#paul atreides cuddles

[crescenthistory]

in the silence, there is an us

Pairing: Paul Atreides x Reader

Summary: Throughout their lives, Paul and reader have often found themselves in each other's bed. Childish games after bedtime, late-night studying sessions, nightmares, and a burning need to not be apart.

Part of Paul's point of view can be read here: "you are my favourite silence"

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: not proofread, possibly some inaccuracies about plot details (have not watched dune in ages, i'm just obsessed with paul), best friends to lover, tension, light angst, jessica being a bit rude, reader being an orphan and of a lower social rank, duke leto's death (rip), lots of cuddles and lingering touches, fluff, the whole deal

***

The grand halls of Castle Caladan always had an eerie stillness after sunset. The select servants walked quietly, the sound of waves crashing below barely made its way through the stone walls, and the Duke and Lady Jessica kept to their quarters. For Paul and you, though, this was the perfect time to sneak past the sternness of bedtime. The day never seems long enough for young children whose eyes are still filled with stars.

“Come on!” Paul’s whisper was loud, almost too loud for sneaking around, but you didn’t think long enough to care. The thrill of the game was enough to make both of your hearts race. You were barefoot, your steps making soft thuds against the cool floor as you tiptoed through the hall toward his room.

“If we get caught—” you whispered, but Paul cut you off with a grin.

“We won’t. Besides, who can stop us?”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky confidence. He wasn’t wrong, though. You had never been good at staying still, at obeying the invisible rules set up by adults. With no living relatives to share your name, Paul was more than just a best friend – he was all you had. Him and Duke Leto, whose unwavering sense of duty made him take you in at the Castle when your parents died on a mission he orchestrated. Responsibility above all else, all the qualities he aimed at instilling in his young son. And it couldn’t hurt Paul to have a friend his own age, could it? 

You slipped into his room, both of you giggling like you’d just played the best prank on his sleeping parents. His bed was huge for a 7-year-old, more space than one boy could ever need regardless of his nobility. Tonight, it was your playground, stretching for miles.

Paul scrambled up first, then turned and offered you his hand. “Bet you I can jump higher than you,” he said, a challenge clear in his eyes.

You took his hand, pulling yourself up and laughing as the two of you bounced on the mattress, trying to outdo each other in height and bravery. You weren’t worried about waking anyone. Even if Duke Leto found you – and he often did – his stern reprimands were laced with amusement.

This was not the first time the two children had snuck into each other’s rooms after dark, the activity becoming more habit than occasion. Nights like this were your shared rebellion, a refusal to let the day end just because the sun had gone down, just because Jessica had tucked Paul into bed an hour earlier for bedtime.

Eventually, after you had worn yourselves out, you collapsed side by side on the bed, your breaths heavy from laughter. You stared up at the ceiling, still giggling as the adrenaline began to fade.

“I don’t want it to be bedtime ever again,” Paul said, his voice soft, almost wistful.

You turned your head to look at him, sprawled out on the massive mattress, dark hair in his eyes that reflected the dim moonlight streaming through the window. You understood exactly what he meant.

“Me neither,” you replied with a smile. Your hand found his under the covers.

Neither of you moved as your true bedtime took over, the quiet settling in around you, comfortable and warm. You fell asleep like that, fingers intertwined, with no concept of what it meant to have boundaries. There was just Paul, and you, and the night that was never long enough.

  ***

In the wake of your early teens at the castle, sneaking into each other’s rooms had become less about rebellion and more about comfort. The innocence of bouncing on beds and stifled laughter gave way to whispered conversations in the dark and the shared weight of fears neither of you quite understood yet.

The first time Paul came to your room because of a nightmare, it startled you. You were just about to drift off when you heard the soft creak of your door, followed by the quiet patter of feet. You jerked up from the mess of blankets, blinking into the darkness. Confusion and perhaps a bit of fear grasped you, until you saw his silhouette standing near the edge of your bed.

“Paul?” you whispered, straightening up. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer at first, he didn’t know how. With his tense expression and shadows playing across his face, he looked haunted despite his still small, boy-like frame. You knew him in and out by now, and could clearly read the signs of his nails digging into the skin of his fingers, breathing shallow and uneven. 

“Can I stay?” His voice was rougher than usual, like he was barely holding it together.

“Of course.”

You didn’t ask any questions, it was a silent understanding. Instead, you lifted the blanket, making room for him. He crawled in without hesitation, laying his head on the pillow on your left. His body rigid beside yours for a moment before he relaxed, the tension slowly draining away.

Lying there, you listened to the sound of his breathing steadying, feeling the warmth of his presence next to you, arm against arm. It was quiet, but not silent – the kind of quiet that only existed when you knew someone else was there with you. Someone who understood. Someone who would never judge you for being afraid.

In his newfound safety, Paul drifted off easier than he could in his own bed. Yours was significantly smaller, but somehow softer, and he could actually feel the weight of you beside him on the mattress. He could ground himself in your presence. When he fell asleep, his head fell slightly to the side, his hair brushing against your cheek. 

You, on the other hand, stayed awake a little longer, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts racing. 

You’d always been each other’s rock, but now, something was different. The comfort you found in his presence was deeper, more profound. It wasn’t just about not wanting to be alone anymore, it was about needing him specifically. It brought a smile to your face to know that he found that same assurance in you.

***

The weights on your shoulders materialised and became clearer as you grew beside each other. At sixteen, the favours Duke Leto had bestowed upon you by allowing you residence and education at Caladan felt like a debt more than a blessing. One you had to repay through excellence, through true devotion to any and all training given to you. While Paul tried to seem more lighthearted about it all, it could be felt in the air all the same. You were no longer just two children sneaking around a castle that seemed to never end. You were a future duke and a noblewoman-in-training, navigating a world that seemed to have its eyes on you at every moment.

To earn your gifted title and position and prove yourself worthy of your place as Paul’s friend, you poured over every textbook your teachers assigned you. The study of Caladan, of politics, traditions and customs occupied your mind to the extent that you neglected the occupant of your heart. 

Yet, at late hours, it was always Paul’s bedroom floor the pair found themselves splayed across. 

Sheets of notes, pens and books layed on top of themselves in a system neither of you could have been able to explain to an outsider. Paul against the wall with his notebook, you stomach-down on the carpet, nose buried between the words in your textbook.

“You’re going to wear yourself out.” Paul’s words were muttered, watching you through tired eyes.

You shook your head. “I’m fine. Just one more chapter.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

“I mean it this time.”

Paul didn’t argue, but you could feel his eyes on you as you worked, his presence a quiet comfort beside you. It had become routine, the two of you studying together, you claimed you worked better that way. Paul occasionally asking questions while you tried to focus on your own work but more often than not, you ended up helping him instead of yourself.

Your one-more-chapter became two more as you tried to retain the information, but your eyelids grew heavier, your focus slipping. The same sentence became burned into your retinas without making much more sense.

Ever so slowly, your head was brought closer and closer to the ink. Eventually it was all you could see before your cheek hit the page – you were out as a light.

Paul watched you for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. This was not the first time. He closed his own book and moved quietly to your side. He brought a finger up to brush some of your hair out of your face before he rolled you over. Gently, he lifted you, careful not to wake you as he carried you to the bed. His bed.

It had almost become part of the routine, he watches you exhaust yourself and then ensures you get the rest you deserve. He had done this before, but each time, it made his chest tighten more in ways he didn’t fully understand.

As he laid you down delicately, he hesitated by your side for just a moment, watching the rise and fall of your chest, the peaceful expression on your face. He didn’t realise how often he found himself staring at you like this, wondering when the girl who used to be his playmate had become someone he couldn’t stop thinking about. Someone he wanted to protect, to keep close, even as you worked yourself to the bone. He wanted to tell you you didn’t have to, that he knew and that you were enough. Instead, he let his instinct win and lightly caressed the soft flesh of your arm.

After a brief pause, Paul pulled the covers over you and sat on your edge of the bed for a while longer. He was tired himself, but he didn’t want to move. Not just yet.

***

The past few months felt as if they stretched on for years with how much change and development you were faced with, almost forcefully. Despite your efforts, the older you got, the more you felt like a young girl attempting to parade as a grown woman ready for whatever duties Duke Leto sees fit of you, as a “noblewoman” without any true blood given nobility. 

Paul had been dancing around your worries for a while now, cutting off your worried rants with funny quips and dragging you from the library or training room to the beach when he believed you too worrisome. However, his duties were catching up to him as well, even when he tried to balance on the beam with you. He would be a duke one day, and though he had acted like a prince all his life, this was much more real.

His duties were specifically catching up to him in the form of one Lady Jessica. Reminders, comments, requests to his teachers and staff. She wanted him to start becoming the man he needs to be.

One of her lectures was playing out before your eyes in the library, though it escaped you how it even began. The soft, rhythmic drumming of the rain against the high windows felt like the one thing tethering you this world as she spoke, shadows cast across her face. 

Lady Jessica’s voice sliced through the rain, calm but pointed. Leaving the air around you feeling heavy. You sat at a table beside Paul, as she stood above you, a judge passing through your reading session. Her sharp eyes, blue within blue, never seemed to miss anything.

She had always watched you carefully, ever since you were children – though it wasn’t until recently that you noticed how her gaze lingered on you. Emotion indecipherable, yet somehow your stomach seared from it. She was assessing you on criteria it felt you had no control over. 

“You’re both approaching the age where things will change,” Jessica said, her gaze flicking between you and Paul. Her tone was deceptively gentle, like the calm before a storm. “You can no longer afford to be... careless.”

There was a long pause, a silence that felt charged with unspoken meaning. Paul shifted beside you, and though you didn’t look at him, you could feel the tension in the way he carried himself, alert, almost defensive.

“I’m not just speaking about duties to the House or the formalities expected of you as you come of age.” Lady Jessica’s eyes rested on you, sharp and assessing. “I’m also speaking about the way you conduct yourselves in your personal relationships.”

Your heart stuttered at the implication, warmth creeping up the back of your neck. You did not wish to dig into the meaning behind her words.

This was not the first time she’d given such a lecture, but it was the first time it felt so personal. So aimed. It was understood she must be referring to the hours upon hours you spent together, including in the moonlight. The quiet moments where you and Paul sought each other out, clinging to your comfort when the world felt too heavy to bear alone.

It was never intended to be anything inappropriate. You were each other’s safety nets, just like you had always been. But still, you felt a pang of shame coil in your chest at the thought of it being seen that way.

“You have been given responsibilities that go beyond your own desires,” Jessica continued, turning slightly toward Paul. “You are the heir to the House of Atreides, Paul. Every decision you make now, every relationship you allow to develop, can impact that legacy.”

Paul’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, you risked a glance at him. His face was unreadable, but the tension in his posture betrayed his discomfort. His eyes flicked to you, worry clouding them more than annoyance at his mother’s words. He searched your face for something, and did not seem happy with what he saw, but you ripped your gaze away a mere second after.

He was not thinking about his legacy. In that moment, all he thought about was you and how you were feeling.

Your stomach twisted, and the weight of it all – the difference in your status, the expectations that shadowed both your lives – seemed too much. Lady Jessica was not wrong, and Gods did you hate it. You glanced down, willing the words to settle somewhere far away, somewhere that wouldn’t hurt so much.

“You must understand,” Jessica said, her voice softer now, but no less firm, “the time for childish games is over. It’s time for both of you to take your roles more seriously. The future will not wait for you to be ready.”

The words hit you harder than they should have, like a reprimand for something you had not yet done but already felt guilty about. You wanted to say something, anything to show that you understood, that you weren’t some distraction pulling Paul away from his responsibilities, but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you nodded stiffly, keeping your eyes trained on the floor.

Jessica gave a tight-lipped smile you did not see, before turning around to take her leave, pleased with the efficiency of your talk. She was gone, her robes whispering against the stone floor as she left you alone with the silence she had created between you two.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The weight of Jessica’s words still hung heavy in the room, thickening the air between you. You could feel Paul’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, not yet.

“She didn’t mean it like that,” Paul finally said, his voice low and careful, like he was testing the waters.

When you did not respond, Paul let out a soft sigh, moving his body towards you. “She’s just worried. That’s all. My mother—”

“Your mother is always worried,” you cut in, more sharply than you intended. You could feel the weight of it all pressing down on you. The constant reminders of how you didn’t quite fit into this world of nobility and politics, how your presence was tolerated but not truly embraced by the one woman you wished to be on your side. “And maybe she has a point. I’ve been distracting you. I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t keep coming to you.”

You did not elaborate, you did not need to.

Paul’s expression tightened, and before you could move away, he reached out, gently gripping your hands between his. His touch was warm, grounding, but you tried not to let yourself sink into it.

“No,” he said, his voice firm now. “You haven’t been distracting me. You’ve... you’ve been keeping me sane. It’s not the same thing.”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head again. “But your mother thinks—”

“I don’t care what my mother thinks.”

The words were out of Paul’s mouth before he could stop them, and for a moment, he looked almost startled by his own admission. He blinked, as if trying to make sense of his own boldness, before his grip on your hands tightened just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours.

“I don’t care what she thinks about the time we spend together,” he said, quieter this time, but no less intense. “She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning, like the world’s pressing in from every side, and you’re just. Alone.”

You looked up at him then, your breath catching at the rawness in his voice. Paul never let anyone see him like this—not even you most of the time, not fully. But now, there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Desperation, maybe. Or something deeper, something unspoken.

“Whenever I’m with you, it’s the only time I don’t feel that way,” he continued, his voice low, like he was sharing a secret he’d been keeping for too long. “You’re not a distraction. You’re the only thing that keeps me steady.”

Your chest tightened, torn between the overwhelming urge to believe him and the guilt that had been festering inside you since Jessica’s words. You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes made it impossible to say any words out loud.

So instead, you swallowed your thoughts, pressing them deep down where they couldn’t be reached.

“We just need to be more careful,” you said softly, pulling your hands away from his grasp. Your skin still tingled where his fingers had been. “Your mother’s right. We can’t keep hiding away in each other’s rooms. We can’t... we can’t keep acting like kids.”

Paul’s face fell, the tension in his shoulders sagging slightly. His now-free hands went up to rub at his face before he sighed. “But we’re not acting like kids.”

“Aren’t we?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “We’re literally sneaking into each other’s beds in the middle of the night, Paul. We’re still pretending like nothing’s changed.”

Paul was quiet for a long moment, his eyes flicking away from you, as if he couldn’t bring himself to argue. Maybe because deep down, he knew you were right.

But then, just as the silence between you started to feel unbearable, he spoke again, his voice quieter, but full of conviction.

“Nothing has changed though. Not between us.”

The words lingered in the air, and for the first time in a long while, you didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to cling to the idea that no matter what the world threw at you, no matter what Lady Jessica said, you and Paul would always be the same. The same two people who had spent years leaning on each other, who had always been there to catch each other when the ground fell away.

Yet, you knew what Paul’s wishful thinking sounded like more than anyone else. You knew everything about him. And in this moment, you knew he was wrong. No matter how much you both tried to ignore it, the future was closing in around you.

“I should go,” you said quietly, getting up from your seat before he could say or do anything to stop you. “I need to think.”

Paul didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes was enough to keep you rooted in place for just a moment longer, looking down at him. He still looked so young, his eyes so wide. That familiar ache settled in your chest, the same ache that came whenever you thought about what you were trying so hard not to lose.

“I will see you tomorrow,” you said, and with that you left him to sit with the sound of rain drops against glass.

After Jessica’s most pointed lecture, your unease at night, the one you and Paul seemed cursed to be forever plagued by as children of the castle, had only increased. You woke in cold sweat or you did not wake at all ��� regardless, you stayed in your own bed, never venturing down that familiar path in the hallway. You hugged your knees for comfort. 

You were a proper young woman. As you ought to be.

