#paul gardener x reader

[endless-ineffabilities]

too soon to tell you I love you!

Ewan Mitchell x f!reader

a/n: another random Ewan oneshot, as a result of @seamaiden indulging my delusions 💛

main masterlist

It's not often that you bump into one of your favourite actors at the pub... or he bumps into you.

It is just another night out on the town, and your mates managed to convince you to have a couple of drinks out in Covent Garden.

There's a really good pub you haven't been to apparently, but you know your friends, and they would think a pub is stellar as long as there is free-flowing alcohol inside.

It's a pub, you typed in the group chat, what could be so special about it? I kinda want to stay in tonight.

It will be special cos we'll be in it, one of them replied.

And that was the end of it. No room for negotiation when a night out is involved, but you adore your close-knit band of rascals, so you're hardly fazed.

The three of you are snug in a booth, the first round of drinks already imbibed and wreaking havok in your livers.

"Another round, guys, c'mon," Paul says, slamming his hands down on the wooden table, ever the charming instigator.

"You want another, you be the one to fetch it," Gracie smirked, wagging a finger at him.

"But I got this one! Lay off me, mate. It's someone else's turn now, that's how the system is, let's be civil about this—"

"Oh my god," you cut him off with a teasing laugh, "you really will say anything to get out of getting another round, won't you?" You share a conspiratorial wink with Gracie.

Paul gapes like a blubbering fish. "Hey! But I got the first round—"

"Alright, alright, drama queen," you stand from your seat, patting his shoulder in a mock comforting manner, "I'll cover this round."

"Huzzah! I love you!"

You roll your eyes fondly. "Oh, get a grip. I'll be right back."

It's a Friday night, so traversing the cramped confines of the pub feels like walking into a battefield. You have to shimmy past patrons filing in and out, those standing around tables like flocks of flamingo instead of sitting as they should, lads too focused on the match on the telly to notice when you first mutter excuse me, pardon me.

Then someone, much to your increased annoyance, bumps right into you from behind. You're thrown off kilter when you feel an elbow shoved in between your shoulder blades, making you step on your own damn foot.

You turn sharply. "Hey, watch it—"

"I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

"I... I..."

"Are you okay?" he asks. His sharp, angular face and intense, piercing gaze make him instantly recognizable. He has that quietly powerful presence, standing a bit taller than you expected, with striking cheekbones and the slightest smirk playing at his lips, framed by the littlest bit of dirty blonde scruff.

"Here, come on." He gently tugs at your arm, his other hand occupied with a full pint. You let him pull you away from the warm, inebriated bodies and into a more secluded corner to the side of the main bar. "Much better, eh? Sorry, I didn't think you could hear me back there. Pub's proper packed tonight, innit? But... yeah, I'm sorry for bumping into you like that."

"It's... not a problem."

"Really?"

You nod, forcing a smile, your throat so constricted you can barely form a coherent sentence.

"Well... I, uh... how about I make it up to you anyway, huh? I could get you a drink? And your mates too if they're around?"

"Yeah, they're..." You raise a hand and wave at your table, but they're already keenly watching you, intrigued looks on their faces. You'll never hear the end of this later. Or ever.

"Is that them?" He waves politely, smiling in amusement. He knows that they recognise him, and how could he not, when they're practically gaping in his direction.

And finally— "Oh, uhm, I'm... Ewan, by the way." You shake his extended hand, introducing yourself in turn.

"Nice to meet you," you croak, "and... uhhh... I actually—"

There's a spark in his eye, and either it's the ambient lighting or his cheeks turn flushed. "Do you watch the show?"

"Yes. I'm a huge fan of yours..." you exhale in relief, a weight off your shoulders as if some secret is finally revealed, but then you hear your words again. "...and the show! I mean, I love the show—"

"Thank you," he grins, saving you from blabbering on too much. He leans forward and nudges your upper arm in a friendly gesture. "Thank you so much, really. I'm glad to hear it."

"So can I ask what's it like to film—"

"You here with just mates or a boyf—"

"Oh, you go ahead," you quickly say, but he blurts out, "Sorry, what did you say?" at the same time. Again.

Just two cluckering hens unable to speak to each other.

Feeling your composure returning, you hold a finger up, telling him to listen for a moment. He laughs softly at your faux stern expression, and the sound is so warm and genuine that your attempted seriousness melts away instantly. You could so get used to that.

"I just wanted to ask, and I hope you don't mind, what is it like to film the show? To be Aemond?"

