, every exhale waving strands of your hair that escaped his grasp.

You lie frozen above him for a moment or two. His eyes are so close you can count every individual lash, his pupils so blown you can see yourself reflected back at you.

Something about them is different today.

You’ve been staring at those eyes your whole life. Countless wishes cast on those same fallen lashes, gold flecks sparkling through a sea of forest green. You’ve seen them beam with childish mirth when you stole pastries from the kitchen, both your hands sticky from the bun you shared, giggling under a heavy oak table. You’ve seen them sorrowful and sullen, his under eyes as dark as bruises as he snuck into your room for comfort in the middle of the night after a bad dream, innocent adolescence.

Now, from so close, they’re dark, darker than you’ve seen—a raging sea, so bewitching it can drown you with no warning if you don’t tread with caution. You’ve caught glimpses of it before, in darkened hallways and after too many glasses of crimson Caladan wine, when he didn’t think you were looking—but never with such feverish intensity.

(Just the adrenaline.

He’s just caught up in the fight.)

Paul’s lips part slightly as his chest heaves up and down beneath you. You feel heat creeping into your cheeks, and a mirroring rosy blush dusts his high cheekbones. Few faint freckles dot his cheeks during the summer season and you see them now like clusters of little stars.

His eyes never leave yours, but his tongue darting out and slightly wetting his parted lips grabs your attention and you can’t help but stare. You trace your gaze along the dip in his cupid’s bow, the regal arch of his pointed nose, the cheekbones sculpted as if from marble of antiquity.

(Oh, Maker.

I’m staring.)

You cough to clear your throat from the thick silence that settles over the two of you, broken only by your mingled breaths. His mouth closes, lips curling into a coy smile as he sees you flush more under his stare.

“Something wrong?” his voice comes out husky, deeper than you’ve heard before. Why was the room suddenly so hot? The castle’s heating never worked so well.

You refuse to meet his piercing gaze again, mortified at the situation, desperate to look anywhere but at the boy below you. The boy —your childhood best friend, you remind yourself in an attempt to clear your head of whatever is happening—is different today.

(And whatever is happening is definitely not happening.

It’s just Paul.

He’s just messing with you.)

Still avoiding his eyes, you sit up, excuses already tumbling from your mouth—cut off by Paul tightening his grip on your hair, sending electric sparks tingling at the roots of your scalp.

Your breath hitches in your throat as his voice comes out not fully his own—distant, many echoing voices folding in his own all at once, commanding your undivided attention and acceptance:

“Look at me.”

Your stomach falls through the floor as your eyes snap to meet his. Maybe all those lessons he skipped to hang out with you were not so useless after all.

You feel every point of contact with him a thousandfold. His hand in your hair, yours on his chest, his toned waist between your ever-so-slightly trembling legs. His other hand drops his knife, and slides up to rest on your waist, lithe fingers delicately brushing the stitches of your clothing.

“Paul—” Your voice comes out more of a whispery mumble than you expected.

(Maybe the floor will open up and swallow me whole.)

The hand in your hair relaxes, and his palm slides down to the back of your neck, fingers light as a feather. They hook your jaw, cupping your cheek. You think you’ll suffocate under the weight of his gaze on you.

Paul breaks the stare first, his eyes clinging to your mouth.

His thumb gently traces the outside of your lips, teasing your bottom lip. You hope he can’t feel how your pulse thunders against your neck, your heart threatening to escape your chest at his very touch.

(He definitely can.)

Heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway outside break the spell and you both freeze in a moment of panic. A familiar voice calls out for Paul, as you jump off him and he scrambles to his feet.

He looks around the room quickly, and seeing an old and dusty weapons storage closet, he grabs your hand and pulls you into it, shutting the heavy door as quietly as possible behind him.

Not a moment too soon, as you hear Gurney Halleck’s voice coming from the training room.

“Paul?”

After a beat of silence, Gurney sighs in frustration and you hear the training room doors click as he leaves.

You and Paul breathe a sigh of relief. You’ve both skipped out on one too many tutors this week, but the consequences can wait until…later.

Your eyes adjust to the lack of light in the closet. In the inky darkness, you feel Paul standing in front of you, so close in the cramped space that with each breath his chest flushes against yours. He smells of cedar, of bergamot, of honey. Comforting. Familiar. Paul.