Nothing could get you and Paul to stop spending time with each other entirely though, not his mother and certainly not complicated feelings. There was already a lot of that flowing around anyway.

Classes, meals, walks around the hallways, the occasional silent moment watching the waves side by side in a large window. Never late-night visits. Never lingering too much, especially not around Jessica. 

She seemed pleased with your development, so you bit your cheek and played the part.

It had been months since either of you crossed that invisible boundary, but the comfort of those nights lingered in your minds, a shared memory you couldn’t quite let go of. One that you held tight on rough nights.

Ironically enough, it was the nights without thunder or storms that you struggled the most. Gripped by fear and horror, you fought through the worst nightmare you had experienced in many years. Mangled bodies, fire and smoke, Paul’s face distorted by sandstorms that you swear you could feel cut into your fragile skin like class.

The scream was lodged in your throat as you shot up, finally able to pull yourself out of the depths of your consciousness of all that has happened and all you fear will. Drowning in sweat and tears, violently trembling all over, you suddenly found yourself on your feet in the cold hallway.

No coherent thoughts were running through your head, just instinct and an intense need to be saved from your own mind. Even in a waking state, you still felt half infused in the nightmare, seeing the scenes when you blink, as if tattooed on your eyelids.

Almost running down the known path, your hand grazing the wall as you went to stabilise yourself. The rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t appropriate, that you should listen to Jessica, you were both too old to be doing this – but you were not in a rational state of mind right now. Right now you were the same scared little girl you have always been, the one you fear you always will be, and you knew what you needed to do to quiet her screams. 

When you reached his door, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle. What if he didn’t want this anymore? What if he would turn you away?

Before you could second-guess yourself further, the door creaked open, and there he was. Paul stood in the doorway, lit up from behind by a single candle on his nightstand. His eyes were wide as he took the sight of you in, but there was no real surprise etched on his face. However, if you weren’t mistaken, you thought you saw relief in it. Like he had been waiting for you, hoping for you to come.

Paul breathed your name out like a ‘thank you’, stepping aside to let you in before you could even speak. His hair was dishevelled, his shirt wrinkled from where he must have been lying awake, staring at the tall ceiling.

You slipped in past him, already feeling some tension leave your body as soon as the door closed behind you. You weren’t sure what to say. Maybe you didn’t need to say anything at all. Letting your eyes meet his, the look on Paul’s face told you everything you needed to know.

Without a word, you moved toward the bed, and Paul followed, his presence a warm, steadying force behind you. He didn’t ask you any questions, he didn’t need to. You both knew that whatever it was, it was enough to bring you here, to him. 

You hesitated for just a moment, feeling the weight of the years between you. When you were children, there had been no second thoughts, no hesitation. But now, voices were creeping in – but you shoved them aside like his blankets, and climbed into his bed.

When Paul slid into bed beside you, everything felt right again.

The tension in your body melted away as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. You could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, feel the warmth of his skin against yours, and suddenly, the fear that had gripped you moments ago faded into nothing.

You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes as the last of your tremors subsided. He was your anchor, your constant in a world that was rapidly spinning out of control.

“Are you okay?” Paul finally asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper.

You nodded against him, but your throat felt tight, your words stuck behind the weight of everything unsaid. The nightmare had shaken you more than you wanted to admit, and it wasn’t just about the dark images in your head. It was the fear of losing Paul, of losing the one person who had been by your side for as long as you could remember.

“I’m glad you came,” Paul said quietly. “I wanted to come to you, but—” He trailed off, his hand tightening slightly on your shoulder as if to ground himself.

“I know,” you whispered, finally finding your voice. “I wanted to come sooner.”

There was a pause, and then, after a long moment, Paul’s thumb began tracing slow circles on your arm, his touch gentle but deliberate. It was a gesture of comfort, of familiarity. 

“I’ll always be here,” he murmured, so softly you almost didn’t hear him. “I swear it.”

You opened your eyes and tilted your head up, meeting his gaze in the dim light. His face was serious, his eyes reflecting the weight of the promise he’d just made. For a brief second, you thought he might say more, something you’d been waiting for but weren’t ready to confront. 

Instead, Paul’s expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, the gesture tender, reassuring. It was something he might have done when you were younger, but now it felt different. It wasn’t just comfort anymore—it was a part of the promise.

Neither of you said anything after that. You simply held each other, letting the quiet settle in. The world outside might have been shifting, changing in ways neither of you could control, but here, in the stillness of the night, there was nothing but you and Paul.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, only that, for the first time in a long while, you felt safe. And unfortunately, as the next few days would ensure, it was the last time for a long while as well.

***

When Arrakis claimed Duke Leto, it also claimed something inside Paul.

He wasn’t the same after that day. The boy who had been your partner in rebellion, the one who made you laugh even in the darkest of times, had hardened. His grief was silent, buried under layers of duty and survival, but you could see it. It was in the way his hands trembled ever so slightly when he thought no one was looking, the way his eyes had dulled since your arrival on this cursed planet.

In the middle of it all, you felt lost too. You had lost the closest you had to a father figure in Duke Leto, but worse, you were losing Paul—bit by bit, day by day, as he was forced to become someone you struggled to recognise. This was a different kind of nightmare, one you couldn’t wake from.

After growing used to the luxury of Caladan Castle’s beddings, you found yourself huddled with Paul in a small tent in the middle of the desert, the harsh winds of Arrakis howling outside. There was nothing but sand for miles, and for the first time since arriving on this planet, you felt truly untethered from the life you once knew.

Paul sat across from you, his back pressed against the rough fabric of the tent, his face half-shadowed by the faint light from a small glowglobe. His eyes were distant, fixed on something you couldn’t see, something only he could comprehend.

“Paul?” you whispered, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

He didn’t answer at first, but then, slowly, his gaze shifted to you. There was a fragility there that caught you off guard—a vulnerability that reminded you of the boy you used to sneak around the castle with, the one who used to chase away your fears with a single glance.

Without thinking, you moved closer, kneeling in front of him. His breath hitched as you reached out, gently placing one hand on his arm and the other on his cheek. He looked down at your fingers, as if surprised by the touch, before his eyes met yours again.

You wanted to say something, anything at all, to ease his pain. To take some of the burden off his shoulders, even if that meant taking them upon your own. No words felt worthy enough and died in your throat, while the sentiment remained hot on your tongue.

With Arrakis raging around you, you wanted him to feel some sense of security.

“I’m still here,” you whispered, echoing the words he had said to you when you were the one needing the comfort.

For a moment, he just stared at you. Then, with a twitch of his lips, something cracked in his expression, something that had been carefully held in place to keep it all in. Paul’s shoulders sagged, the weight of loss and doom pressing down on him all at once.

He didn’t say anything, but when you shifted closer and pulled him into your arms, he didn’t resist. He simply let you hold him, his head resting against your shoulder, his breath shaky and uneven.

You sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s presence as the storm outside raged on. The world around you was crumbling, but here, in the faux quiet of the tent, there was nothing but the two of you. You didn’t have words for what you were feeling, but it didn’t matter. Paul understood. He always had.

As if the continued touch broke him, Paul made a sound like a tear-less sob, saving water while still drowning in emotion. His arms tightened around you, holding onto you for dear life.

He murmured something against your neck that you couldn’t hear. You made an inquisitive humming sound as you began to stroke his back, coaxing him through his pain.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered. His voice was raw, it sent ripples through your heart. “Please.”

“You won’t,” you promised, your fingers moving up to card through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Paul. I’ll be right here with you.”

If he wanted to answer, he couldn’t. Instead he let himself have this moment before facing a world that seemed increasingly too big.

***

Life among the Fremen was harsh, unforgiving, but the two of you had learned to survive. It had been weeks since you arrived in the sietch, and every day felt like a battle—against the elements, against the constant threat of danger, against the growing distance between you and the boy you grew up with.

The desert night was deceptively cool, the air carrying a sharpness that contrasted with the oppressive heat of the day. You stood just outside the sietch, gazing up at the unfamiliar stars that stretched endlessly above the dunes. The sky was clear—almost too clear—so different from the comforting overcast of Caladan, the gentle crash of waves a memory long lost to the wind. You inhaled deeply, trying to ground yourself, but the vastness of the desert made you feel small. Disconnected.

There were few quiet moments here, and you took a deep breath as you were surrounded by it.

“I thought I’d find you here.” 

There was a shuffle of footsteps behind you, soft but deliberate. Without turning, you of course knew it was Paul. He came up behind you, standing slightly to your left so you could see him in your sideview. You leaned back, resting your shoulder on his own.

You smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Paul laughed lowly – some things never change. “Neither could I.”

You shook your head, still staring at the stars. “I don’t know if I’ve had a proper night’s sleep since we left Caladan.”

“I miss the rain,” Paul said quietly. “I never thought I would. I used to complain about it when we were kids.”

You smiled faintly. “Don’t lie, you hated being inside when it rained. You’d drag me out into the mud even when it was pouring.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Well, you never said no.”

“I never could.”

There was a pause, one that carried the weight of the past few months – Arrakis, the loss of Duke Leto, the constant struggle for survival. The two of you had grown so used to moving, fighting, planning for the next step, that there had been no time to sit with your grief. No time to just be, in the way you only can with each other.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Paul murmured, glancing at you sideways. “How quickly everything changes. A few months ago, we were on Caladan, complaining about studies, sneaking into each other’s rooms like we always used to... and now–”

“We’re here,” you finished for him, your voice quieter. “In the middle of the desert.”

Paul’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You’d been through so much together, seen so much of each other, in ways no one else had. Yet there was still a distance between you now, a hesitation that hadn’t been there when you were younger. 

It was as though you both knew you were standing on the edge of something, but neither of you dared to cross it.

“I was thinking...” Paul started, his voice trailing off. He looked away, frowning slightly as if choosing his words carefully. “Would it be... strange if you stayed with me tonight? Just for comfort, I mean.”

Your heart skipped, somehow caught off guard by the question. There had been so many nights, both as children and as teenagers, where you had found solace in each other’s company. Whether from nightmares, from stress, or simply because being apart felt wrong.

“Not strange, anyone would need a bit of comfort in our situation,” you tried at humour before looking back at him with soft eyes. 

He didn’t say anything, seemingly trapped between his thoughts. Usually when you spend the night together lately it was because of difficult emotions. You open the door for him to talk about his feelings.

“Are you– are you okay?” you asked, searching his face for the answer. 

Paul was always the one holding everything together, always taking on the weight of his responsibilities without complaint. But tonight, standing under the cold desert sky, he seemed tired. Tired in a way that went beyond just sleepless nights.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked out over the dunes, his expression unreadable, though the subtle tightening of his jaw told you he was wrestling with something.

“I’ve been thinking about my father,” he finally said, his voice thick with the grief he rarely let slip. “About everything he wanted for me. For us. How he wanted me to be a ruler who led with compassion, but how can I...?” He trailed off, swallowing hard, and you could see the battle raging behind his eyes.“I don’t know if I can be what he wanted.”

Your heart ached at his words. You had always known Paul felt the weight of his future, but you hadn’t realised how deeply it cut. Stepping closer, you touched his arm lightly, drawing his attention back to you.

“You already are,” you said softly. “Even in the middle of all this, Paul, you haven’t lost that part of yourself. Your father would see that.”

He exhaled shakily, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the world fell away. There was a vulnerability there, one he rarely let show. It made something inside you shift, as though the careful lines you had mentally drawn to protect yourself, to keep things unchanged between you, were suddenly blurring.

“I’m just afraid of losing more,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of losing everyone I care about. Losing you.”

The words settled heavily in the space between you, a truth that had always lingered but was now undeniable. You were no longer just childhood friends. You were no longer just companions trying to survive. There was a throne in your heart, and on it, Paul was more than just a duke. 

“You won’t lose me,” you said firmly, turning towards him and stepping even closer. “You couldn’t. I’m here, Paul, I’ve always been here.”

Paul stared at you, his expression shifting into something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes softened, the hard edges that had been carved into him by grief and duty melting away, if only for a moment. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you now, something that had been building for years but had never quite been said aloud.

“You don’t understand,” Paul whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t lose you. Not just because you’re the last piece of Caladan I have left... but because I—”

He stopped, his throat working as if the words were too hard to say. But you knew what he meant. You’d always known, hadn’t you? 

Paul took a step closer, the last step separating his body from yours. His hand lifted to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers lingered at the base of your neck, and you were sure he could feel the rapid beat of your heart in your pulsepoint. It echoed the weight of what he wasn’t saying. 

“You can say it,” you whispered, your voice trembling, though you weren’t sure if it was from fear or anticipation.

Paul’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of stepping back, of retreating into that familiar space where he could hide from the truth. But then his palm made contact with the side of your neck, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. Breathing in deeply, slowly.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words tumbling out like a secret he had been holding onto for too long. “I have loved you for so long, and I didn’t even realise it. But now, I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

Your heart stuttered at the confession, your breath catching in your throat. It wasn’t a declaration shouted from the rooftops, it wasn’t a grand, romantic gesture. It was quiet, real, the kind of love that had grown slowly over years, woven into every shared moment, every laugh, every late-night conversation.

“And I love you,” you whispered back, the words barely audible in the quiet of the desert night. “You’re my best friend, my person. You must know that.”

Paul let out a soft, almost relieved breath, his hand moving up to cup your cheek as he tilted your face up to meet his. There was a question in his eyes, one he didn’t need to ask. You answered it by leaning in, lips barely brushing against his, before he closed the final gap with the gentlest of kisses. He was tentative, as though testing the waters of something new, something fragile but real.

It was a kiss that felt like a promise.

It lingered, even when he pulled back ever so slowly, resting his forehead back against yours. 

You both stood there in the quiet, the weight of the desert and the night around you, but the tension between you finally dissipating through your touches.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Paul whispered again, his voice steady this time, though the vulnerability was still there, just beneath the surface.

“I will stay with you every night, if that would make you happy.” There was no hesitation in your voice or your heart. Just love.

A smile spread on his face before he pressed it against your lips in another kiss. Searing, caring, passionate. This was the closest you have seen him to his old boyish self, always happy to bask in your presence.

Letting his hand travel down to find yours, he interlaced your fingers and pulled you back into the sietch.

His room was small, barely big enough for the both of you, a stark contrast to your conditions at Caladan. But as you lay down beside each other, it didn’t matter, you were glad for the excuse to keep him even closer. Paul wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, and for the first time since Arrakis had stolen everything from you, you felt safe. Safe in the knowledge that whatever came next, whatever trials the desert or the universe had in store, you wouldn’t face them alone.

As you lay in his arms, your head resting against his chest, you whispered, “We’ll get through this, Paul. Together.”

Paul’s grip tightened around you, and you could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

“We will,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

“And I you. No matter what, my love.”

Warmth spread across Paul’s face at the name. He thought, with sleep beginning to cloud his mind, that though there are many uncomfortable changes – that is one he will happily accept. 

For the first time in weeks, you both fell asleep easily, wrapped in the comfort of each other, and the quiet promise of the love that had finally, after all these years, been released into dry air.

[bunnybunbun0]

renaissance

summary: because Paul Atreides was a piece of art in bed.

pairing: Paul Atreides X fem!reader

warnings: smut,porn without plot,

A/N: with the hype of dune part two being released i finally got my shit together and watvhed part one years later and oh.my.god. Seeing timmy play a serious important yet loving duke just rocked me a bit. i hope you guys like this!

sorry its short i wasnt planning on writing it,it just came t mind.not proofread,we die like real man. english is not my first language so be kind!

you are responsible for your own media comsumption! :)

credits to gif owner!

Paul Atreides was undoubtly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

And after stumbling upon a book on what ancient civilizations considered art,you were even more convinced he was god´s most wonderful creation.