"Oh, it's an absolute dream," he starts, turning his gaze away for a brief moment as one does when they're tapping into a memory. His blue eyes are cast in another direction, and you're grateful for the momentary reprieve. You catch yourself letting out a shaky breath, no longer arrested by those magnetic orbs of his. But only a few seconds pass before you already miss gazing into them.

You get a hold of your thoughts, and tune in to his words as he continues, "Aemond has become very dear to me... Well, he's definitely a part of me now! And the cast is just the best group of people to work with and I couldn't be more grateful so... Who's your, uhh, favourite character then?"

"Well," you shrug, "you could say he's standing right in front of me!"

"Oh really? And why Aemond?" He places his pint down on the bar and takes a step closer, leaning against the varnished mahogany ever so casually. You have half a mind to chug his pint in order to deal with the intensity of simply being this close to him.

What can you say? Because he's the most beautiful boy you've ever seen? Because he's your tortured little war criminal who is precious and can do no wrong? Because you want to be his ladywife and consumm...

You decide none of those are usable.

So you jump into a brief explanation of how Aemond is a compelling character, a mix of ambition and vulnerability, constantly at odds with others and even himself.

All the while, Ewan stares at you intently. All the while, you pray that your heart won't stop.

When you finish, the smile that is already present on his lips stretches even wider. "You're not just saying that because I'm here, are you? Like, you wouldn't say Criston is your favourite if it were Fabien you bumped into tonight?"

You give a sardonic nod, a slight smirk playing at your lips. "Sure, Ewan. I can easily reuse everything I've said and apply it to Criston Cole. Is Fabien with you? Maybe he can bump into me, and we can start the whole thing all over again."

"No way," he says smoothly, "you're mine."

Your prayers didn't work. Your heart stopped.

He clears his throat, ears reddening. "I mean, you're on team Aemond, come on now. You must prefer him over Cole."

"Well, I do."

"So there, you are mine," he cheekily repeats. Shy then brazen. Embarrassed then flirty.

Just who is this man? You've seen dozens of interviews, heard many a tale of fan encounters, but with every passing second, you feel as if you're discovering someone new altogether.

And it's the type of exciting that stirs you at your core.

"Sorry, am I keeping you from company? I don't want to monopolise— "

He hurriedly shuts that down. "No, no, it's okay. I'm just here with my brother and..." A group of lads erupts in cheers at a goal. "...girlfriend."

"Oh," you mumble. Your heart did start working again, only to clench uncomfortably in your chest. "Well, you should get back to your girlfriend. It was really nice to meet—"

"Wait, hold on," he pleads, reaching for your hand to stop you from turning away, "Not my girlfriend. My brother's. I'm kind of third wheeling them actually. But he's only in London until tomorrow so he wanted to meet me anyway."

"Oh. Okay—"

"I don't... I don't have a girlfriend."

"Uhm, okay," you offer a small smile, unable to deny that his statement gave you some ease.

For no particular reason.

It dawns on you that his larger, rougher hand is still caging yours. When you finally lift your eyes to meet his, a gentle smile plays at his lips, his gaze unwavering.

He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone meant only for you. "Listen, could I—"

Something flutters in your peripheral vision, distracting you, albeit you thought it impossible to have your attention diverted if you would ever meet Ewan.

But it was. You turn to see Paul waving an arm frantically at you, likely having waited far too long for his precious pint. Gracie, bless her, tries to get him to simmer down, reaching across the table to slap his arm. Her hand comes into contact with his skin, resulting in a smack loud enough to reach you across the pub.

"Ow!" Paul yelps.

"Leave her alone, mate!" Gracie snaps.

You can't help but laugh at their antics. When you turn to Ewan again, you lose track of what you were going to say, as he's watching you with an unexpected softness, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"So..."

"Hmm?" How Aemond of him.

"I think I should do my duty and fetch those guys a round," you sigh, jutting a thumb at your table.

"Oh, I'll get it," he quickly offers. "Don't worry about it, darling."

"Are you sure? I really can—"

"Wait here," he murmurs, his voice so close to your ear that a shiver ripples through you, goosebumps prickling along your skin in response.

You watch as he effortlessly navigates the line, his steady confidence drawing your attention as he orders three pints when it's his turn. You can't help but wonder how no one else has recognized him yet. Luck must be on his side, the footy match on the screens rendering everyone oblivious to the presence of a celebrity in their midst.

Their loss, your gain.