What the hell just happened in that training room? You’re not willing to break the heavy silence first. Neither is he.

Instead, he kisses you.

Your mind goes blank as you feel his lips, softer than a pillow, press against yours. The kiss is gentle, shy, nothing like the fierce training you were practicing earlier, nothing like the commanding voice of the Atreides heir.

(Oh, fuck it.

Maybe it is happening.)

As Paul starts to pull away, you open your lips and kiss him back—feverish, hungry, devouring—your heart hammering out of your chest.

It was as if a rubber band had snapped, releasing whatever was holding either one of you back. He deepens the kiss, and you melt into it—his lips crashing against yours, his tongue tracing against your own. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth and softly pulls, wrenching a deep moan from you that he stifles with his lips.

His hands find your waist and he pushes you back against the wall, lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his middle as he presses into you, his hips slotting perfectly between them.

The sudden movement sends a rack of old weapons crashing down, a cacophony of metal and plasteel, undoubtedly ancient and expensive, startling you both.

He pulls back from you for a moment and breathes heavily, both of you straining to hear if anyone noticed. As you relax, he presses his forehead against yours. A stray curl brushes your lashes. If someone were to find you here, like this, you’re both good as dead for the foreseeable future.

In the darkness, your labored breaths intermingling, his voice comes out as barely a whisper.

“Is this alright?”

Your head spins and you think if you don’t have him right now, immediately, you might die.

Instead of answering, you grab Paul’s face and pull him back in for a kiss. He moans into you, a deep guttural groan, rolling his hips forward, starving hands roaming against breathless skin.

Heat pools in your stomach as he continues to roll his hips against yours, his lips plush and addicting. You knot your fingers into his unruly curls, gently tugging and the groan that leaves his lips is more holy than a hymn.

(Maybe you could stay like this forever.)

He peppers desperate butterfly kisses along your lips, along your jaw, along the length of your neck. As he presses his lips to your pulse in the crook of your neck, you hear him chuckle as you feel the thud-thud thud-thud thud-thud of your racing heartbeat.

His hands fall from your waist to cup your thighs as he continues to kiss and nip at your neck, grazing his teeth along your pulse, leaving barely a mark. The heat between your legs only grows, electricity shooting upwards with every push of his hips. Even through the layers of cloth you can feel him against you and every cell in your body screams more, more, more.

Paul’s hand slides up your inner thigh, and grazes a sensitive spot through the fabric of your underwear. Instinctively, you arch into it, but he stops and pins your back harder against the wall until you can’t move an inch, trapped by his arms and his presence.

You know he’s grinning like a devil in the dark. You don’t want to wipe it away this time.

He toys with the waistband of your underwear, slipping a finger behind the fabric, teasing in lazy, languid strokes. You whine softly, unspoken begs for more of his touch that set your cheeks ablaze and your head whirling.

“What is it?” Paul asks, lips at your neck, kissing at a delicate spot right under your jaw.

“Please,” you groan.

His breathing is ragged as he continues toying with your waistband, a teasing finger occasionally traveling down between your legs.

You think you’re going to die waiting.

“Please what?” He’s toying with you, his voice laced with honey.

If you do die, you’re going to drag him to hell with you.

But in between bruising kisses, all you manage is a whimper that Paul swallows with his kiss.

“Use your words, my star.”

His lips trace the shell of your ear sending electric shivers down your spine. His teeth tug slightly at the lobe and the world echoes until the only thing left is him and his hands and his voice.

“I need you, Paul,” you breathe, the words leaving your mouth before you even think of them, pulled out by his Voice, “Please.”

A lithe finger finally slips under the fabric, pushing it aside. His thumb traces hurried circles around your clit, everything already slick from his relentless teasing.

He presses his lips to yours again, silencing his own groans. Just as the knot in your stomach starts to build, he slides a finger down your slit, and you sigh at the loss of his rhythmic movement.

But you don’t have time to voice your discontent—you feel him slide one of his long fingers inside you and you press into his touch. You don’t even have time to think before another finger slips in and you feel the slight burning stretch. Your head falls back against the cold wall as you pant, and his hands work in and out, chasing your pleasure.