When he pants on top of you while fiercifully thrusting into your soaked slit,his black curls clinging to his pale skin with a sheer of sweat;a beautiful contrast with his dark hair and white skin.

The sounds leaving the back of his throat are a sweet melody to your ears; the gutural grunts,the ocasional moan,the pants of your name,the filthy things he whispers in your ears.

You were fully convinced paul was the most beautiful work of art youve ever seen,he was ethereal,every trace of his was brushstroke,you lost yourself staring into the honey galaxies of his eyes.

"What are you thinking about that is more important than my cock inside you right now?"

His dirty question gets you out of your head;a long whimper scaped you at how dirty his words were,you tried your best to focus on answering his question,but between his cocktip brushing your sweet spot so deliciously,the force of his hips meeting yours,and the sinful noises that filled the room,all you could do in response was moan and whine.

He lowers his head to your neck,sucking and biting the sensitive pristine skin;you shiver at the thought of being marked by his beautiful lips,having him set a clam on you.

"Answer me" he asks in a grave tone,a shiver rippling through you bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"You´re beautiful!" you blabber out in a high pitched moan,not even realizing how desperate you sound or how you´re not making any sense to him right now "you´re beautiful! fuck paul,you´re so beautiful"

To say that was not what Pauls was expecting to hear was an understatement,he knew you appreciated his looks;it was clear with your lingering touches on him or how youd be amazedly watching him while he did the most mundane of tasks,but not that you liked it enough to declare it so devotedely while he was deep inside you.

He knew your body better than anyone else,and he could sense you were on the brink of an orgasm,his hand reached down rubbing sensual circles around your clit,not once slowing down his thrusts.

You unravel around him yelping and crying out as your release washed over you,your eyes shut feeling the moment where you and him become one.

A few more faltered thrusts into your now even tighter pussy,and paul was cumming inside you with a string of profanities leaving his mouth accompanied with your name.

You both stare at each for what feels like forever,breathing deeply while coming down from your highs.

Paul was a completely different person once the sexual aact was over,the kiss he pressed on your lips right now was not desperate and hurried,it was calm,soft,he treated you like the wind blow you away into a pile of sand.

He slips out of you carefully,making sure youre okay,carefully enveloping you in his arms and throwing a blanket around both their naked bodies;a confortable silence falls into the room as thetwo of you cuddle,paul lovingly stroking your arms,ocasionally kissing whatever naked skin he could get his lips on.

"You really think i´m that good looking?" he asks with the memory of you moaning out how beautiful he was mid sex stuck in his mind.

In your post orgasm clarity your mind goes back to the beautiful paintings you found on the ancient book,the delicacy of the lines,the softness of the colors and beautiful tragedies behind every piece. The sudden desire to once again tell paul how beautiful he is and make sure to know your ancient knowledge with him are overwhelming.

You sit up in the bed looking up at his face,a smile immediately meeting your lips as you look at him and decide to ask:

"Have you ever heard of Michelangelo?"

[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.” 

[austinbutlerslovers]

Fight Training

Label Mature 18+

Summary Austin has been practicing non stop to learn the art of Kali stick fighting for his upcoming role as Feyd Rautha for Dune Part Two.

Austin is so invested in his craft he comes home physically exhausted and begins a cycle of only cuddles, showers, and sleep with you.

Without sex you begin to lust for him. Your cravings for his body reach fever pitch when he returns home after a training session still sweaty.

This time you refuse to let him shower and sleep instead you make him submit and satisfy both of your sexual urges.

Established relationship girlfriend

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Female in heat• unsuspecting Austin•female sexual aggression• sub Austin•coercive edging on Austin• dirty talk •Oral sex on Austin• breast play•nipple play•clit play•P in V• simultaneous orgasms• cream pie •aftercare

Master List ••• Upcoming List

Thank you for this request. I have a glitch where I can’t post the story with it! But please enjoy 💝

Fight Training

Austin finishes his training with Roger Yuan for the day. It is in preparation for his latest film Dune Part Two. He has been cast to play the villain Feyd Rautha. A bald and menacing character who is a psychotic swordsman.

Austin has learned the art of Kali stick fighting with Roger over the last few months and is in near perfection of the skill. When they practice now instead of sticks they have upgraded to stunt blades.

Austin as usual has been intensely focused and highly determined to get every aspect right. The fighting team of the film began to take notice of Austin’s natural ability within the first week.

Now at the final stage even Roger compliments him “You pick up on the skill masterfully as if you have been doing this for years Austin” He affirms making Austin beam with pride.

On this day in particular Austin perfectly completed the choreography and flawlessly swept kicked his stunt stand in for Timothee Chalamet, who will play the hero Paul Atreides.

Roger stepped in to test his command of the routine for the film and Austin matched his pace perfectly once again.

At the end of the training session Austin still isn’t done practicing. He wants to go over a section with Roger where he presses the blade inches from his own eye.

They get into stance Roger kneeling forward pushing the blade towards Austin’s eye as Austin holds the handle with him and tries to resist being stabbed.

The stunt team gathers around because of how dangerous the move is even with a stunt blade. “You’re controlling how close the blade is going” Roger warns seeing how Austin is allowing the sharp point closer than necessary to his eye.

“Well let me see …” Austin says cutting himself short as the blade tip actually pierces lightly into his orbital socket. The stunt team begins panicked murmuring.

“Okay there it is” Austin says calmly knowing exactly how close the blade can get and corrects himself pressing it away from his eye.

Everyone is on pins and needles that Austin would take such a risk but Austin just laughs looking over at their worried faces “ I was just trying to see” he says through a smile setting them at ease.

The training session concludes after Austin’s last minute request and everyone begins to say their farewells to leave the fight studio.

Roger pats Austin on the back. “You have been non stop training Austin and it shows, even at home you are practicing?” Roger asks to confirm.

“Yes” Austin confirms . “Even at home, every minute I can. My girlfriend really enjoys the show” Austin admits grinning. Roger smiles back to him “Go home to her now, we start filming next week. Soon everyone who watches the movie will enjoy your skill” He says proudly.

Austin gets into his black Audi covered in sweat. He wears a black shirt and matching sweats. His shirt has white and green lettering on it which reads “Tad’s Chicken & dumplings” a restaurant popular in Oregon.

He blasts the AC as he drives home playing death metal to stay in focus for the inherent evil nature of his movie character.

When he arrives to his Los Angeles hills estate he looks forward to rinsing off in his elaborate shower before crashing in exhaustion with you on the couch or the king size bed to rest.

Pheromones

Austin enters the front door as usual but this time you come to hug him which you haven’t done before. He likes to hug you after he’s showered and clean and tries to stop you from getting covered in his sweat. “Baby I’m soaked I worked out so hard today look at me.” He says tugging his damp shirt.

The pheromones emitting from him drive you wild today. All of his muscles are bulging and he is glistening in sweat. His blue eyes flash with excitement to see you and his full lips and cheeks remain flushed pink which is his tell-tale sign he’s worked out too hard.

He finally sees your sexual desire for him as you continue to advance. He tries to avert your intentions away, he wants to shower first and be clean for you. “Baby…” he says with a wary tone as he places his hands out in a gesture to calm you.

“Come here Austin !” You command him smiling at each other as he makes you give chase. He quickly walks backwards through the living room with his arms outstretched keeping you at a distance. “Baby calm down” he says playfully.

He makes quick glances at the path behind him ensuring it’s clear as he walks backwards trying to keep you at bay.

Deep down you know you are going to pounce on him. You can see he is in a weakened state after his extreme training and you can easily over power his physical strength at the opportune moment.

You crave him, he has been busy and tired for days on end. The night before last he cuddled you to sleep. Last night he didn’t have sex with you due to his exhaustion from training. This morning he left you in bed because he woke up too tired. You’ve been without him for far too long.

Now seeing him wet with sweat as he smiles playfully staring into your eyes makes a surge of your pent up sexual desire rise for him. You lunge him just as he backs to the couch making him fall onto it.

You climb his body and attack his mouth first. He whimpers not wanting to give in but he can’t resist you and surrenders into your kisses clutching your head in his hands kissing you in return.

He breaks the kiss and grins staring into your eyes. “Did you miss me baby?” He asks knowingly and you smile in return. “Yes I missed you and I want to reward your for all the hard work you've been doing. I see you fight training in our courtyard everyday and it drives me wild Austin you look so good.” You admit and trail your hand down his shirt to lift the hem. You plunge your hand under the band of his sweats and begin massaging the head of his softened cock.

“Fuck baby!” He chokes out as his body tenses trying to stop the mixed signals of exhaustion and arousal surging through his body.

His head finally falls back into submission for arousal and he relaxes as your hand slowly rubs up and down his thick long soft cock. “I know you’re tired Austin but you deserve a reward.” You say peering down into his softened blue eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he nods yes and gives in to you.

His panting increases as you gently squeeze and stroke his cock until he is semi hard.

You climb on top of him straddling his hips and slowly grind your pussy on his length. “Baby you’re so…hot for me…-you must need my cock in you…badly” he pants out as he grabs your waist.

“Yes Austin I need you so badly you look so good. Im aching to have you inside of me” you respond as you work your hips in a rhythm pressing your pussy against his large cock as it hardens solid.

“Thats it baby …fuck -you’re getting me so hard…I-I’m gonna satisfy you completely… I..I’m gonna make you cum…I’m sorry I’ve ….been so busy.” He pants out.

“That’s exactly…what I want Austin.. I want you to make me cum.” You confess nearly breathless. You place your hands on his chest for leverage and feel the friction of his hardened cock rubbing against your folds intensify beginning to satisfy your pent up sexual urges.

You lightly moan using him to get yourself off and he stares up at you continuing to pant and groan as you grind harder on his cock edging you both.

You stand from his lap when his cock is rock hard. His eyes follow your movements as you kneel between his legs and tug at the band of his sweats. “Baby please let me shower.” He begs worried that he will taste like sweat, he wants his cock clean for you, he wants it to have no taste at all.

But you are persistent, his pheromones smell so sweet it’s driving you insane with lust.

“I want you like this Austin, I want to know what your cock tastes like.” You admit as you lift his shirt trailing your finger tips down his abs.

His six pack tenses showing every muscle as your finger tips reach his pelvic line. You see his hard cock twitch in anticipation through his tenting sweats and you softly squeeze the tip making him grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Beg me to suck your sweaty cock Austin” you command and he looks down at you while he lays flat, his eyes are pleading for you not to make him say it.

Your lips curve into a smile you love that he is so clean and perfect he is unable to even say the words.

You trail your hands down to his testis giving them a soft squeeze making his cock twitch a second time as he gasps “…baby please don’t make me say it.“ he begs.

You pull his sweat band lower releasing his large cock. His shaft sways and you hold it straight making him gasp again sensitive from your touch.

You form a fist around his cock and place your mouth above it “beg me” You command him looking into his eyes. He feels the heat of your words on his sensitive tip and restrains from bucking his hips up into your mouth.

You lick your thumb for saliva and swirl it around the tiny hole of his sensitive cock head making him lose his mind. His abs tense and his legs spasm as his hips buck up. “ Please suck my sweaty cock baby please !” he begs loudly making you smile. “As you wish” you tease him.

You lower your mouth on him as much as you can take and moan on his cock from the flavor. He tastes sweet and salty at the same time driving you insane with lust as you begin to drool.

“Do you…...- like it baby?” He pants struggling to form words as you suck him. “Mmhmm” you moan on his cock as your lock eyes with his. He becomes more aroused knowing you enjoy it.

You savor his cock as you suck all the way up releasing your mouth from his tip with a wet pop before diving back down on him and licking your tongue against his shaft in a repeated cycle.

He lays flat just panting and moaning in pleasure at the feeling of your mouth. The way your tongue explores his cock is different from anything you’ve done before and it sends shocks through his entire body feeling like your are trying to suck the flavor right off of him.

His cock twitches already wanting to cum in your mouth. “ fuck baby” he breaths out, and sits up on his elbows to watch what you do that pleasures him so much.

You guide your mouth on his cock bobbing up and down sucking him non stop. His body tenses as his cock pulses ready to cum. “P-please let me…-cum in your pussy baby…” he begs already at his climax. “Please..-let me …-s..satisfy you… I know you need me….” He says breathlessly.

You hold his thighs and lift your mouth from his cock “I need you Austin I want you to cum in me” you admit standing up preparing to ride him.

He sits up on the couch breathing heavier as he shivers from almost cumming in your mouth. He removes his socks and sneakers first then pulls off his damp shirt. He is extremely fit from his strength training for his role as Feyd.

His chest and abs are chiseled to perfection with his once defined arms now fully bulked. He lifts up his hips to pull his sweats and boxers off revealing his muscular legs. His nice thick cock is fully erect in between his toned thighs. Once completely naked he looks up at you to show he is ready.

You smile in satisfaction studying his pretty face and body. His full lips are parted and panting. The pupils in his blue eyes are expanded so wide from arousal they are almost all black.

You step closer standing between his spread muscular thighs and run your hands through his sweaty hair. You press the wet strands on his forehead back into his hairline as he smiles up at you with admiration in his eyes. He is so beautiful.

You plant a kiss on his smiling lips and step back to pull off your top and shorts with your panties. You climb on top of him a second time straddling his hips, this time you are both naked. He holds you around your waist and slowly kisses your mouth. He tastes himself on your tongue and he smiles that you like it.

As you begin to kiss heavier his hands wander up from your waist to cup your full breasts squeezing them together as he flicks your nipples with his thumbs.

He lowers you onto his cock and you both moan in unison as you settle on his base. “Austin you feel so good” you confess having been denied him so long due to his training schedule.

“Baby…you feel so good too… but -I-Im not gonna last long …you sucked me too good” he confesses panting against your neck with his hands on your waist. Feeling your tight pussy on him already pushes him to the verge of an orgasm.

”Make me cum then baby” you command and he immediately latches his mouth on your throat sucking hard and flicking his tongue to mark you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and moan against his ear as you ride his cock. You work your mid back with your hips to feel him even deeper and he praises you with kisses across your neck as you climax.

He parts his legs wider and holds you firm to him as he begins powerfully thrusting his cock back into you. “A-Austin YES!” You moan out loud.

He releases one arm from you and reaches between your bodies as he thrusts. His thumb finds your swollen clit and swirls circles into it as you moan and orgasm hugging him tightly around his neck. “I-I’mcumming Austin!” You cry out. “Yea?.. Me too.” he confirms.

Moans emit from both of your mouths as his cock pulses his warm cum into you. “Fuck!” Austin cries out thrusting faster bouncing you on his cock. He empties all of his cum into you, painting your walls and filling you up before he slows to a stop.

You both breathe heavily and are covered in a light sheen of sweat staring into each others eyes. “I love you” he declares feeling the rush of endorphins from sex. “I love too” you say breathlessly as you rest your forehead to his. You come down together in the intimate moment.

He holds the nape of your neck planting kisses on your lips as he guides his other hand to your waist. He helps you lift from his lap, sliding his cock out of you.

He holds you close as you stand in front of him while he sits on the couch. His ear is pressed to your chest as his hands caress your back. “I missed us having sex, thank you for making me realize” he says as you lovingly stroke through his wet sweaty hair. “You work so hard Austin you forget to take care of yourself sometimes” you say lovingly.

After a moment of him affectionately holding you close you break the silence “We should shower together Austin” you say smiling knowing what he wants to do next.

He looks up at you grinning with his eyes full of elation. He presses a firm kiss between your breasts and responds “finally”making you both laugh.