The aforementioned celebrity gestures to you with a tilt of his head, and you weave through the crowd idling by the bar to reach him.

"Here, hold this for me, darling," he says, handing you his own half-empty pint. He balances a full tray with both hands, heading to your table, where Paul has most likely turned into a dry husk.

"Thank you for buying a round!" Gracie exclaims, bouncing slightly in her seat. "You are Ewan from House of the Dragon, right?"

Ewan smiles, shirking slightly under the attention. "Yeah, and hey, I'm just doing my part," he replies with a friendly shrug.

As they gush about House of the Dragon, you try your hardest to disappear into your chair, feeling your cheeks heat. Paul, however—of course—has other plans.

"So, Ewan, you have to know that my friend here—" He gestures dramatically toward you. "—has the biggest crush on Aemond. I'm talking full-on obsession, really.”

"Oh my god, Paul!" you groan, burying your face in your hands, mortified. "Why would you say that?"

Ewan chuckles, and you peer at him to find him leaning back, a smug yet handsome look on his face. "An obsession, you say?" he teases, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

You shake your head, laughing despite your embarrassment. "Okay, okay, that's a severe exaggeration."

Ewan says with a grin, looking between you and your friends. "I'll have to be on my best behavior, then, won’t I?"

"Oh, absolutely," Gracie replies. "If you mess this up, you'll ruin Aemond for her forever!"

Ewan raises his hands in mock surrender, laughing. "No pressure, then! But, I hope you don't mind if I steal her away for a while," he says, turning his gaze back to you, his tone softening. "I'd really like to sit and talk to her more."

Alys Rivers has got nothing on you.

"What about your brother?" you ask.

"Oh, I see him all the time," he says, all nonchalant, standing from the booth and offering his hand for you to take.

"Are you sure? I don't—"

"Oh my god, just go with him, mate! You know you want to," Paul groans loudly, then he throws Ewan a wink, adding, "You two would look so cute together, you know?"

You're about to chastise him for yet another pert remark, when Ewan replies, "Oh, yeah, I know."

As the night wears on, he recounts behind-the-scenes stories from filming, your shared laughter echoing in the back area of the pub. You lean in, captivated by the way he animatedly gestures, and by the absurd fact that you're casually talking to Ewan Mitchell.

Your Tumblr moots are going to have an absolute field day with this if they found out.

"You wouldn’t believe how many takes it took me to get that scene right with Vhagar," he says, shaking his head.

You can't help but laugh, picturing the scene. He watches you with a look that sends your poor heart fluttering.

The pub has just announced last call when he places his hand atop yours on the table. "Listen, darling... can I ask for your number? I would really love to see you again sometime."

Does he even have to ask?

"Uh, yeah, of course!" When you hand him his phone back, his fingers brush against yours, purposefully lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Brilliant," he says, glancing up at you with that charming smile. "I'll text you right now so you know it's really me."

True to his word, it doesn't take long before your phone buzzes in your pocket. You're met with a notification that an unknown number sent you a message—

Hey, beautiful. How about you let me take you out on a proper date tomorrow night? – your obsession, apparently

Your head shoots up, and you lock eyes with Ewan, who is already laughing to himself.

"Ewan! Are you kidding me?" you exclaim, but surrendering to the humour of the whole thing, laughing with him.

"Please say yes, darling?" he tilts his head, pouting adorably, drawing nearer to you.

Yes. Of course. Most certainly.

"Well... since I'm obsessed with you, I guess you already know my answer."

[cassie48]

𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻

King Hal x fem reader.

A/N: In which the king isn’t happy with how his wife, the queen is treated.

(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(

You were chosen to be queen. Hal himself wanted you. But, in some ways, a lot of ways actually, you felt you weren’t meant to be a queen. You were very quiet and innocent, to scared to correct someone or stand up for yourself.

Now, Hal was always there to stand up for you, he was really very protective of you. He threatened men that mocked you, and declared to the people of England that you were his wife, and that they must accept that.

On this particular day, you were sat on a bench in a secluded area of the gardens, hiding from everyone, crying. Earlier that day there had been an incident, leading you to hide away from your husband and those he would send to look for you.

You had been on a stroll, earlier that day. You often went on strolls when Hal would have meetings. On this particular morning, you bumped into a man that served Paul. He was a sort of advisor and helped him stay in order. George, was his name.

You had never really warmed to him, as he constantly made you uncomfortable. He would send you odd looks, when Hal wasn’t looking, sometimes in places that no man but Hal should be looking.