You dig your nails into his back. His hand works faster and faster, and in between whispered curses and pleading prayers you find your release.

Through the haze of your high and waves of bliss, you’re vaguely aware of Paul’s belt buckle falling to the ground, somewhere. In the tangle of roaming hands, messy hair and skin plastered with a thin sheen of sweat, Paul’s shirt buttons come undone — likely by your doing — and your own soaked underwear gets lost in the dark — definitely Paul’s doing.

However, you’re very aware of every inch of Paul as he slides himself into you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer over and over again.

“You’re doing so good for me, my star,” Paul sighs into your ear, his hips flush against yours, fully inside. “You’re doing so well.”

With every thrust of his hips, you welcome the feeling of fullness as your nails rake down his back, leaving delicate red marks and half-moon indentations. Every push, he reaches a deeper part of you, his hands guiding your hips to meet him again and again, goosebumps covering your skin at his feverish touch.

Through half lidded eyes, you see his silhouette in the dark, tousled dark curls haloed by a sliver of light from the doorframe, strong shoulders and toned arms keeping you pressed against the wall even as his hips stutter in his desperate rhythm inside you.

He falters and you feel him twitch, consequences be damned, as he sinks completely inside you, hands bruising your hips and voice groaning as his own release catches up to him.

He looks almost holy this way, completely undone inside you, and whispering your name as if it can save him.

(Maybe it can.)

[shockercoco]

Don't Mind Me

Timothee chalamet x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, cockwarming, oral (fem receiving), slight somnophilia, overstimulation, needy!timothee

Word count - 1430

a/n - request: "could u write a smut abt cockwarming timothee all night and then he fucks u early in the morning plzzzzzzzzzz" - there may or may not be errors because I kept changing some of the writing lol. also sorry this took a while, and I hope you enjoy :)

You rarely get to see Timothee since he travels basically all year round, but when you do the two of you make sure to make the most of it. This time he’s only in town for a couple of days, and one of the first things he had said to you, after arriving unannounced at your front door, was that he just wanted to be close to you.

To any other person, Timothee’s statement would be taken as an innocent thought, but you knew the underlying meaning to his words. 

The two of you had found yourselves in your bed in between the sheets making up for all the sexting and phone sex – which you weren’t a huge fan of because you felt awkward doing it. When the two of you had exhausted yourselves in the best way possible, Timothee suggested keeping his cock inside of you throughout the night. He didn’t want to be disconnected from you yet, and with you feeling the same way, you agreed.

The two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms, your warm walls keeping him company while he slept. Sometime throughout the night the two of you had drifted apart to opposite sides of the bed, so him being removed from you went unnoticed. 

That is until Timothee woke up the following morning with the sun just rising and came to the realization that his brilliant idea of cockwarming came with repercussions.. He looks down to see his painfully hard length staring back at him through the white sheets. Timothee hesitates for a second before using a hand to squeeze his cock through the thin fabric, in hopes that it would be enough to make it go away, but of course it wasn’t. 

After switching to palming himself and not receiving enough satisfaction, he then spits into his hand and decides to stick his hand underneath the sheets to lightly stroking himself. His tip is an angry shade and he’s already leaking from the opening. He throws his head back against the pillow as he thrusts up into his own hand, beginning to feel miserable and pathetic.

It isn’t until you make a noise and shift a little in your sleep when Timothee glances over at you and remembers that you're beside him. He finally settles on the fact that he needs you and begins to sit up, his cock still in his hand. After all, you had talked about wanting him to use you in your sleep, so why not seize the opportunity?

“Fuck it,” he murmurs to himself.

Timothee tries to be quiet as he pushes the covers off of your body and slowly moves downwards. He carefully pushes your legs apart to reveal your pussy to him, your body still bare from the night before. His eyes roll at the sight in front of him and that smell that he loves before diving in and attaching his mouth to you.

He can’t help but moan to himself as he moves his tongue up and down your folds, savoring the taste. Not being able to wait anymore, Timothee sticks his tongue into your opening and begins to tongue-fuck you. Having you in his mouth only turns him on more though, so he starts to move his hips against the mattress, humping to relieve some of the tension between his own legs.