💙🩵End 🩵💙

Mr. Butlers Baby Sitter Part 3 TBA (next sorry for the delay) Mr.Butlers Babysitter

🏷️ The Always Tag List ♥️ (for the new smut fics)

@faegoddessog @purejasmine @obsessedvibee @abswifey @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @star017 @buckysteveloki-me @cauliflowercounty @elvismylove04 @burnthheparaphilia @emeraldsgirl @fallofthedamned @lindszeppelin @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @feydsociety @phil2135561 @softboo

[madamevirgo]

okay so i have an idea for a lady jessica x reader fic, where the reader is one of the fremen and supports and protects jessica, around the time when paul and jessica join the fremen. She is still pretty vulnerable and even a bit scared but only shows that side of herself with the reader.

obviously you dont have to write that :)

Mine to Give

Pairing: Lady Jessica x (f!)reader

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: none? Terrible writing, softness.

A/N: I took this and ran with it ijbol. I’m a little rusty, so I apologize, but I hope you’re happy with this. Thank you for the request!!

You looked up from the stillsuit that you’d been working on repairing for the last hour at the sound of rushed footsteps moving about. 

Although it was not uncommon to hear commotion about the Sietch, these sounds were different. The footsteps were rushed and had a certain urgency to them that compelled you to follow them. As you got closer to the communal space, you heard voices laced with equal parts anger and anguish. 

“What’s going on?” You asked a little boy who almost crashed into you as he was pushed back by the large crowd that had been formed. 

“Stilgar is back with the others, and they’ve brought two outsiders. One of them killed Jamis” he replied hastily, before worming his way into the crowd once more - like a little desert mouse. 

You frowned as you watched him go, trying to make sense of what he’d just said. Jamis was dead, killed by the strangers. Why would Stilgar - a man you knew to be wise and calculating - risk endangering the community by bringing the foreigners here? He wouldn’t. He had a motive and a reason, you would find out. 

—————

“I’ve been gone for weeks, and you don’t even make an effort to greet me upon our arrival.” You turned around to see Chani leaning against the entrance to your room. 

“I didn’t hear you enter the yali.” You said as you approached her with a smile and claimed her in a hug. 

“What had distracted you enough for your acute senses to have been so diminished.” She asks, and you follow her as she sits at the edge of your bed. 

You take a moment to collect your thoughts. “These outsiders that you and Stilgar have brought, what do you make of them?” 

She looks ahead, her eyes seeming to lose focus as she thinks of an answer. “They’re the last remaining survivors of the Atreides family, our latest oppressors - slaughtered in the night by the Harkonnens. The woman is a Bene Gesserit and Stilgar believes the boy to be the Mahdi, the Lisan al Gaib. You know how I feel about these prophecies that have been written to control us.” You put a hand on her clenched fist to placate her. 

“Calm yourself, my sister.” You start quietly. “I know you are suspicious by nature, but you must not let your anger cloud your vision. Trust that Stilgar knows what he is doing. Give them a chance.” 

“If I am too cynical, then you are too trusting. I fear that your heart will get you in trouble.” She says with a slight smile, making you bump her shoulder with yours. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust strangers. And this prophecy - the Lisan al Gaib is supposed to be Fremen.” She said as her eyes once again regained their previous harshness. 

“I’m an outsider,” You replied pensively. “Yet, Stilgar saved me from the desert and raised me like his daughter. Feeding, clothing and cuddling me. You have done much the same, claiming me as your sister and teaching me to fight like a Fedaykin amongst other things. So tell me Chani, by your logic - am I Fremen or an outsider.” You held her gaze awaiting her answer. She looked down with a frown, before answering.

“You are Fremen. You learned the way of our people.” she says with certitude.

You put a hand on her cheek “I am both. He too shall learn, much like I did. I know you and Stilgar will advise him - just like you did me.” You finished gently. 

“You truly live up to your name.” She said with a smile, before getting up and extending a hand to you. “Now come, the others are waiting for us and I haven’t had a proper meal in three weeks.

———

Dinner had been a very interesting affair. You got the chance to get a better look at the duo, more the boy than his mother - as her back had been turned to you. That only served to increase your curiosity and you found yourself oddly disappointed when Stilgar came to collect her. 

If you thought Chani was against them, this was nothing compared to the way Shishakli felt. The badmouthing, paired with the sight of the boy who was desperately trying to ignore the stares and the taunting comments had effectively cut your appetite and forced you to excuse yourself to go on a walk. 

You’d been wandering for a while, not paying attention to where you had ventured when you bumped into someone coming from the hallway to your left. It was only your quick Fedaykin reflexes that allowed you to grab her before she could fall. 

“I’m so sorry.” You said and as you settled on the face of the woman standing in front of you, you recognized her to be the woman outsider. A slight movement of her hand caused your attention to deflect to her growing belly. “Shai-Hulud strike me! Are you okay? I should have been more mindful of where I was going. Please sit for a moment.” You gently guided her to a resting corner that was often used for prayer. 

“It’s okay, no harm no foul.” Replied the woman as you both sat down. “I am afraid I got lost. I tried to find my way after meeting with Stilgar, but these hallways all look similar to me.” She said quietly. 

You were finally able to get a good look at her and two things stood out to you. She was insanely beautiful and the sadness that covered her features looked like it was swallowing her whole. 

“I’d be more than happy to help you find your way back to your son.” You said as you stood up and she followed suit gratefully.

“Thank you, Stilgar left pretty quickly and I didn’t get the chance to ask for directions.” She explained as you began to guide her towards her intended destination. 

“He means well, but he is a bit scatterbrained at times.” You responded with a smile. 

“I’m beginning to see that. I would’ve asked someone, but most people here look at me a certain way.” You looked at her from the corner of your eyes and saw a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. 

“You have to understand, that they’ve never met anyone like you and are weary of outsiders.” You explained as neutral as possible, not letting your need to protect your people get in the way. 

“I do understand,” she responded, probably sensing that she had hit a nerve. She was a Bene Gesserit after all. “It’s only normal under the circumstances, but still, it stings a bit.” She finished quietly. “You are different.” You inclined your head, signalling you were listening, but keeping your eyes forward. “I sense no distrust in you. You have only treated me with kindness so far. The only other person who has done that has been Stilgar.” She finished 

“That’s one of the qualities that makes my father such a great leader. As for me, I believe that everyone should be given trust and respect until proven otherwise,” you said proudly.

“You’re Stilgar’s daughter?” She asked with veiled surprise. 

“Adoptive, yes. My name is Y/n, but my people call me Amela,” you explain. 

“Y/n.” She whispers as if testing the way your name rolled off her tongue (rather well). “I’m Jessica. Amela means ‘One who hopes’, does it not? That’s a beautiful name.” You got a weird feeling in your stomach at her compliment. 

The rest of the way was completed in silence as you both were lost in your thoughts. Her more than you, as you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering to her. After a few turns, you arrived at the communal area where you had been eating. 

“Mother!” You looked to see the other outsider approaching you at a hurried pace. “Where have you been? I was worried sick.” He said as he finally reached the both of you.

“I got lost after meeting Stilgar. Y/n here was kind enough to guide me back.” She said gesturing to you, and the suspicious look he had been giving you wavered. 

“Thank you for that. I’m Paul.” He said, extending his hand. You accepted the foreign greeting before letting go.

As you stepped away, you noticed your father in the distance and it suddenly occurred to you that you had missed him. 

“I should go greet Stilgar.” You say as you step away. Before you could leave completely you spared Jessica one last glance. “Welcome to the Sietch”. 

————

The next time you saw her, she was the Reverend Mother. You hadn’t been one of those who’d waited outside the cave where she met with the previous Reverend Mother, the thought of her potentially not surviving the ordeal made a cold sweat travel down your back. 

You were sitting in a corner in the communal area, quietly working on a defective fremkit, when you felt a figure looming over you. 

“Glad to see you survived drinking worm piss.” You said in a teasing tone. 

“Barely.” She said as she took the greeting as an invitation to claim the seat next to you. “Are you some kind of engineer?” She asked as she watched you work on fixing the fremkit. 

“I’m a Fedaykin by trade. Fixing things is just a pastime.” You explained. 

“How come you’re not outside with the others?” 

“They’re more than capable of dealing with the spice harvesters. Besides, from what I hear, your son seems to be more than enough extra help.” You closed the fremkit and handed it to her. “A gift” You explained. 

“I doubt I’ll need it, but thank you,” she says thankfully.

Her response reminded you of a conversation that you had with your father. “I intended to go find you after I finished here actually. You said as you fully focused your attention on her. “I’ve been assigned as your personal guard, by Stilgar.” you watched her for any discomfort as you uttered the words. 

“That is a bit useless. I’m sure you’ve heard of the weirding way. Much more effective than any fighting taught across the universe.” she said with disdain. 

“I’ll try not to take offence to that. Fedaykin’s fighting skills should not be discarded,” you said slightly colder than you intended. “I don’t see how me protecting you is any different from the treatment you had as a Duke’s bound concubine. But if it’s my presence that makes you feel unsettled, I can promise to not let myself be seen.” she went to argue, but the look on your face must have dissuaded her. 

“Fine, but I still think this is a waste of your time.” she relented and you let a satisfied smile appear on your face.

—-------------

For weeks, you followed the Reverend Mother around. Watching as she continued her Bene Gesserit propaganda amongst your people. You should have been angry at her brainwashing your loved ones, but you couldn’t help but focus on her more appealing qualities. 

Her beauty for one. The way she walked, sometimes seductively, sometimes like a fearless woman. You also grew protective of her, admonishing anyone who dared to utter negative words about her. And when the day had been long and the weight of her responsibilities and precognition seemed to crush her, you felt the urge to take her in your arms and tell her that you would take care of it all. But you couldn’t; you could only watch and make sure she was safe physically. 

You didn’t talk much, just like you had promised; and she did a good job at acting like you didn’t exist unless necessary. A hard task since you had been given a room in her yali. It had been a month since you’d been appointed as her guard when your relationship took a more personal turn. 

It had been a particularly long day. News from the Fedaykins had come of another successful mission, but many had been lost. Too many. Every time we received news that Paul was still alive, she cradled her belly and let out a breath. She had spent most of the day mumbling to herself, or rather her daughter. Something she seemed to do more when she was anxious. You wish she’d talk to you instead.

You were in deep sleep when a scream had you immediately jumping to your feet and running to her room, your Crysknife drawn, ready to defend your lady. You arrived and quickly surveyed the room for any imminent danger, when you saw none - you approached the bed where the Reverend Mother was trashing about. 

“Reverend Mother!” still she didn’t wake up as you avoided getting hit in the face by her wild arms. “My lady! Jessica!” finally, her eyes snapped open and she looked around in panic, before meeting your worried eyes. 

Once she did, she burst into tears. “It’s too much.” you didn’t think twice before gathering her in your arms. You understood what she meant by that. You’ve seen the toll her new position had taken on her in the past month. 

Your heart broke for her and you felt more useless than ever. You cursed the Bene Gesserit for making her this way, you cursed the Harkonnens for having disrupted her life, you cursed Paul - for whom she was doing all this, you cursed Stilgar for having entrusted her into this position, but above all - you cursed yourself for not being able to do something about it. As she cried, so did you. You who had been taught not to give your water away - you let your tears fall freely for Jessica, as you let yourself echo her pain and sorrow. 

“I’m sorry. Shh, I’m so sorry. I’m here.” you repeated these words like a litany as you held her. 

Eventually, her sobs turned to sniffles, and to hiccups before she fell asleep. You don’t know how long you stayed watching over her like a vigil. Sometimes she would whimper in her sleep and you’d pat her back softly until she was calm again. Soon, sleep also claimed you, and you fell asleep where you sat on the floor with your hand in hers, and your back against the nightstand. 

When you woke in the morning, it was in a very soft bed. The pillows smelled of something fresh. You’d heard about a place in the universe that was full of greenery and water. They called it a forest. You think this is what that must have smelled like. This is the type of comfort that it must have brought. You didn’t want to move, but when you remembered the event of the night, you couldn’t get up fast enough as you ran around to find the older woman. 

Your heart was beating in your chest, chastising yourself for having been sleeping so deeply. 

“You’re awake,” you turned around to see her coming out of the bathroom and let out a sigh of relief. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up, I thought-” You shook your head to get rid of the bad thoughts. 

“I didn’t want to wake you up after last night. Besides, it wouldn’t do any good for my bodyguard to be falling asleep on her feet.” she teased slightly, you kept your face neutral, still trying to get your heart to calm down. 

“I’m sorry”

“Thank you” 

You both spoke at the same time and you looked at her in confusion. 

“Thank you for what?”

“Why are you sorry?”

This time you allowed myself a smile to accompany hers. 

“You first, my lady.” You said gracefully 

“I am saying thank you for the comfort you provided last night,” she hesitated, before adding “For this past month, really.” she finished almost bashfully. A look you hadn’t seen on her face before. 

“I haven’t done anything worth acknowledging. Not last night, and not these past weeks. All I’ve done is follow you around.” You shrug. 

She crossed the room in three long strides before taking your hands in hers softly. 

“I know it’s been hard at times to watch me work. You don’t agree with how I’ve been spreading my doctrines - but I’ve never caught any judgment, hatred or disgust from you. You’ve been more of a companion for me.” she looked to the side and frowned, before capturing your eyes once again. “The path I’m on can be lonely, I’ve been thrown into a new culture and position with no time to adapt, collect my bearings or mourn. I’m scared, terrified actually; but it’s been a little easier with you watching my back.” she finished.

“I’ll always have your back,” You mumbled earnestly

“I know.” she taps her head slightly with a finger, to show that she can see it, and you laugh. Of course, she can. “This is only the beginning of something beautiful for you and I.” the way she looks at you causes heat to rush to your cheeks and to look away from her mesmerizing eyes. 

“What does that mean?” You ask with a nervous laugh. 

“All in due time. But please, don’t give your water away for me again,” she says softly, her hand on your cheek as if catching the tears that had fallen last night. 

A shiver runs down your back. “It’s mine to give.” 

———

Part 2

A/N: Like, share and subscribe to my chanel teehee 🥰

[skythighs]

Goddess of Caladan: Home

Has anyone else been craving an unhinged codependent relationship? No? Just me, got it. Be prepared for Paul to slowly descend into madness all while his twin enables his behavior like there's no tomorrow. I'll be linking all pictures on my masterlist.

Warnings: CW Inc*st, sexual content 18+ please.

Word count: 3.3k

Part 1

My earliest memories are of my brother. I'll never forget the sound of his pitter patter feet running across the solid stone floors of our shared chambers. After our nanny thought we were asleep and tucked in for the night she would leave us for her own bed. Within seconds of the solid door latching closed he would make his way to me. We would lie chest to chest, nose to nose breathing each other's air until we fell asleep. For years when we were discovered in a tangle of limbs in the morning it was harmless and sweet. It was ‘just what twins do’. 

There was no harm in it, until there was. By age ten our mother Lady Jessica calmly spoke to us of the closeness between us. She was understanding of the bond we share but now we must separate for propriety's sake. It was not proper for us to share a bed anymore. We had already been put in separate chambers by now. Paul was male, and I was female. He could no longer cuddle with me, his sister throughout the night without certain whispers being spread by servants. 

We were ten when we agreed to never be caught in each other's bed again. Paul trained himself to rise before the sun, before the servants started their day, before they could spy on us and gossip. Or worse, report back to mother. As long as we weren't seen in each other's bed it meant we were no longer sharing a bed at all. It meant we were no longer ‘too close’.

In all actuality we were too close. Paul's heart beat to the same rhythm as my own. My very thoughts would pass his lips the instant it crossed my mind, despite our best efforts we were one. In our childhood our feelings were as innocent as we were. Pure of heart and intentions. However as our bodies changed so did our interactions. There was an odd tension between us by age fourteen. I experienced the first bitter taste of womanhood and Paul grew two feet overnight. 

He was the one that shook me awake informing me of the bloodied sheets beneath us. He didn't know where I was bleeding from just that I was and it frightened him. I reassured him it was normal, it meant that I was no longer a child. Somehow the odd feelings between us grew after that day and I felt the rhythm in his chest speed up whenever he stared at me for too long. 