“Sorry George” You said looking at the ground.

“Oh it’s fine your majesty, it’s my fault” he said with a disgusting smirk.

“Do you know where Hal is?” Your sweet voice said, wanting to see your husband.

“He’s busy right now” he told you.

You nodded turning to continue on your walk, when his voice continued.

“I could accompany you, you know” George said not even bothering to address you respectfully.

“Oh, it’s fine, really” you said going to turn.

“Are you sure, I’d like to” he said, clearly wanting you to agree to go with him.

“No really, it would be…improper” you said, with a polite smile, trying to leave.

But, to your shock, he grabbed your upper arm roughly, tracing his finger over your body.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re quite the improper girl” he whispered, his fingers sickly travelling all over you.

“W-What?” You said your voice trembling, pulling back slightly, but it didn’t work.

“The men talk, say that you’ve been quite 𝘐𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳” he said with a menacing smile.

This was when you lost it, you stared to ball your eyes out, ripping yourself away from his hold, running off to hide in the gardens, crying as you did, that’s where you found the little bench.

(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.

At that same time, Paul was leaving his meeting room, going to see you in your chambers. This was a daily routine for him, he truly loved him.

But a scowl made its way on his face when you weren’t there. “Where is the queen?” He yelled at the servants in the room.

“We, aren’t sure, your majesty” a man answered staring at the ground in fear.

“Is it not your job to take care of her when I’m not?” He yelled rage dripping from his voice as he grew more worried.

“Find her” he demanded with a cold voice.

They all scrambled, running in all directions to search for you, fearing for their lives if they didn’t.

Around an hour later, there was still no sign of you, Hal was getting very impatient. So he went to look for you himself.

He knew your favourite places in the castle and he knew one of which was the gardens, so he made his way there. He had searched almost all the gardens, until her heard a soft crying.

Hal eventually found you on that bench, as soon as he saw you, he was 𝘔𝘢𝘥.

“My love? What’s wrong?” He asked as he sat on the bench too, placing you on his lap.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, continuing to cry loudly into his chest.

“Are you hurt?” He asked with a concerned look on his face.

You nodded your head no and hugged onto him tighter, as the tears fell down your face.

“Love, you have to tell me what’s wrong, so I can fix it” he said kissing your head.

“It was…g-george” you cried.

“What about 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦?” He said, his face suddenly becoming cold.

“He, he said I was an improper lady! And h-he was touching me Hal” you hiccuped.

Hals phase froze in anger and shock. George was in the room when Hal first threatened everyone about going near his wife. He made it very clear she was to be shown respect. George was one of his most trusted men. 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.

“I’ll deal with him, this won’t happen again” he said kissing your hand.

You eventually lifted your head from his chest, as he wiped your tears from your cheeks.

“C-Can we go for a walk?” Your gentle voice asked.

“Of course, anything for you” Hal answered lifting her off his lap onto the ground, and taking her hand in his.

They walked the grounds talking about everything and anything, happy to be in each others company.

You hugged his side, yawning, suddenly becoming very tired.

“Do you want to retire” he said, his arm around your waist.

You only nodded in response, and you both headed back to your chambers.

He ordered the maids to run a bath for you, before kissing you softly, telling you he had something to take care of, and he’d be back later.

Around one hour later, you lay in the bath, the bubbles covering your naked body, and your eyes closed, enjoying the heat.

The door swung open to reveal your husband once more, but this time with blood on his hands.

“Hal?” Your little voice squeaked.

“It’s not my blood, I only took care of something that needed to be handled” he said sitting beside you, and giving you a kiss on the forehead.

You nodded, your eyes heavy as you leaned into his touch. You yearned to be in bed.

Hal caught onto this, and ordered the maids to help you prepare for bed, and get into your nightdress.

“What did you do to him, George I mean” you whispered, playing with your fingers.

Hal smiled before saying “I taught him a lesson” and giving you a long kiss, and bidding you goodnight.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭,

𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯.

A/n

I hope you all enjoyed, I’ve been wanting to write for Hal for some time now so finally I did!!