Meanwhile, in your sleep you’re having a wet dream, not knowing that your boyfriend is between your thighs causing said dream. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you take a look down to see Timothee with his eyes closed and his hips thrusting into the mattress as he pleasures you.

It takes a second for your brain to start running, but when you become aware of what's happening between your legs, you can’t help but feel turned on, and also a little confused. 

Timothee opens his eyes once he feels your body move as you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at the situation unfolding. He pulls away from your folds with a pitiful expression on his face to say, “I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t help it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer as he attaches his mouth to you again and continues. You let out a small moan as his lips latch on to your flit and begin sucking. You glance over at the clock on your nightstand for the time only to realize it’s only seven o’clock in the morning.

“I guess it’s never too early to satisfy your needs,” you think.

After deciding that eating you out isn’t enough, Timothee removes his mouth from you and sits up on his knees, revealing his hard length to you. You notice the precum already seeping from his top and the veins bulging on the shaft. 

“I really need you,” Timothee tells you, looking as desperate as ever.

You cover up your smirk with a smile as you look up at him hovering. You nod. “Go ahead, it’s okay,” you say, and that’s all he needs to hear as he grabs himself in one hand, lines himself up, and plunges into you.

Both of your mouths fall open - his from finally being surrounded by your tight, warm walls, and yours from the shock of the sudden insertion.

Timothee lets out a strangled moan as he begins thrusting into you, helping himself to your welcoming walls. He wraps his arms around you and covers your body with his, and you open your legs wider to help him go deeper.

He plunges into you repeatedly with need as dips his head into your neck, filling your ear up with his whimpers and whines. You wrap your arms around him as he pushes you deeper and deeper into the mattress. The sound of his hips meeting yours echoes through the room, along with the wet sound of your pussy. 

“I’m going to cum,” he warns as his thrusts get faster and sloppier.

“Please do,” you tell him. 

It’s only a few moments later that he comes, holding your body tight and letting out a deep groan as he fills you with his load. He doesn’t stop there though, he continues thrusting into you despite now being sensitive, helping you chase your own high.

Your back arches into him as you orgasm nears, soon followed by you cumming around his cock as your body trembles under his.

“Fuck,”  Timothee whimpers as he feels your walls flutter and clench around him.

While you're coming down from your high, Timothee feels his second orgasm rising through his body. He decides to flip the two of you over, wanting you to ride him. 

“I can’t,” you whine, feeling weak and tired from your climax. 

“Please, baby,” he pleads up at you, giving your hips a squeeze as he bucks his hips up into you.

You hesitate but you give in to him, motivated by his desperation for your body. You place your hands on his chest as you begin to move, causing him to throw his head back into the pillows, his grip still on your hips.

Taking a glance down, you notice the remnants of his and your orgasm forming a white ring around the base of his cock.

Once Timothee notices your body starting to give out, he takes matters into his own hands and begins thrusting up into. Your mouth falls open at the pace, your body already undergoing overstimulation. 

When he reaches a hand down between your legs and begins rubbing circles on your clit, your body jerks from the added stimulation. The combination of his fingers on you and him moving inside of you is enough for you to instantly reach your climax, hitting you like a huge wave crashing into you and bringing you under. You collapse onto Timothee’s chest as your orgasm makes its way through your body, no longer having the energy to keep your body upright.

Timothee wraps his hands around your body, holding you firmly against his chest as he makes his way towards his second orgasm. You allow your body to go limp in his arms, letting him use you in whatever way he pleases.

As he cums, his hips stutter as he continues to thrust through his orgasm. You moan as you feel his warm load shoot into you for the second time and leak out of you and onto him. Once Timothee’s hips finally come to a stop, you stay lying on his chest, not ready for the feeling of him pulling out of your sensitive cunt.

like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[starlightsuffered]

Make Her Finish (Hal)

Info - possessive Hal, horny Hal, discussing waiting till marriage to have sex, high sex drive, Hal being insecure, discussing faking orgasms, Hal not being verbal during sex, knife play, carving initials in skin, cutting away clothing, spitting in mouth, demanding praise, unprotected sex, accusing someone of faking an orgasm, ass slapping, slapping cock on body, injury, licking blood

"It is so good to see you sister," I said smiling.