“Claudia, you are blossoming beautifully into your features. Gone is the awkward little girl, all elbows and knees. In her place stands a young lady with a lovely figure and a lovelier face.” 

My mother praised me for my transformation while Paul became distant. He himself was no longer a lanky boy, he filled out with a bit of muscle from all the training over the years. Whenever I could spare the time I would watch him spar with Duncan, or Gurney. My mother trained me in the ways of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood extensively. Paul was also being instructed by her but being born male put him at a disadvantage. I tried helping him correct his pitch when he tried to use the voice but nothing I could do ever helped.  

No matter how distant he was during the daylight hours he still slept beside me at night. We were still a tangle of limbs chest to chest, nose to nose. His dreams were my dreams and I saw the girl on the desert planet as clear as he did. Her blue eyes were altered by the spice of Arrakis making her honey brown skin all the more beautiful. 

The news of the Emperor bestowing Arrakis to House Atreides was no shock to Paul or me. The Reverend mother Gaius Helen Mohiam arrived after that. She tested us separately and was pleased to know we weren't animals as she feared. Paul was the Atreides heir after all and him being an animal simply wouldn't do. He was also his mothers son, too much power was within him. Male children didn’t usually get trained in The Way. Me however I had no real role besides being married off to some other great house when the time came. At sixteen some thought I was old enough to be wed but not my father. 

Duke Leto refused to make me a child bride no matter how much the Imperium pushed for it. He defied the order that came to promise me to House Harkonnen. In fact he never spoke of it with anyone, but me. He promised he would never let them have me. His argument for my mother was about my age. He couldn’t tell her to her face that he would not help fulfill the Bene Gesserit order.

“Claudia is only sixteen years old. I will not force her into a marriage so young Jessica, you cannot change my mind.” 

Jessica knew when she had been bested and she knew better than to push him on this. She also knew when she was being deceived. Claudia was his angel for whom he would carve out a piece of the very sky if she asked it of him. He had no intention of marrying her off now or ever. 

It was a bit humid due to the rain, making sleep difficult to come by tonight. Paul was facing away from me shirtless and I found myself stroking his hair absentmindedly, occasionally dipping down his spine languidly. 

“I told Duncan about my dream. About seeing his death on Arrakis. He didn’t take me seriously.”

Hmm, I hum in response. I saw the dream with my own eyes. I felt his want, his guttural need to save Duncan. I felt it so strongly I wept in the morning. I continue stroking him as he turns to face me. He looks down at my cream colored nightgown which was left unbuttoned at the top. I knew what he was going to do before he acted upon it. His soft lips brushed against mine gently. He was waiting to see my reaction. Would I push him away? He couldn’t handle another rejection today after his talk with father about joining Duncan on Arrakis. 

I kiss him back slowly, the way he needs me to. I feel his warm tongue run against my lips hesitantly as I open for him. He deepens the kiss sinking down on top of me. He fit so perfectly against me. We were molded in each other's image afterall. The familiar quick rhythm returned to his chest, but this time my own heart matched its pace. Words weren’t needed between us. They haven’t been for a long time, we understood each other better than anyone else. 

The tension that had been brewing between us had finally reached its peak. We were experiencing a metamorphosis here and now on a dark rainy night. One of the last nights on our home planet before we moved across the galaxy to make Arrakis our new residence. 

“I need you Claud, let me have you. Please let me have you. Always.”

Brown eyes meet green, brown like the supple fertile soil that sustains the living trees that flourish on Caladan’s surface. Brown in a much different way than the rolling dunes of Arrakis. Where Arrakis was barren and life was a struggle. Her brown was a brown entirely familiar to him. Her amber eyes had been his constant companion since life sparked in the womb. They were brown even then in his consciousness; she was meant for him even then. 

‘I’ve always been yours’

I don’t speak it, because I don’t have to. He knows my answer, he’s always known. I spread my legs for him, welcoming him home for the first time, but not the last. He lifts my gown over my head tossing it aside. My chest is on the small side but he doesn’t care. He worships my breasts slowly, not missing an inch of skin. His tongue is slow and exploratory before his teeth become demanding. Nips and bites make me cry out softly unable to swallow them all down. He moves down to the apex between my thighs. 

He sucks me urgently, familiarizing himself with the blooming petals. He finds my slit wet and wanting. I can’t tell where his mouth ends and my body begins as he delves inside. His fingers are involved and I know they are working equally as hard as his mouth. I couldn’t decipher anything past the absolute pleasure and joy bursting within me. A pleasure that was quickly spilling over like sticky wine in a fine goblet. A sweetness that nearly soured on the tongue, an acquired taste that only he would ever enjoy.

 My core snaps harshly, something that had never been, now was. My eyes roll to the back of my head and a limpness passes over me. He laps up my nectar slowly savoring this moment. The first of many moments such as this. I feel Paul watching me as he settles his hips against me again. 

“Claud, are you with me?” He calls so softly, almost as if he’s afraid of waking me.

My eyes snap open and I feel my limp limbs gain strength again.

“I’m here, I’m with you.” I nod looking at him. I pull his forehead to mine and wrap my thighs around him snugly. His bare chest is pressed against mine and I help him push his slacks down. Hands fumbling together, shaking with anticipation as the last barrier between us is gone. 

‘Your home, with me. No matter where life takes us. This is where you belong.’

He enters me slowly, his forehead is still resting against mine. As I exhale he's breathing me in until his lungs burn. I look into his eyes and I see his pupils blown wide, his body responding to mine like a drug. When he bottoms out he drops his head to my neck, pecking at me trying to calm his hummingbird heartbeat before he goes further. My insides are so slick all I felt was a mild discomfort as he broke through my barrier. His breath quivers and I feel his tears run down my neck collecting in the dip of my clavicle. 

“Shh, my love don't weep.” I stroke his hair slowly to soothe away his tears.

I circle my hips from below him, testing the foreign feeling within me. Pleasure blooms between us and he begins thrusting slowly into me. Savoring this new level of intimacy between us he takes his time. Our lips lock in an unbreakable kiss. Inhale. Exhale. We breathe each other in, with each stroke the cup overflows. Our sounds of pleasure are swallowed into the kiss. Only soft whimpers and sighs could be heard between us. His thrusts increase and we finally pull apart. My head is thrown back in ecstasy as he licks up the puddle of tears he left behind. 

Skin slapping skin is such an odd sound. A very distinct sound that couldn’t be replicated easily, but we are too far gone to care. His movements grow sloppy as I meet him thrust for thrust, always pulling him closer as he pulls away. His peak was nearing now I could feel the ripples under the surface of his skin. I could feel the odd tingling down below. The tightening of his sack. I felt his ecstasy as well as my own. It was a feeling that could easily overwhelm, but we shared it equally.

“I’m going to cum Claud. Tell me where.” His breathless voice rings out in the darkness. 

“Inside Paul, always inside.”

My words push him over the edge of a cliff and where he goes I follow. We tumble one after the other off the highest peak on Caladan. We could be falling to our deaths, or the pits of hell, but we do it together. Always together. Always as one single entity. One single life split in two.

We said goodbye to Caladan by enjoying the beaches closest to the castle for the last time. Paul was in a melancholic mood, matching his black coat and travel garb. The ship had been raised from the sea and everything we owned was boxed in preparation for the journey. The Atreides castle was now bleak and eerily silent. I left Paul to himself while I explored our empty home. The corridors seemed ominous now, so dark and dank and lonely. Arrakis could be a welcomed change. It was always sunny and bright, it never rained there. Rain for weeks on end always dampened my mood, no pun intended. 

Deep down my brother was looking forward to seeing Arrakis. It meant he was one step closer to facing the girl from his dreams. He tried to hide that feeling away, but he couldn’t keep things from me. No matter how hard he tried, I already knew. I appreciated him trying to spare me the pain, but what we shared was beyond petty feelings of jealousy. At least that was true for me. Men were different. 

I was looking forward to meeting her in the flesh whenever that may be. I would accept her if he chooses her, but would she accept me? Would she understand that Paul and I would always be together no matter who else entered our lives? I would always be his Caladan.

“When did you sneak off?”

Paul's voice startles me out of my thoughts. He wraps his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side.

“You seemed preoccupied. I didn’t want to bother you.” I look up at him as I speak tucked beneath his shoulder.

“You could never be a bother to me, Claudia.” 

He leans down and captures my lips in a sweet kiss. His kiss was the one bit of brightness in the dark damp hallway. We hadn’t been together in an intimate way since that night we shared together. Even still things were different. His eyes called out to me from across any room. His lips beckoned me forward across the dinner table as we dined with our parents. He looked at me with such love and devotion it was impossible to miss.

A stranger would think of me, his great love. They would never take me for his sister, but we had always been close. It could be overlooked for now but eventually mother and father would realize, this was no longer the bond of twins. The echo of footsteps reaches us so we break the kiss but he keeps me tucked into his side as our mother rounds the corner.

“There you two are. We’re ready to board.”

She smiles at us briefly before her smile falls quickly. She looks us over slowly, taking stock, attempting to find what it is that’s different.

“Shall we go mother?” Asks Paul. He feels the probing eyes the same as me. 

She nods her head and turns away from us, leading the way for the last time in the halls we chased each other in as children. The halls we took our first steps in. This was the castle where we shared our first kiss. Our first everything, happened here. The castle where we were born together. Where our childhood was laid to rest a week ago in the night, in each other's arms.

We had been traveling for two weeks already on the guild heighliner with two more weeks left ahead of us. On the up side there was plenty of time for rest and relaxation. Being cooped in my designated room for the duration of travel was not fun so I ventured out often. I chatted with servants and soldiers alike, making the time pass as best I could. Paul and I spent uninterrupted hours together. As close as we were before, it grew tenfold. He spent hours inside of me in these weeks. Hours beneath me, on top of me, beside me.

 I was currently stretched out across his bed. His quarters were larger than mine which allowed for a bigger bed. I certainly took advantage of it. He was sitting at a small table reading about Arrakis no doubt and I was in my nightgown braiding my hair away from my face. My thick dark hair piled into a thick rope of a braid with only a few stray pieces around my face caught his attention. 

He abandons his book on the table and makes his way towards the bed slowly. He strokes my braid gently, wrapping it around his hand. A quick rap on the door breaks the spell. 

“Yes?” Says Paul, annoyed at the interruption. 

“Have you seen Claudia? She's not in her room.”

She was using that tone mothers used when they already knew the answer to the question. Paul removes his hand from my hair reluctantly.

“I'm here.” I replied to her. Paul rolls his eyes at me not liking that I gave away my position. 

She cracks the door open slowly, timidly even. As if she's afraid of what she might see from the threshold. 

“It's late, Claud. You should be in your own bed.”

Ah, there it is. The thing that had been brewing for a fortnight now. Her suspicion had taken root now. She could feel that something was strange between us, she was our mother after all.

“Paul doesn't mind my company mother. He's been reading-”

“Claudia, it's late. If you want to escape travel fatigue you should be in bed by now.” She blatantly cuts me off. She was dismissing me from his room. There was little room for argument. 

I stand up and grab my robe, securing it. I see Paul shaking his head at her frustration clear on his face but I don't comment on it. I bid them goodnight and walked past her in the doorway. The walk to my room is short. Once I arrive I discard my robe on a chair and climb into bed. I fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. 

The opening of my door barely registers past the thick cloud of sleep. It's his lips that get my attention. He kisses my shoulder lightly as he climbs in behind me. Sleep claims me again now that he was here with me. Our bodies fall into the perfect rhythm that only happens when we're together. Inhale. Exhale. If I'm the sky he's what clouds are made of. 

In the last weeks of our journey my mother's probing eyes followed me closely. Just me. For she always struggles to find fault in Paul; her loves heir was perfect in her eyes. He was the boy our father asked for. He was Lady Jessica's success story. I was just a daughter. Any daughter would do but Paul was special to her, we all knew it. 

My father compensated for her love of Paul by adoring me twice as much. He was the balancing force at the center of our family. He was seated across from me, a chess board between us as he contemplated his next move. 

“I'm afraid you've finally surpassed me Claud. There's nothing I can do to stop you from winning.”

I look closer at the board. I hadn't even noticed.

“Ah, there. You're right this match goes to me.”

“Shall we play another round?” Asks my father cheerfully.

The door to the office opens and Paul walks in, eyes locking on mine. I had been avoiding him during the day afraid of the ever present mother hen.

“Perhaps Paul should take my place, I'll go have a nap.” 

I stand and kiss my father's cheek. Avoiding Paul's eyes as I leave without another word. When I step over the threshold I hear father ask if we've been arguing. 

“We never fight.” Paul replies easily. 

[kteezy997]

Headcannons on how Timmy's characters cuddle plsssss

Willy Wonka:

always makes sure you have something sweet before bed, first of all.

very vocal, lets out an audible sigh once he has relaxed against you.

he's happy to be big spoon or little spoon, whichever you prefer.

he just wants you to be warm and comfortable.

he doesn't squeeze you too much, as he is respectful of your space and comfortability, but he loves to hold you and be close to you.

Lee:

surprisingly, likes being the little spoon.

he may sigh in a melancholy tone at first, as he longs to connect with you.

his breathing will steady as you snuggle him, and he may even hum contently.

he hugs you tightly, in the sense that he never wants to lose you.

he tells you how much he loves your scent, and he nuzzles his face into your neck.

he loves the feeling of your hair on his cheek, and takes a second to take in the smell of your hair.

Paul Atreides

has the tendency to be cold and distant, but he has slowly shown you his more tender self.

keeps a strong, possessive hold on you all night long.

he tells you that you belong to him.

you feel that his arms are the safest place in the known universe.

Yule

is totally stoked that you want to sleep over in the first place.

is very into having your consent for almost every touch he places on you.

he plays with your hair, and rubs your scalp with his fingers.

he tells you how pretty he thinks you are.

kinda prefers to be the little spoon, so he can feel your warmth around him.

Zeffirelli B.

doesn't know what he's doing, but he is willing to learn.

you have to initiate and teach him everything.

he has a hard time laying still.

he isn’t used to affection and he’s inexperienced.

but he does press his crotch into your bum.

[writerscafehub]

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑❜𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

/) /)

( • ༝•)

c /づ づ 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 all the works made by the very talented members of the writer's café server in the month of MAY. we ask, and highly encourage, that you reblog them in support. ♡

ALL WORKS ARE FOR THOSE 18+ ONLY.

𖥔 indicates smut

✶ indicates dark elements

By ☁︎☽ Cocoa ☁︎☽ @cocoamoonmalfoy @darksideofthecocoamoon

𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 | Life’s Perfect Ache!Paul Atreides x Pharao Hekau

I guess there’s nothing more romantic than dying with your friends

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊-𝐎’-𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 

Writing Challenge

𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 | biker!Loki Laufeyson x black!Reader. Single parents AU

the past shows up on your doorstep. So much has changed, but some things are painfully the same…

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Tsu’tey x black!fem!reader

Established relationship flash fiction

✶ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 | soft!dark!Eivor Varinsdóttir x black!reader

Soft!dark cuddling

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  | Vampire!Timothée Chalamet x werewolf!black!reader

How could you let them do this to you? How could you let them turn you into a monster? I guess you never learn 'til you live and you lost it. Live and you lost it

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 | Paul Atriedes x privateer!black!reader

Everything you have earned is a ship. With blue waves crashing into it. But nothing can touch your happy thoughts anymore. With your glass ceiling, walls, and floor

By ★ Jen ★ @jen-with-a-pen

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀

By ❥ Courtney ❥ @chasingmidnights

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒: 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | Charles Blackwood x female!reader

A brief look at the past. 