[ivystoryweaver]

Your Father's Rival!Leto Atreides x F!virgin!reader

NSFW MDNI. Reader is of age, obviously! AU in the sense that there is no mention of Lady Jessica or Paul Atreides. Also, Leto may be OOC here. Not beta'd. More content/warnings below the cut. 1.3k words

content: seduction, nipple play, allusions to oral - f. rec., allusions to fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, duplicitous behavior, but everything is consensual

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Your father's rival!Leto Atreides

...who invites your family to Caladan for "peace talks", but secretly hatches his plan

Rival!Leto, who welcomes your begrudging father, throwing a magnificent ball in your family's honor

whose gaze lingers on you - your father's only heir, nearly twenty years younger than Leto himself...

and conveniently unmarried.

Rival!Leto, who requests the honor of a first dance with you. His dark eyes devour yours as his gloved hands pull you a little closer than is formal.

whose stern countenance dissolves when eyes crinkle as he grants you a brilliant smile

whose smooth, tenor voice tickles your ear as he compliments your dancing, subtly hinting at how your body moves in perfect time with his

whose gaze lingers on your lips before dipping down to the low scooped neck of your gown

Rival!Leto, who lets everyone know to treat your family like royalty - to be sure you don't miss a single dance, so that you will eventually need to step outside for some air...

who conveniently stumbles upon you under the stars, in the lush gardens of Castle Caladan and manages to remark how you are more beautiful, if possible, bathed in moonglow

Rival!Leto, who notices your breath hitch when he nears, who asks permission to escort you on a tour of the garden, granting him the opportunity to take you by the arm.

who finds you delightful, really: intelligent - well-read and opinionated. Sparkling conversation distracts him, for a brief while, from his primary goal.

Rival!Leto, who plans to seduce you, and breed you.

You're young and beautiful, and a virgin - the cherished prize of his one and only rival.

Rival!Leto, who will snatch his enemy’s most precious possession from his grasp - to steal your youth, your body and above all, your love.

Not to harm you. In fact, he's already growing quite fond of you.

Rival!Leto, who bids you goodnight, as an upstanding Duke would do, who keeps your honor in tact, while his plan begins to unfold.

who notices you stealing glances across the breakfast table, smiling to himself at the impression he's clearly already made.

who finds you again in the gardens later that evening - who walks and talks with you, luring you into a comforting trust...but doesn't realize he is being lured as well.

Rival!Leto, who carries on for days, so innocently, that he's almost forgotten the duplicity of his original plan...

who finds himself meaning it when he folds you into his arms and kisses you breathless underneath the stars, his body responding with fervor as you wind your fingers through his thick curls and tug him closer to you.

who lures you the next night, and the next, until your walks in the garden turn into the collision of your mouths, the tangle of tongues, the sharing of breath, kissing and panting and touching, bolder each evening.

unlacing the front of your dress while kissing you deeply before trailing his lips down your throat, fingers brushing your collarbone.

stepping over the line of propriety, cupping your breast in his palm, stoking a fire of lust inside you. His lips caress the curve of your mound as hot breath fans across your stiff peaks.

Your father's rival, who takes your nipple into his mouth and gently sucks, pulling a breathy moan from your throat...

who greedily sucks and fondles away your innocence, his cock stirring and twitching at the sounds of your evident desire.

Rival!Leto, who has you half naked in the garden - a scandal just waiting to be uncovered - but the sound of his name on your lips won't allow him to slow, or stop.

who tells you that he's never seen anything more beautiful in all the known universe, and asks you to come to his bed tonight.

Your father's rival, who assures you his staff is discreet, and your secret is safe...

who thrills as you enter his bedchamber in the dark of night, very obviously bathed and perfumed to please him

who unleashes his fervent desire now that you are alone, unlacing your gown - his strong fingers laying claim to your soft flesh as his hungry mouth seeks out yours.

Your father's rival, who draws previously unknown desires from the core of you, making you bloom with raw want and drip with lust, soaking his beard

whose lips bring you to heaven itself as he sucks and fingers away your innocence, coaxing you into womanhood with delicious gasps and moans and sweet little begs that make him hard and ready to take your body completely

who slips inside the wet core of you, hissing as you snugly fit and grip his cock, whimpers and sighs of how full you feel tickling his ear.

His name on your lips as he starts to move - as the sting of intrusion eases into a fullness and completeness unlike anything you could have imagined.

Your father's treasure, naked and panting and scandalously writhing beneath his bitter rival, filled with his thick length, giving your maidenhood away to the enemy - to a man who has promised you nothing

Rival!Leto who presses his strong hand to your abdomen, murmuring your name. "Let me fill you up, dove. You can have a piece of me I've given no woman before this night."

"Yes, Leto," you repeat over and over. "Fill me...I'm yours."