"Yes, I was gone a long time, but it was well worth it. Edward is the love of my life. You must thank Hal for introducing us," she smiled.

"That's wonderful. I know you were waiting for your wedding night," I said. With how voracious Hal's sex drive was that hadn't been a possibility for us and I was happier for it. My sister had saved herself. "Was it all you dreamed?"

Her expression soured and she looked out the window. The grip on her tea cup tightened.

"He has, he has yet to me make me finish," she said dismally.

"What have you done?" | asked in genuine fascination. Hal never had this issue. I wondered what he would do if I didn't?

"I've been faking," she sighed.

"Faking? How would one even do that?"

"You moan and say you feel good and make your walls contract, it seems to work well," she said sheepishly.

"You need to tell him!" | urged.

"Why?" She asked. "He'll only be upset."

"Or he would try to get better," | offered.

"But, can you get better?"

"Absolutely, I've told Hal everything I like and he's given into my requests. I'm not sure what the monarch would do if he had found l'd faked an orgasm," | chuckled.

Very soon after my last sentence my husband came stalking into the room. I knew the lust filled look in his eyes.

"Do you need me your highness?" | asked immediately.

"Yes!" He said, and dragged me from the room. My sister seemed astonished but Hal was like this. He wasn't used to having his desires ignored. If he wanted something, he went and got it.

Once in his chambers I was thrown against the wall. He was always rough with me and I adored it. He kissed me hard and I gave him the same force. He lifted my skirts and harshly pressed my clit. He swallowed my whimper.

He broke our kiss to get his sword.

"You know, one day you'll empty the crown's treasury with all the dresses of mine you need to replace," ! chuckled. He loved cutting my clothing away instead of dealing with the skirts and lacing.

I could finally breath properly with the corset slit. Sure a little more belly protruded, but Hal often went on and on about my natural form. He was disrobing quickly.

He threw me over his shoulder, landing a smack to my ass. I adored it when he threw me down and was over me in an instant. His eyes were darker than I'd ever seen.

He grabbed my jaw, forcing open my mouth. He spat into my mouth, but kept it open so he could speak his words into it.

"Im going to fuck you, and all the the while you will tell me how good I feel," he said darkly into my mouth. I nodded obediently. He let go and I swallowed his saliva.

"Yes my King," I swore. He sheathed himself inside me after slapping both my thighs with my cock.

"Hal, you're so deep," | whined as he began to rut into me at a nearly unimaginable speed. He plunged in and out of my hurriedly. I heard his little grunt of effort and traced his popping veins. He was really pushing himself.

"You're so good at this. You were made for sex my lord, the length and girth of your cock, the speed you always have, the selflessness of the pleasure you provide," | praised him.

"Oh, fuck, your cock is the only thing that could make the Queen swear," I moaned as I writhed. He pulled out with a wet sound and I whined.

"Hal, what's going on?" I asked. He got his dagger. His eyes looked wild, he was in a different mind frame than me obviously. He was all desperation. He didn't even have the foresight to use the handle, instead he gripped the blade of the dagger, and without pushing too hard, carved his initials into my upper thigh. It only stung a little and his possessiveness made it worth it. He threw the dagger away and plunged back into me.

"Oh yes my king I'm yours, brand me if you like," I said bringing his injured hand to me. I let my tongue flick over the two parallel bloody lines. He let out a whimper at the sight.

'So good to me Hal, how do you outdo yourself every time?" | asked and he began to come, his expression bliss filled. I felt my eyes roll back into my head as his cock hit my g spot over and over. My walls clenched him. I sucked on his bloody hand as I came undone, my walls convulsing uncontrollably.

"That was amazing my King, but I do wish you would have talked more, I love your voice. I must ask though, it seemed like you were trying to prove something. Is there something on your mind?" I asked.

"You told your sister you faked an orgasm with me," he said softly.

"I did not!"

"You said you didn't know what l'd do if I knew," he countered.

"That was hypothetical. I've never NEVER had to fake with you. Every one is incredibly real. Her husband wasn't pleasing her and I was in wonder because you always do it perfectly," I said.

"Oh, sorry about your leg then," he said and bent to kiss the spot he'd cut.

"I don't mind," I smirked. "I like being marked as yours."

"I love you," he moaned.

[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.“