By ⚔︎ Suz ⚔︎ @targaryenvampireslayer

𖥔𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | DILF!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

You think about quitting your part time job as a babysitter for the older and gorgeous Bucky Barnes, but he convinces you to stay.

By ✵ Selene ✵ @fluffyprettykitty

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀

By ☆ Stella ☆ @a-lumos-in-the-nox

𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄’𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Neville Longbottom x black!female OC

its cousin Maddy's wedding day & Neville is a wreck

𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 | Neville Longbottom x black!female OC

Charlotte’s Family Tree

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐋’𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐓 | Neville Longbottom x black!female OC

A blurb about the roast at Marcel's wedding, Ruby and Margo dont hold back lol

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Neville Longbottom x black!female OC

Ruby and Neville visit his parents at St. Mungos

By ☄︎ Ellie ☄︎ @mrsmischief209

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒 | Vampire Bucky X Witch fem Reader.

Sequel to When the Leaves Fall

𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 | Alpha!Steve Rogers x omega!fem reader

Angst and activism in an Omegaverse/Soulmate AU

By ✯ Vic ✯ @sunflowersteves

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀

By ⎈ Navy ⎈ @navybrat817

𝐉𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑 | Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 

Bucky put a mouthy rookie in his place.

✶𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Chapter Summary: You encounter an unexpected visitor in your home.

By 𐀔 Alex 𐀔 @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀

By ✬ Astro ✬ @eulalielatibule

𝐇𝐎𝐓-𝐓𝐎-𝐆𝐎 | Pairing: Cheerleader!Jake Jensen x Cheerleader!Reader x Quarterback!Ari Levinson

Summary: You and your boyfriend, Jake Jensen, want to hook up with your rival team's Quarterback, Ari Levinson.

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀

By 𖤓Liz𖤓 @avengers-resident-idiot

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀

By ✧Bella✧ @madwomansapologist

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 | marcille donato x falin touden

Marcille being hungry for knowledge isn't a novelty. Unless the subject is chickens.

By ⚡︎Viva⚡︎ @xoxovivafics

𖥔𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | Astarion Ancunin x Loki Odinson

Loki visits a strange new realm and meets an intriguing stranger.

© all works belong to the respective writers of the writers café server.

[ginnyluvstimmy]

[ . . . about me ] ☆

@ginnysgraffiti new profile!! ←

• ginny, she.her

• timothée, taylor russel, home!

• northern italy (near crema)📍 :>

• lee, elio, willy wonka, hal, paul atreides

• drama club, hip-pop, singing, writing, drawing, music, editing, japanese/korean learner, experienced delulu

• drama scripts, starbucks, manga, cookies, ramen, blankets, loose sweaters, freckles, ginger hair, picture of the sky, cuddles

• harry styles, lana del ray, indila, diodato, dua lipa, imagine dragons, ariana grande, lady gaga, rihanna, queen, stromae, adele

• stray kids, enhypen, txt, lesserafim, bp, 8turn

• night vibes

english isn't my first language so please have mercy on me :,)

 　 　　　

[nightmarefuele]

Yes yes yes. Good rodent. Is this why the witches covet their failures? Too precious to dispense. You were a shining thing since before you pushed out your mother's legs.

The cloud sound comes up Paul's throat muddy. Feyd-Rautha tastes it through their conjoined bone. His temple curves low, and slots within Paul's hawk cheekbone.

It's the ritual or the gross smog of the planet whole; he gets the serrated palm, frozen pain. His own throat somewhere squeezing, a ring of its ophidian own. Feyd-Rautha dips deeper. Plying, ohh, palate's almost rough, what else have you swallowed? The squid tongue flicks like it's testing, just a test, just to be sure. Aw, it's not feeling safe.

It doesn't care now and didn't hours ago.

His thigh grazes the pliant underside of Paul's. ❛ You want to come. ❜ to Giedi. (not really, not how it eats you, but) ❛ You want. ❜ Feyd-Rautha flexes around Paul's little belly, his soft, comfortable nausea— rolling, Feyd's narcoleptic rolling toward it. He wants to get a peek too.

He's shoulders around shoulders, the one with a child gasp of air that's about to trickle afferent sobs. Feyd-Rautha climbs the ant-blind hand. Fat of thumb and such slender fingers. He'd break them like twigs. Someday, Atreides, (he pets the fingers through his knuckles), someday soon.

Feyd-Rautha's teeth go to Paul's cheek biteless, just sterile flats. Molars rub and pinch membrane on the other side of the soft that cuddles his nose. What's it like inside. He strokes a uvula; supplementary oxygen,

Intubation. Let's hear you perform. Rautha curls his dog-leg forceps down the base wet of Paul's tongue, all humid, flowering red and fertile under pink sun. He pinions the Atreides ill, hard.

No no no—

Paul judders. The back of his neck pulls, whiplashed. He shrinks in the white-hot inverted pleasure. The scooped sound locks where he gets sick, spooned out of his very insides before he feels it up on his tongue, that something bad coming.

His arm is too loose. His skin is on wrong, glaring red side out. This isn’t for anyone’s eyes, but he can’t help it, it’s everywhere——his lips are full——of fingers and a carbonated pressure fizzing into his head like stars: black fireworks.

The fat pockets on the soup of his vision swim around Feyd-Rautha’s trespass, and he holds the hurt in for as long as he can.

Something isn’t right. The way his body is being handled and has been, every bit the puppet that pushed out of Lady Jessica, that was kneaded to prop Fremen legend.

The Duke of Caladan, with a wall at his back that has a name.

Sweat prickles at his hairline. Feyd-Rautha is too big. His lack of grace is medical, prying Paul where he’s sharpest, wanting in like a palate expander. As if that’s where he should be.

Belatedly, like that could make it all small, Paul’s mouth opens on the added-up too-much. He dwells, clammed. He recalls a nudge—Feyd-Rautha hilting his gifted knife into Paul’s hand like some strange dowry; Feyd-Rautha moaning from inside the water rings. Paul is on the brink of grasping.

His exhale is too serene to be true. Afraid of what is to come, his tongue bunches at the root. In that, it goes liquid at the tip. The short underneath of Feyd-Rautha’s nail tastes like the spiced metal it skimmed in the hoard.

[crescenthistory]

you are my favourite silence

Pairing: Paul Atreides x Reader

Summary: Jessica's lecture and the eventual nightmare-catalysed-reunion, from Paul's tortured, yearning perspective. Based on "in the silence, there is an us".

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: not proofread, angst, hurt/comfort, references to nightmares, intense yearning, descriptions of anxiety and panic, feeling like the world is demanding too much of you, being super in love but not able to say it out loud, cuddling, lady jessica being a c*ckblock/heartbreaker

***

In the face of change, of being pushed into the final phase of growing up, Paul wanted to cling to you like a lifeline. To the gentle rhythm that once existed between him and you, the one he felt becoming more and more unbalanced as the world around dumped expectations on you both. He almost had not noticed it happening at first. You had grown up beside him, a constant presence, and yet now, each time he glanced your way, he was increasingly aware of what could be taken from him. He was only just beginning to grasp how much he cared for you, and the idea that you might feel like you did not belong here, or worse, being shown you do not, made something twist deep inside him.

Sitting beside you in the library, Paul could hear his mother’s words – sharp and pointed, even as he believed they were meant to guide. His whole body felt tense, not because of Jessica’s talk of duty, or the future he would soon shoulder, but because of you. Because he knew what her gaze did to you, how it picked at the part of you that never felt enough. When Jessica moved on to discuss personal relationships, the weight of her underlying meaning came pressing down, and Paul could barely keep his attention on her. His eyes flicked toward you, searching for any sign that her words were cutting too deep. Even when scolded himself, all he could think about is how it would affect you.

He hated this. Hated the way his mother’s eyes would linger on you, as though you were being measured and found wanting. It wasn’t true, but he knew you felt it. He could see it in the way you lowered your head, trying to hide from the sharpness of her tone. His jaw clenched. You were not some distraction, you were his best friend, and that should count for something. You were the reason he could breathe when it all felt either too small or too big.

When the speech was finally over and Jessica left them alone, Paul let out a breath, half-realising he did not listen to a word she said towards the end. The silence between the two of you felt heavy, thicker than it should have been. You should have been able to laugh it off together, snicker at his mother’s dramatics, but he knew you would not do that anymore. He risked a glance at you. His heart sinking at the way you avoided looking back. 

“She didn’t mean it like that,” he said, voice low, unsure how else to cut through the tension. When you didn’t respond, he moved closer, needing to bridge the growing distance. “She’s just worried. That’s all. My mother –”

“Your mother is always worried,” you cut in sharply, and Paul flinched. The tone in your voice was one you rarely ever used on him, only in your worst moments. He knew what it meant. You were pulling away, not just from the conversation, but from him. He could feel it. He wanted to stop it, wanted to reach out and pull you back to where you belonged, beside him. “Maybe she has a point. I’ve been distracting you. I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t keep coming to you.”

No.

Paul’s chest tightened as you began to move, began to slip from his grasp. Before he could even think, his hands moved on their own, gently but firmly gripping yours, desperate to ground you. “No,” he said aloud, his voice more forceful than he intended. “You haven’t been distracting me. You’ve... you’ve been keeping me sane. It’s not the same thing.”

He didn’t have the words. Not really. Not for what he was trying to say. All he needed was for you to understand, to know how important you were to him, but no words were worthy in the moment. His mother could never see it the way he did, she was too caught up in her visions for his future to realise when the only future he cared about was right in front of his nose. She didn’t understand how all the qualities that could make him a good duke were the ones you brought out of him.

He could see your brows twitch in the way they do when you are holding back tears. “But your mother thinks –”

“I don’t care what my mother thinks.”

The words tumbled out before he could stop them, and for a brief moment, Paul felt a surge of panic. He blinked, startled by his own admission that he had not realised rang so true for him, but he didn’t let go of your hands. His grip tightened slightly, and he looked at you, willing you to understand all he could not say. “I don’t care what she thinks about the time we spend together,” he continued, trying to keep his voice level. “She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning, like the world’s pressing in from every side, and you’re just. Alone.”

She doesn’t know you’re the lifeboat. 

“Whenever I’m with you, it’s the only time I don’t feel that way,” he confessed, his voice raw. He was laying it all out, unsure if he was saying the right things or making things worse, but he couldn’t stop himself. It felt like he was pleading a case. “You’re not a distraction. You’re the only thing that keeps me steady.”

He saw the way your eyes briefly squeezed shut, the blush still remaining in your cheeks, the slightly quivering curve of your mouth, all that internal struggle on your beautiful face. It tore him apart. You wanted to argue, he could see that, but something held you back. Paul wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. He felt you giving up instead of giving in, as you softly said, “We just need to be more careful.”

Careful. That word grated against his every instinct. Paul didn’t want careful. He wanted you, the way you had always been – close, inseparable. 

But then you said, “We can’t keep hiding away in each other’s rooms. We can’t... we can’t keep acting like kids.”

Paul’s heart sank, his body sagging slightly as he was giving up, too. Not on you, on himself, on his situation. He rubbed at his face, trying to shake the helplessness threatening to take over. You were right, but it felt painfully wrong.

“But we’re not acting like kids,” he muttered, trying to keep you from slipping too far away. 

“Aren’t we?” you whispered, your voice filled with something that sounded like heartbreak. “We’re literally sneaking into each other’s beds in the middle of the night, Paul. We’re still pretending like nothing’s changed.”

Paul didn’t have a response. Not immediately, too caught up with the ache in his chest as his disturbance turned existential. Why must sharing a close connection with someone, being tethered by someone, be a thing of only childhood? He felt he needed it more and more the older he got. Yet, he knew better than anyone all he had to do and all he had to be, and that it was time to step up to the challenge. But that didn’t mean he wanted to lose this, lose you, at least this part of you it felt he had always possessed. The idea that things had to change, that you couldn’t be the way you had always been – it was unbearable.

“Nothing has changed though,” he finally said, aiming for conviction. “Not between us.”

Deep down, Paul knew you were right. Everything had changed, just not in the way you were currently discussing, and he didn’t know what to do with it. He was not ready to face it. 

When you stood up to leave, the panic flared again in his chest. He wanted to reach for you, to stop you, to pull you back down beside him. Show you why you had to stay. He did anything but, he could only watch as you walked away, leaving him behind with the oppressive atmosphere of the library. His finger tips lingered on your seat as he clung to your promise: I will see you tomorrow. Even that small promise felt like a lifeline made of plastic.

Paul stared at the spot where you left, the weight of the future settling heavily on his shoulders. 

The following weeks, Paul did everything in his power to bury the gnawing unease that twisted inside him. He cherry-picked from his continuing lectures from his mother, trying to keep only the positives and leave out all the doom everyone seemed to hand him these days. The tension that hung between you only worsened in the silence of the castle’s long nights. You had always shared a restlessness after dark, a sort of curse that made sleep seem impossible unless you were together. But after his mother’s warnings about appearances and responsibilities, Paul felt obligated to put distance between you, to keep his emotions in check. At least for as long as you claimed that was what you wanted, too.

God, he hated it.

At first, he tried to do everything right, tried to focus more on his studies, his duties, his pretenses. He could not afford to slip up, not when he was being watched so closely, not when he was meant to prove himself a future Duke. But the more he tried to be the person he was expected to be, the more he felt himself, Paul, not the future duke of House Atreides, unraveling. 

Every moment spent apart from you gnawed at him, like a thread slowly being pulled loose from the fabric of his mind. His concentration splintered; during meetings, his eyes trailed to the door, wondering if you would ever walk in, during training, his movements felt sluggish, his mind always wandering to whether you were okay, whether you missed him too.

The longer you kept your distance, the harder it became to focus on anything but you and the looming elephant that was your friendship.

He soaked up every interaction you had like a parched man trying to survive in the desert. Even something as simple as sitting beside you during meals or brushing past you in the hallways felt like a lifeline. He clung to those moments, storing them away like precious memories, replaying them in his mind when he found himself alone. He knew you still saw each other a relatively normal amount, the amount usual friends dedicate to each other – but it was far from enough.

During it all you kept up your facade too well for Paul’s state. It was like you practiced it all when you could not sleep at night, you were polite, composed, like nothing had changed between you. Paul knew you better, of course. He could see through it, see the cracks forming beneath the surface. The bags forming under your eyes, the strain on your smiles, the flickering of your gaze when met by any member of the Atreides family now. You were just as affected by this distance as he was, but you were better at hiding it from everyone but him. It only made him want to reach out more, to break through that wall, to remind you that you didn’t have to carry this alone.

Paul sat beside you at the long wooden table in the dining hall, trying to act as though nothing had changed. The usual hum of formalities and business between his tutors, his mother, and the few remaining nobles blurred into a background buzz. All of it felt irrelevant compared to the tension sitting between you and him. He tried to tell himself the change was not that large, out of all the seats in the room, you were still sat together. 

He sneaked a glance at you from the corner of his eye. You were sitting perfectly still, your posture as composed and graceful as you had been trained to be, eyes downcast as you picked at the meal in front of you. On the surface, you looked calm, indifferent even, but Paul could see it so easily. The way your fingers gripped your knife a little too tight, the way your shoulders tensed as if trying to make yourself smaller, invisible. It’s not the same.

Despite his appetite having long since vanished, Paul tried to take a bite of his food. Beside him, you sipped your water, eyes flicking up just once to meet his before darting away again. The briefest connection, but it hit him like a shockwave. He was desperate for more of you, the real you, not this version that was carefully packaged to meet the standards of the room.

A thought ran through his head and before he could compose himself, Paul’s foot nudged yours lightly under the table. A small, almost childlike gesture. His heart raced, wondering if you would acknowledge it, if you would look at him like you used to. When you glanced his way, a flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, a sign that you were still there, but it withered away fast.

You straightened in your seat, breaking eye contact, your attention turning back to your plate. A clear signal that you couldn’t do this, not here. Not now.