Your father's rival, who intends to fill your belly with his heir, and now realizes, as your thighs fall apart - with each deep thrust - how quickly and how hard he comes inside you. How he fell apart so easily in the soft heat of your body. How he relishes this task he’s taken upon himself, almost feeling as if he is corrupting you.

who holds you close to his chest, like he owns you, your bodies still joined, kissing you possessively

Who can't seem to usher you back to your rooms, even to keep your scandalous secret. Who gently wipes you clean and folds you against his naked, sated body, assuring you to give into your exhaustion and rest - feeling a secret thrill that he’s winning your trust, as you sleep soundly

Who wakes to your beautiful face in dawn's light, stares into your eyes and kisses you deeply, certain you are falling in love with him

He swallows hard, realizing…something is happening to him.

Rival!Leto who finds his thoughts on you constantly throughout the day, who can't keep his eyes from devouring you when you enter a room.

Who desperately seeks a moment alone with you, to beckon you back to his bed. "I must have you again," he murmurs against your cheek in a darkened alcove.

He gathers you into his arms when you come to him that night and takes you to bed.

And the next night, and the next. Each night, telling you how he wants to fill you - his body climaxing at your eager acceptance

Who fucks you slow and deep one night, hand on your belly, hard and ready to burst as you beg him to fill you up - who finally utters his plan aloud. "I want you to carry my heir. I want my child to grow inside you."

You assume this is practically a marriage proposal. "Oh Leto..." you coo, coming apart in his arms. "I would love to be your wife."

He should tell you the truth. That he planned to breed you. To trap you on Caladan, to win your heart, and take your father's only treasure away from him.

But he sees an out - he can simply propose and all will be well

Rival!Leto, who didn't plan to actually fall in love with you

Who realizes, he's trapped himself. He loves you too much to lie anymore. So he confesses.

You don't seem upset with him, or even shocked. You simply kiss him deeply, coaxing him to hardness before joining your body with his once more.

Your father's rival, who has fallen in love with you, who wants to marry you, who will share children with you.

Your mission is accomplished. Your father will be proud.

And it cost you nothing. Because you accidentally fell in love with him too

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Miscellaneous Characters Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[eratosmusings]

Stolen Destiny (II)

Feyd Rautha x fem!reader

summary: the na-baron takes an interest in you

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence

word count: 1.8k

previous chapter / dividers / masterlist

“...humiliating…disgusting…barbaric…”

You flinch as your father’s anger roars. Nothing you do will ever please him. 

“What do you think will be said of me? Of how I raised you?”

“You didn’t,” you want to say. Instead you apologize. Harkonnens are animals you rationalize. They were testing to see if you were prey and you had to show them you aren’t. 

“And in doing so you’ve tainted yourself.”

It’s like a slap. The cut on your hand still stings from the solution they’d scrubbed on it. It had only been a handshake. It was a show of strength. He’d understand that sentiment if there was a cock swinging between your legs. He doesn’t stay to say more, leaving you to nurse the wounds alone. 

A feast is held that night. A welcome to your guests. You're squeezed into a new outfit, one you've been told your father deems more appropriate than the one you’d had chosen. It’s the first time he’s ever taken the initiative to dress you. It gives you no pleasure to recognize the dress as one of his courtesan’s.

“Your dress is lovely,” says the Princess Irulan when she sees you again after the food had been taken away and the party mills about in the Hall. She takes your arm and strolls with you between the bodies. The familiarity between you is striking. She speaks of her sisters, the planet she calls home. You tell her of your studies. It seems you share a fondness for the same authors.

It’s odd to feel her warm smile. There were few women in your life. Maids mostly, though they rotated frequently. A few of the castle’s regular entertainers when allowed. You don’t count the courtesans who keep your father company. 

“Princess,” Paul greets her with a bow, intruding on your talks of taking an excursion around the palace grounds. Those green eyes turn on you and sweep across your form. “My lady, you look stunning.” He takes your hand again and bends to kiss it while you try not to flinch. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” Irulan says with more kindness than deserved. “We were just making plans to visit the lake the day after tomorrow.”

The way his face lights up has your excitement plummeting. He’s eager to join. You stay as long as you can stand his conversation. It’s not long. You excuse yourself, claiming the need to check on the rest of your guests, and extract your arm from the princess’. You accept a kiss on your cheek from her before disappearing into the crowd.

You have no desire to mingle more. Whatever consequences you’ll face when your father finds out about you slipping out don’t worry you. His anger would have found something to punish you for anyways. Cool air greets you as you step into the gardens. It’s not your favorite place, but the training yard is too far in this getup. 

“It’s rude to leave your own party.”

Hair raises on your arms, but you don’t turn to the voice. “You have my apologies for my rudeness then.”

“And it is unwise to keep your back to an armed man.”

“What fun is life without a little risk, na-Baron?”

He chuckles at that. There’s quiet footsteps as he paces behind you like a panther appraising a potential meal. You keep your eyes forward. “You and the princess seem to have bonded quite quickly.” He’s been watching you.

“She is easy to be fond of.” 

Shadow swallows you as he steps behind you. Breath ruffling your hair he asks, “But Paul Atriedes is not?” He’s been watching you closely. A fingernail scraps down your bare arm. “Do you resent him for what he’s stolen from you?”

You spin.

The black void that is his smile is wide on his face. Humiliation sears your throat. How many people know of your father’s deepest shame? Feyd-Rautha seems to revel in that silent moment. Your pain brings him pleasure. 

“I must return to my guests,” you say and step around him. His hand shoots out to grab your arm, but you're prepared. You evade, pull your arms taut to your chest, and dart down the hall as his laugh taunts. The respect you built with the Harkonnens was nothing more than delusion. It doesn’t matter what teeth you bare or claws you present, any show of weakness will be exploited. 

You round a corner and nearly crash into a guard. The same one from earlier. He questions if you’re hurt, eyes darting the corridor behind you. He seems to find nothing. You agree with his warnings now. It’s best you don’t wander alone.

You wake unrested. Images of blackened teeth, slicing blades, and hoarse laughter haunt you into the morning hours. You’ve made the decision to retain a personal guard. The choice in who is easy. 

You spend the day reviewing everything for your coming of age in a couple of days. Your father is supposed to do it, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s tedious but the hours of distraction are welcome. And it gives you reason to decline Paul’s lunch invitation. It’s only when the sun is past its peak that you’re forced to hand over the remaining duties to your grumbling father. The swordmaster demands your time to refine a performance you still can’t rationalize. Who is it for?

Your father? A man who despises any display of femininity from you? The princess? In some attempt at an apology for a marriage that can now no longer be? Or House Atreides? The ones who’d stolen your destiny before you’d been a seed in your mother’s womb? This artistry certainly isn’t for the brutes of House Harkonnen.

The music halts half way through the fourth run. “Your timing is wrong,” the swordmaster says and has you begin again. 

By time he’s satisfied, your legs burn and your patience is worn thin. You can only glower at your guard, Fandral you’ve learned is his name, as he compliments the dance. “I like the story it tells,” he defends. 

“There’s not a story.” You massage the shoulder of your sword arm. The ache isn’t unwelcome, but the cause is frustrating. The time would have been better spent actually training.

“All art tells a story,” he says.

You scoff. “And what’s the story? I go crazy and start fighting air?”

“You can see it that way, but I think there’s more nuance.” He eyes the girls as you hand off the swords as if expecting one of them to run you through. “It’s the story of a girl turning into a woman.”

A laugh erupts from you. It’s a fitting story for your coming of age, at least. He tries to explain his reasoning. The symbolism of the first sword as the first menstruation, the second as the final years of youthful rebellion, and the end is the acceptance of the new role as a woman. You don’t quite believe it.

There’s no dreams of black teeth or the bite of blades that night. This nightmare is of your mother. Her face unmoving. Silent as you scream. She never moves, but she’s forever out of reach. Then she’s gone and you’re left gasping in the dark alone. 

“This is beautiful,” Paul says in awe as he stares out over the lake.

It’s difficult to not let every word out of his mouth annoy you. You remind yourself he didn’t steal anything from you. His mother did. “You should see it at sunrise.”

He tears his gaze off the water. “I’d like that.” He says it so earnestly you feel you’re missing something. 

“As would I,” Irulan says. You turn your head to look at her on your otherside, but her eyes remain focused on the scenery. 

“And I,” the Harkonnen rasps in your ear.

His addition to the excursion had been as unexpected as it was unwanted. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy a day by the water. Even now, he’s at odds with the world around him. His stark white skin and ghastly black clothes unsettling out amongst the colors. You doubt he truly wants to see the beauty of first light. 

“Another day,” you say. It’s not a promise. 