Paul’s stomach twisted, and he gripped his fork tighter, his knuckles white against the silver. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. There had been no distance between you before. You used to laugh together, share inside jokes over dinners like this. You used to sneak glances that said everything without needing words. Now, there was just this unbearable restraint. The longer it stretched on, the more suffocating it became.

He wanted so desperately to just be your best friend again, like when you were younger, when things were simple. When sharing a bed was not plagued by conventions or the expectations of his mother. Back then, it had been about adventure and laughter. Now it was about survival for poor Paul, it was all he needed to secure him. He wanted you to know how much he cared, how much he needed you. 

He remained silent.

When night fell, it became unbearable. Alone in his room, Paul felt the weight of everything pressing down on him—the responsibilities, the expectations, the growing distance between the two of you. Sleep evaded him. Each night felt longer than the last, and the silence of the castle, once comforting, now felt suffocating. 

He thought of you constantly. 

He wondered if you were having nightmares, the way you always did when there were no storms to distract you. You never reacted well to the stillness of nights like this, and Paul knew it. He knew you too well. 

Should I go to her? 

The thought flickered in his mind more than once, the worry gnawing at him more than usual, but something held him back. His mother’s words still lingered in the air between you, but more importantly your words. You asked for space, even if the reasons felt as tragic to him as they did. He could not risk making things worse, could not risk losing you completely by overstepping. Nevertheless, the longer he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the more unbearable the thought of doing nothing became.

The hours drifted on, whisking away into the night air streaming in through his cracked open window. He had zeroed in on the sound in hopes it could form a lullaby, but to no avail. In the silence of his room, he heard footsteps in the hallway.

Before he could finish thinking, he was up and out of bed, hand on the door. He was fully expecting to open the door and be met with a wall of nothingness, forced to face how truly delerious he was becoming, but the possibility of any other outcome made him throw the door open without hesitation. 

His pounding heart all but lit up as he saw you standing in the doorway, almost hidden in the darkness. Surprise was etched onto your features and your hand was half-raised, presumably to knock on the door. A relieved smile made it onto your lips, and Paul briefly wondered whether you were aware, or if it was instinct. He breathed your name as a silent thank you to whatever forces brought you back to his doorstep.

In the half-shadows, you looked haunted, and he immediately stepped to the side to make room for you to step back into his world. He had been waiting for you. Hoping, somehow, that you would come to him, that you still needed him the way he needed you. 

You slipped inside quietly, and Paul closed the door behind you, sealing the two of you away from everything – his mother, the expectations, the fear that had been building between you for weeks. His chest tightened as he watched you, taking in the way your shoulders tensed, the way your eyes flicked to his like you weren’t sure if you should be here.

Paul had never been more certain of anything. He needed you here. 

As if your muscle memory controlled your actions, you moved toward the bed, and Paul followed hot on your heels, not willing to let you get too far away from him. There were no words, but there didn’t need to be. You both knew what this was. 

As he watched you climb into his bed, Paul felt something settle in his chest, something that had been fraying ever since the distance had started growing between you. He slid in beside you, immediately wrapping his arm as tightly around your waist as viable and pulling you close.

The quiet of his room that had just felt so suffocating now felt like a refuge. You were his anchor, his constant. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside didn’t feel so heavy. 

He heard your breathing slow as you nestled against him, your head resting on his chest. Without any real thought behind the action, he buried his nose in your hair and breathed you in, feeling every part of his body that was touching yours. He could feel the tremors in your body start to fade, and with them, the knot of worry that had been coiling tighter and tighter inside him began to loosen.

“Are you okay?” Paul whispered, his voice soft, almost afraid of shattering the moment.

You nodded against him, but Paul could feel the weakness in the movement, could feel the words you did not say. In response he held you tighter, his thumb tracing slow, gentle circles on your arm, offering comfort in the only way he knew how.

“I’m glad you came,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it almost didn’t reach his own ears. He had not realized how much he needed to say it until the words were out. “I wanted to come to you, but—” He trailed off, guilt wracking his mind while trying to somehow silence yours. His hand began to trace up and down your bare arm, needing to feel the warmth of your skin to remind himself that you were real, that this moment was real.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with emotion. “I wanted to come sooner.”

Paul didn’t say anything, but his heart ached at the truth in your words. You had wanted to come sooner, but something had kept you back. The same thing that had kept him pacing his room, wondering if he should break the unspoken rules and go to you. Although he had always known, being told that the distance was killing you too felt oddly good.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence between you now felt different, like the quiet after a storm, when the air is charged but peaceful. Paul’s hand drifted up to gently stroke your hair, the motion instinctual, as his other hand held your waist. It was one of the most intimate embraces you had had, and it felt so right, to the point where he did not even question it. He wanted to offer you more than comfort, more than just a place to escape your nightmares. He wanted to give you the world, guaranteed safety. Not just a reprieve or a shelter, but a true home, a good life. But the words weren’t there yet. He didn’t know how to say the way he cared for you, that it was more than just… caring. That you were the only person who had ever made him feel like everything might be okay.

Instead, he whispered, “I’ll always be here. I swear it.” It was close enough for now.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim candlelight, burning low. For a moment, Paul’s breath caught in his throat. He saw everything in that look – your fear, your doubt, your hope. Your care. He craved to kiss you, to close the distance that still felt like it hung between you. Instead, he pressed his lips to the top of your head, a tender, quiet gesture that said everything he couldn’t yet.

Neither of you spoke after that. You simply held each other, the world outside disappearing as you both drifted into a peaceful sleep. Paul finally felt safe.

[avatar-of-procrastination]

Hello! Could I request headcanons abt Paul Atreides having a(n) (also) touchstarved (gn) best friend? Thank you!

CUDDLES

A.N : tysm for the request! This was fun to write !!

(Please pardon my grammar/spelling mistakes. English is not my first language)

(Gifs not mine)

The reason you and Paul got together so well was because of how well you guys understood exactly what the other wanted. You could understand if Paul had a bad day just by his walk and he could see that you had a rough time by your stance.

This meant cuddle sessions. You guys would jump at any chance to cuddle and forget about the world. It was kind of like a routine where you guys would just lay in each others presence, sometimes in peaceful silence, just enjoyinh each others company, or you'd talk about your day.

These sessions were always accompanied by tons of snacks and junk food because once you guys found a comfortable position, there was no getting up

The Duke and Jessica would often find the both of you entangled on the balcony of your bedroom, both blissfully sleeping under the moonlight.

You loved hugging Paul (and vice versa) because nothing compared to the sense of security you felt engulfed in his arms.

[nightmarefuele]

All of mua deeb's curs hang out their mouths blistered and panting. Feyd-Rautha remembers him smelling like their tastebuds and their sweat. All the petting he does.

The hiding.

But Paul doesn't smell like mua deeb, the mouse cuddled inside rotting desert mouths.

Feyd-Rautha pretends lazy on the hook. Paul has calluses like meringue; dirtier, though, than oiled-sweet sweat. Feyd tastes how quick he's splitting off at dendrites; palms the event through Paul's birdcage ribs.

He's preciously thin.

Rautha's fever goes murky, down to the triplet nicks under his chin. The back of his tongue arches, catlike, and swells. It's the opposite of kneeling.

Paul smells— here, at the place where his mother was cut off him— like Rautha. Like one unborn thing so old it's already torrefied through the witches' tree and left scars across their hag-eyed heaven. Does that hoist a plea to this Eye, then? Does it beg that the shell-to-viscera Harkonnen spider is a human?

Did he drip from a womb or several dozen intravenous lines?

Maybe he came from an egg.

Maybe he'll hatch Paul out of his. He'll start by degrading the gift in his mouth. As an experiment.

Would Paul like him like his dogs? Little boy Atre-ides, no you wouldn't. I know you like I know your smell.

Feyd-Rautha tugs him back by his elbow. He tugs Girl's face on its cheek, pitched at an angle, so that she sees. The emperor, oppressor, the Fremen fiend.

Is a starved, droughted boy told too rathely he's a man.

Feyd-Rautha comes close on a grounded knee. Paul is hard. Paul knows he is. He rubs his chin, there, on the pyre Paul's made of himself. Just to keep him honest.

Feyd unscrews his jaw, unwinds his tongue to a pale tine, and licks, dragging. The desert is many-layered for water's sake; here, mua deeb must be years softer, confused at the liquidity to silk. Feyd can draw out his shape down to his dorsal veins.

Here is where Atreides will smell like Giedi.

He doesn’t want it once he gets it. His underbelly jerks inward; the whole of him, instead, toes off the balls of his feet to appease, because what if Feyd-Rautha bites to the other side through him just now, is he hungry—

But it stops before he can tell on himself.

The cords clipped to his heels lengthen when he ankles back even with the floor. He drops in-body like an anchor. The mouthful taken off him—not taken—is a starburst after: a cold object abandoned in space.

A third of his midriff for just one of Feyd-Rautha’s hands. Arrakis had leaned him out to the starving necessary. And yet, he’s never had more heft. It’s the artifice of softness that had gone—now, when he likes, it’s clear to see.

Paul’s eyes are heavier than he remembers. He’s scarcely able to determine if he misses Feyd-Rautha’s mouth. He’ll need it to come back to decide.

The mint crispness of the image slows him. Feyd juts out. He fogs up the lens of Paul’s attention in singularities constellated against the night sky chambers. His collarbones hang solid with that which sets in motion all that thinks itself immovable.

And the gluing stare.

A wolf is no less of one on its haunches. His heart hammers. He’s further and further from guessing what he’s invited in.

Have any of Feyd-Rautha’s toys seen him like this?

Pinched down deep at the temerity, he slits all of his fingers like a zipper at Feyd-Rautha’s nape. Before, now, and after are one chain. Should Paul cherry-pick offenses of the past, it’s but a step’s difference on the staircase.

He kneads the seats of his palms into Feyd-Rautha’s carotids. They hear his thrum. He’s a leather-smooth taunt, cured of all grooves long before Paul got close enough to try. He pets gently, if only to taste what it’s like.

As if intending to nuzzle Feyd-Rautha back in, Paul tenses his wonder hard on the joints of his jaw.

He’s after that scrape off Feyd-Rautha’s throat that did him good. His thumbs from either side fishhook the cheeks to a stretch. Remember, up on the dune. Smile. Paul choking on his own sick. Paul slides inside.

He almost gets burned by the hot oil cooking in Feyd’s mouth. He thrills to the lowermost of his spine, heavy-ribbed. His thighs liquid in the back.

Feyd-Rautha looks a marine being. Ones like these get hunted for jewelry. Paul discovers his shark tooth, abnormal and striking, barely a shape in the non-light.

Lick.

[dunefeather]

Thank you !

I do think I'm going to write Dark!Paul fics, I just don't have ideas for the moment so don't hesitate to drop some ideas if you want to. ;)

The Mute Sounds

Paul Atreides x F!Deaf!Reader

Content : nudity, sexual innuendo, husband/wife, non cannon, deaf!reader, mention of kids, fluff.

Only a few things can comfort Paul's heart the days he feels down. For example, those nights when you can cuddle simply, laying naked on the bed after a quick shower, looking at the rain pouring outside.

Your skin smells the soap you used together and your hair got braid carefully with all the care in the world by two of your maids. Your flesh is warm, not burning hot like earlier but still enjoyable. It's smooth, especially on your shoulders and upper arms. That skin on skin contact so innocent now yet carrying so deep meaning on your bound brings him an incredible joy despite his exhaustion.

As usual your eyes are turned to the rain making the moonlight undulate on the windows. It's a soothing sight to watch you like this as he holds you in his arms. Narrowed eyes, head tilting against his shoulder occasionally... you are thinking. It gets confirmed as you sit up on the bed, your body facing him but your head turned to the window. A bit distracted he blinks, trying to focus on your gestures when you look at him.

"This time have you found a way to describe it ?"

You pause, hesitate before renouncing on the following and drop your hands on your crossed legs. Something hypnotizes you with water, and it's a subject coming back regularly in your conversations. Paul sits up as well, signing back to you.

"Not like a shower. Tonight it's lighter. Carried by the wind and muffled by the walls."

You nod with a strangely serious face that could have made him laugh if he didn't have to struggle against his sleepiness to see your following gestures.

"How would you rank water sounds in intensity ? Would a shower stream be louder than milk dropping in a glass ?"

Milk is something else, as well as all the bubbly beverages you got the opportunity to taste at the court. He should bring you a bottle of that bubbly water at the fruit flavor from last time, for some reason you loved to hold your glass with two hands. He wonders whether you feel vibrations better than him, or just care more about it.

"It depends on many things. What does it falls onto ? Which height."

"Do tears make a sound ?"

"No. Not that we can detect at least."

You turn back to the window, and he lets himself sigh as you leave the comfortable cocoon you have for a bed. Walking away to stand by the curtains, you rest your hand on the glass getting washed out by the water falling from the sky. It's a beautiful view that intrigues him without any sneaky intention. Just the sight of your naked silhouette getting embraced by the moonlight sends a shiver down his spine, enough to make him want to get back under the blankets with him.

You turn around, signing again with a soft smile.

"I love you."

As soon as he extends his arm lazily to you you join him, your lips kissing his cheek as your arms embrace his body. He muffles his yawn against your hair before making you lie down gently, a knowing gaze crossing your playful one.

"I love you too but we had enough fun for tonight."

"Are you sure ?"

He ignores the way you extend your legs in the hair to attract his attention and he decides to talk out loud for once, without signing.

"Tell me you love me."

You blink in confusion, signing slowly.

"Are you tired of talking with me like this ? I'm sorry I wasn't focused on your lips. Can you repeat please ?"

How impressive it is to see you unfazed by the Voice. Such a powerful tool that could lead the being under it's grasp to do the most unnameable things. And you you merely excuse yourself because you weren't focused on his lips. It's frustrating and insanely hot to him.

"Tell me you love me."

You smile and giggle a bit before trying. Your words are a bit slurred but you manage to get it quite right. You insisted on trying to imitate the sounds leaving his mouth after you discovered he could sign skillfully. And just because that was incredibly adorable of you he decides to taunt you out loud.

"If I could I would make love to you all night repeating it in your ear."

You hide your face behind your hands as he chuckles, addressing you a glare he knows to be flustering for you.

"We could try another time when you are not tired ?"

He smiles at your genuine question.

"I can't. It's biological. Twice if I'm really in the mood but no more."

"Do I make sounds ?"

He didn't think you would ask this. For him it's pretty obvious of course but yes, that precise aspect escaped him.

"You do."

"Is it good sounding for you ?"

Visibly anxious you get closer to him, and right now he wants to show you that yes you sound great. He caresses your cheek gently, his gaze capturing yours as the thought of using the Voice gets tempting. If only. If only he could make it as simple as a raw order such as "lie down", "listen to yourself", "love your voice" as he takes you with all his affection.

"It is beautiful. I know you like our little moments."

Punctuating his sentence with a boyish grin he manages to turn you into a melting mess swelling his ego as you hide your face against his neck. You're sweet. Just holding you like this is a treat to him.

Then just like that you get to your side of the bed, signing before getting under your blankets.

"Do rainbows make sounds ?"

"Don't change the subject little one."

He joins you, his body pressing against yours as you try to keep your calm under his gaze. Maybe the Voice is overrated now that he knows how much you are sensitive to his facial expressions.

"It was an actual question."

"What do you think they sound like ?"

You think for a while, looking up at the window. Your exposed neck gets covered in butterfly kisses and Paul chuckles at the moan you let out unknowingly before resuming your discussion neutrally.

"Like wind. But I don't feel vibrations from them. So... wind from afar and high in the sky. Muffled like behind walls."

"They don't make any."

You freeze, offense agitating your features.

"What ? So wind makes sounds, birds, bugs, rain, bananas, windows, flags, book sheets or horses hooves, but not something as big as those things ?"

"They're only a matter of colors. Not solid, not moving. They don't even reach out planet."

"My whole childhood was a lie. I got told tales of rainbows singing to the people living beneath."

For a while you keep signing angrily more to yourself. You don't even look at him anymore and he starts to regret how upset you got. It's not directed to him but you were about to fall asleep in his arms before you started the conversation about rain. That was the perfect sight to make him succumb to his own slumber.

He slides deeper under the blankets, your arms stopping by themselves as you sigh then join him, his fingers caressing your bare back.

"I love you. I wish the rainbows could make sounds."

You rise your head to look at him, interrogating him in silence on the nature of the vibrations from his throat. And just like that, caressing your hair, he lets the most precious thing out of his chest.

"I wish our future kids to be able to discover the world with both of our vision of things."

Your eyes widen before he closes his during your kiss, allowing himself to moan at the passion you show. It feels good to feel his dreams desired as well. He wants to extend his bloodline with you more than ever, proud of his future children and you. He hopes next time will be the one.

- - - -

Thank you for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked it ! 😊

[violetrainbow412-blog]

req for paul if thats ok 👉👈 maybe something like reader feeling out of place after the move to arrakis and feels unsettled on their first night in the new palace, so after not being able to fall asleep they seek out paul for comfort? and cuddling ensues 👉👈

Fears [P. A]

Paul Atreides x reader

Word count: 2k

You walked around in your bed, for the thousandth time, until you finally gave up on the idea of ​​being able to conceive the dream.

It was your first night in Arrakis and you still couldn't get away from terrible nausea that the planet change had caused you.

For some reason you had been worried and scared all day, consumed by the uncertainty of what would happen in your future. It was not the first time this happened, since you were little you had been quite a reluctant person to change, but now you were an adult and you were supposed to have the maturity to face what happened on your own.

You left your room, barefoot and covered by a light cotton nightgown, trying that a walk through the corridors of the new palace would help you clear your mind.

But contrary to what you expected that only made you more uneasy because the darkness haunted the place that was now unknown to you. In the other palace, in Caladan, at least you knew all the shadows and figures perfectly. It was not like this here.

Somehow you managed to find your way to the rooms and stopped behind the door of one in particular.

You and Paul have known each other practically since you were born. Your parents, noblemen who were close friends of the Atreides family, had died in a strange accident when you were a baby and since then the family has sheltered you in their home.

You had been raised as if you were their own daughter and to Paul, you were like a sister to another mother. Everything he knew and what you knew was thanks to the moments you had shared. He had taught you to fight, he had read you stories from all over the universe countless times and you had helped him a little with the matter of his manners and the behavior that he must have in front of society. Paul was extremely shy for as long as you could remember and you had always helped him control that shyness when you were in public. I daresay that helping him became an incentive for you to stop being so self-conscious. Your relationship was based on codependency that only strengthened over the years until feelings beyond fraternal began to emerge. Spending every day together ended in the inevitable and you both fell in love.

For some years you denied it, as your feelings began to change with adolescence. When you were little you walked hand in hand everywhere, you slept together in the living room and played on the beach. But when you grew older that touch of your hands began to blush your cheeks and sleeping hugged was almost unthinkable. The games on the beach turned into sneak walks and hours of swimming where both of you tried not to look at each other's wet bodies.

Now that time had passed and the responsibilities of adult life were just around the corner and you had time for yourselves and that was another reason you were scared.

Paul would have to become a duke, live in a different world than yours with different obligations. Perhaps he would have to fight battles, arrange diplomatic affairs, and worst of all: one day he would have to marry to preserve the lineage of House Atreides.

The idea that he had to marry with some girl were more scared than you had to because it would be more difficult for you to watch him be happy with someone else than to have to pretend love for your future husband.

You had long since stopped asking for Paul's support when something ailed you, not because he was unwilling but because you felt he had no obligation to put up with your childhood fears.

But that day you really wanted, no, you needed a hug from your best friend to silence all the voices inside your head. Suddenly another fear came to you because you thought that maybe he had changed so much that he would now send you back to your room telling you that it was time to grow up.

What if he didn't answer? What if he got annoyed by your presence in his room in the middle of the night? What if he had his own problems and now he didn't want to carry yours anymore?

You stood for God knows how many minutes and you were afraid that your body would not respond and you would have to stay on that tightrope for the rest of the night, hugging yourself for comfort.

Until the sound of the door opening made you jump in place and the sight of Paul made you pale.

"Y/N?" he asked confused. He didn't look sleepy, but he did look a bit tired. He was wearing dark pants and a white shirt that was ajar, letting you see part of his white skin. His hair was tousled and you wanted to reach out to comb it, as you had countless times "What are you doing here?"

You froze for a few moments, unable to speak, and I would even say a little disoriented. You didn't know if you were dreaming or if Paul was really in front of you.

"Nothing" you managed to stutter, shortly before he said something else "I... I got lost a bit, and... I wanted to go out to clear my mind, but for some reason, I ended up here" you exclaimed. You didn't even know what you were saying and you felt silly about it.

"Are you sure?" he asked worriedly, approaching carefully and bending down to be at your height "I know you like the back of my hand, I know you can't sleep when things are not going well"

"Neither do you" expressed, regaining your awareness of reality.

"Sorry?" he asked confused.

"You can't sleep either" you observed and he smiled at you.

"It's because things are not going very well" he confessed, sharing a sad look with you. His hands were placed on your bare arms and he hissed "How can you be freezing when we are literally in the desert?" he asked amused, as he pulled you in his direction and wrapped his arms around you. Your unprotected chest collided with his and his hand was placed on your lower back as he guided you into his room.

In the middle of it, all was a holographic projection of what appeared to be somewhere on Arrakis that caught your eye.

"Is this why you can't sleep?" you asked. You had already separated and Paul had his hands in his trouser pockets, which made him look most attractive.

"Rather it's what I'm doing while I can't sleep. At least I want to be a bit productive" he smiled at you, from the other side of the projection "Do you remember when we were little and spent hours learning about anything interesting to us?" he murmured wistfully. Both of you started walking around the hologram, always facing each other.

"Your mother used to scold us for preferring to stay at home than go out to play," you said, with a small smile.

"Do you remember when we escaped to the basement of the palace to continue hearing our story?" he asked him and you laughed when the memory came to you "How old were we? Ten?"

"Eight" you corrected "We were about to celebrate your 9th birthday"

"I remember it! That year you gave me a friendship bracelet or something like that" he told you and you blushed with embarrassment at remembering how horrible that accessory was "I still have it, if you ask," he admitted kindly.

"I know you do" you replied. For a second you had forgotten about the thought that haunted you from the beginning and when Paul talked about how happy you were in the past the feeling came back. And of course, your boy noticed that sudden change in your expression.

"You want to talk?" he exclaimed approaching you, with cautious steps. Everything about Paul was like this: cautious and elegant. His movements, his stance... more than a duke, he looked like a prince.

"No, no. It's nothing" you replied, but when you saw him raise his eyebrow you knew that your answer did not convince him at all. That was a gesture that he made unconsciously, you knew it better than anyone "Well, actually I'm just a little uneasy about... the change of environment"

"What makes you uncomfortable?" he asked curiously, again bending his body slightly so he could watch you.

"Everything, Paul" you exclaimed, deciding to be honest with him once and for all "It overwhelms me a lot to think about what will happen, what we are going to do if this doesn't work, what the emperor will say" you were silent for a second, thinking on whether it would be wise to continue talking "And I'm worried about what will happen to us"

"Us?"

“I am concerned that we will go our separate ways. I'm worried that something will happen to you… the desert is dangerous," you just said, fearing to reveal information that would be compromising. While it was true that you were worried about his well-being, you were also worried about the idea of ​​having to part with him.

Paul smiled fondly and closed the distance between them with a warm hug.

"Nothing will happen to me, calm down" he whispered against your hair. You buried your head in his neck and your nostrils were impregnated with his characteristic aroma, the one that always evoked only peace and security “And neither do you. I'll take care of you myself,” he promised, holding your body carefully. He was afraid too, perhaps more than you, but the thought of protecting you from what was coming motivated him to become brave. Not only for him but also for you.

"I love you too much to lose you" you exclaimed sincerely, long before your brain could even think about it.

Paul held his breath at your words and you leaned closer against his body to stifle the fear that the boy would interpret it as a loving confession. You had told him a thousand times that you loved him, but… this time it seemed to sound different. He was no longer a childish "I love you" you used to say to him when you went out for a walk. It was an "I love you" said in the dark, in his arms, after moving to a strange planet where you both feared the worst.

He didn't want to answer, because he knew that his heart was treacherous and he would end up telling you what he had guarded so suspiciously for years. Instead, he pulled you slightly out of his embrace and placed a soft but lasting kiss on your forehead. And even this gesture looked different, saying so many things at once that both of you couldn't ignore at that point.

"I won't let anything happen to us," he murmured, finding the courage to speak to the depths of his body. He looked into your eyes, which seemed to him the most beautiful he had ever seen and tenderly stroked your face in an attempt to reassure and reassure himself.

You parted with him, but only to guide him with his hand to the messy bed he had previously been sitting on and let him lie down first and then get between his legs and rest your head on his chest.

Paul didn't complain, but he hugged you with both hands and guided his head until his nose hit your hair, trying to fall asleep that way. It was thus that he slept with the tranquility of having extra weight on his body and you thanks to the constant pounding of his heart, without knowing that it belonged to you for a long time.

TAGLIST: @cookiewhoree @lrpau

If you want to appear in my taglist, click HERE

[alaynes-writings]

Secret affair

Summary: You and Paul kept your relationship hidden for way too long and when you confront him about it he asks a question you didn’t expect.

Pairing: Paul Atreides x reader (gender neutral)

A/N: Finally finished this one, hope y’all like it. Unfortunately my dad wasn’t able to save my files but I stayed up late last night, trying to write everything down that I could remember. I don’t have an eidetic memory, so I still have to write a lot, but I hope I can get out the first request this weekend. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy!

                                                      ---

This secret affair between Paul and you had been going on for way too long. You knew that. Some days you thought about ending it, thought about confronting him. You were tired of acting casually whenever you saw him in the hallways or at dinner. But every time you were back in his arms again or when he kissed you, like he did know, all of those thoughts vanished and you wanted nothing more than to have him like this forever.

You had sneaked into his room, the second time this week, unseen only thanks to Duncan, who was the only one who know about you two. Even though your family was not of low rank, it also wasn’t enough to be with the son of a Duke, you knew that. But against all odds you had fallen in love with Paul and he had fallen in love with you and when he had kissed you that one night, you both knew that you couldn’t stay away from each other.

His room was dark, moonlight shining through the windows and the only sound were quiet gasps and moans from both of you.

Paul’s head was buried in your neck, kissing the sensitive skin, trailing down to your collarbone, his hands roaming all over your body.

You were breathing heavily, your whole body felt like it was on fire with desire for him and it was hard not to just rip his clothes off and forget about the consequences. That was the line you hadn’t crossed yet. Some nights were spent with talking and cuddling, some nights were spent with heavy make-out sessions until you had to leave with your head still spinning, but you both knew you couldn’t go farther than that.

You could tell Paul was struggling to hold back too by the way he panted against your skin, trying not to get lost in the pleasure.

Your hands were buried in his hair, now completely disheveled, the way you liked it the most and you brought his face up so you could kiss him again.

He pressed his body against yours, making you feel how much he wanted this too. And even though you wanted nothing more than to just give in, you knew you couldn’t and pressed your hand against his chest warningly. He got the hint, your passionate kiss becoming slower and more gentle until he pulled away with a gasp.

“I’ve missed you.” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours.

“You saw me this morning.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he climbed off of you, laying down beside you.

“Yes. But that doesn’t count. I didn’t even get to talk to you with all those people around.”

With his parents around especially, you thought. You hadn’t expected that the topic would come up so quickly, but now you couldn’t let this opportunity pass without trying to talk to him.

“Paul, I need to ask you something.”

He seemed surprised at your suddenly serious tone but didn’t say anything, just waiting for you to continue, his whole attention on you.

“What is this between us? Where is it supposed to lead?”

“What do you mean?” he asked carefully.

“I mean that I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of acting like we barely know each other when I see you anywhere outside of this room. I can’t continue like this.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest, the words finally out, but you couldn’t keep your eyes on his anymore. You averted your gaze to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. He was quiet and you wondered what he was thinking now. If he would push you away now, if he maybe never had really felt for you what you felt for him. He had said that he loved you before, he told you every night you spent together, but did he really mean it? Would you lose him now?

“You remember that day we took a walk on the beach?” you asked when he didn’t say anything.

“Of course I do.”

“I thought you would ask me to marry you.” you blurted out. You remembered that day so clearly, how nice it had felt to be together during the day, to just walk freely, to be able to hold his hand, to kiss him and not be afraid someone could see you. The whole atmosphere had been so romantic, the beach, the sunset, everything. You had really thought he might ask you that question. Maybe some part of you had wished for it so badly you just over interpreted everything. It was after that day you started realizing that this wasn’t enough. That you wanted more.

“Would you have said yes, if I had asked you?”

That question caught you by surprise, making you look at him again. You had expected him to find an excuse, to tell you that it wasn’t possible, maybe even laugh at you for being so foolish. But you hadn’t expected this.

You hesitated. He was propped up on his elbow, his expression unreadable to you and you hated that. It made you feel like you were the only one who had to get vulnerable. But if you couldn’t be now, then what was the point of all this? All of your thoughts from the previous weeks were running through your head, all the times you had thought about asking him what exactly this was between you two and you swallowed hard as you struggled to keep your eyes locked on his.

“Yes.”, you answered eventually, with a shaky exhale. “I’d have said yes.”

It felt relieving to say it out loud. You were still scared, but nonetheless a weight had been lifted off your shoulders by admitting that you wanted more than this. You wanted to be more than a secret.

His expression softened at your answer and he lowered his head, letting out a shaky laugh.

“I really wasn’t sure what you would say, you know?”

He was silent for a few moments as you waited for him to continue. When he raised his head again to look at you, you noticed a nervousness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“And now? Would you still say yes?”

“What do you mean?”, you asked, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“I mean-”, he said, reaching over to his nightstand to get something from his drawer and even in the dim light you could make out the ring he was holding in front of you now.

“- that I wanted to ask you to marry me for weeks, but every time I was too scared you would reject me. I wanted to ask you to marry me that day at the beach, I had it all planned. But I was too scared that this wasn’t what you wanted and that I would loose you if I asked that question.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You were pretty sure that your heart had just skipped a beat and for the first time in your life you were completely speechless, your brain unable to form any coherent sentence.

You could see that your reaction made him nervous, now there was a vulnerability in his eyes as he was searching your face for any signs that you were uncomfortable with this and he swallowed hard before he continued.

“I realized that I wanted more than this, that I wanted you, all of you, not just in the dark or in hidden corners or when no one was watching. So let me ask you this time, before my courage leaves me, will you marry me? Will you take me as your husband?”

“Of course.” you whispered breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss.

You could feel him smile against your lips and you can’t stop the giggle that escapes you when he starts peppering your whole face with kisses.

“Give me your hand.” he whispered and you held out your right hand to him, watching as he pushed the ring to your finger, gently kissing your knuckles.

You stared at it for a few seconds, trying to comprehend that this was all real.

“You could really have done this sooner. It would have spared me a few sleepless nights and lots of worries.” you teased and he smiled sheepishly.

“I was just scared that you didn’t want this. That you didn’t want me.”

“I can’t believe you really doubted what I felt for you.” you scolded him playfully and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. Even though I have to admit I had something more romantic in mind when I thought about asking you.”

You shook your head fondly, your gaze wandering to the ring on your finger again.

“It was perfect.”