You only plan to stay for an hour at most, enjoying a light lunch under your favorite tree, but Paul asks about going out on the lake. There’s only a small canoe available on such short notice, but it’s enough. Irulan has no desire to get on the water and says she’d prefer to ask Feyd-Rautha about the Spice harvesting on Arrakis. You aren’t keen on leaving her with him, but she insists and there’s guards to keep her safe.

Paul tries to play the gentleman and offers you his hand once he’s in the canoe, but he’s unsteady and nearly tips it over. You return his apologetic smile as you hear hoarse, barking laughter from the tree.

He’s inquisitive as you row out of sight. About your studies, arts you partake in, foods you enjoy. He even asks about your favorite color. You try to respond in kind, but he doesn’t leave you much time to catch your breath between answers let alone ask your own questions. It’s frustrating but you smile and bear it.

“What’s that?” 

Blinking at him confused, you follow his gaze. A few meters from the shoreline was a small marble pavilion. It’s overgrown with vines, graying from the accumulation of dirt and grime. You’ve forgotten it was here. It feels like there’s cotton in your mouth when you speak. “Just an old pavilion.”

You let him take the canoe further for a while longer, before turning it back. You don’t look at the pavilion when you pass it again. It’s a relief to come back into view of the others. The canoe floats to stop beside the small dock. Fandral is there waiting, his arm extended. But Paul stands too quickly and the canoe sways. Your hand brushes Fandral’s outstretched one for a moment, but you tilt the other way and spill into the frigid water. 

It's not deep. Once you have bearings you’re able to stand and your head breaks through the surface. You take in a deep, shuddering breath. There’s a commotion beside you. Paul’s head pops out and sprays more water in your face.

Someone’s speaking, but there's a river flowing in your ears that makes it impossible to understand. It's a difficult walk to the dock. Your dress is heavy and the water slows your steps. An arm reaches out to you and you take it to help pull yourself up. 

Feyd-Rautha stares down at you. Not with a smile. There’s no amusement on his face. There's something new in his eyes you don’t recognize. It takes Fandral’s interference to release you from the intensity of his gaze. The guard shrugs off the jacket of his uniform and drapes it around your shoulders.

Irulan frets despite your multiple assurances you’re fine. It wasn’t deep. There was no danger. You’re wet, that’s all. Paul apologizes over and over and over again. “It was an accident,” you say in hopes of appeasing his guilt. You want Paul Atreides to leave you alone.

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[mydear-corinthian]

my rockstar boyfriend

synopsis: neil explaining the meaning of his favorite song in an interesting way

pairing: neil lewis x reader

warnings: SMUT +18, rough sex, fingering, squirting, creampie, breeding kink, p in v

notes: RUSHED and writers block.. based from my 2nd fav rock band and their song, divider by cafekitsune

main masterlist | cillian masterlist

The sound of Neil's guitar and his vocals made you shocked as you arrived at your house after coming back from a long day at work. The garden was filled with empty chairs, a big sound system and a small stage.

You laugh at the sight of the decorations, and you know how your boyfriend puts  effort into every surprise that he does to you. Neil's black tank top and his black sunglasses definitely made him hotter as he played the riff from the song Rein Raus by Rammstein. Neil sang with all of his heart, excelling the song's solo as he smashed his notes on his Les Paul guitar. As the song ended, you clapped loudly, cheering for him.

Neil removed his guitar, gently placing it on the guitar stand before dropping off the stage to run towards your direction. His hands found their way to your waist and lifted you up, hugging you tightly.

"You like the surprise?" Neil asked, giving you a kiss on your lips.

"Fucking hot," you answered, chuckling.

You returned the kiss, you gripped his hair as you began to savoured the kiss more.

You know that your boyfriend is talented, and he has a lot of skills, since he watch a lot of movies but him playing the guitar? It was fucking hot. Just him playing a riff makes you feel warm and wild.

"What song did you play?" you asked, breaking the kiss.

"Oh it's a song by this German rock band: Rammstein. Rein Raus. Great song."

"Rein Raus?" you tilted your head in confusion. "What does that mean?"

He laughed at your question. The song for him is definitely a banger, but what's more interesting is the song behind it. Neil began to guide you inside your house, opening the front door and then locking it before his lips met yours again.

You dropped your bag at the sudden action, but you kissed him back again. Both of your lips were too desperate for each other's taste as his tongue began to meet yours. He carried you suddenly and tossed you on the sofa.

"You really want to know?" he asked.

You nodded in response, getting wetter and wetter after the steamy making-out session.

Sex

"Maybe it'll be better if.. I demonstrate it, hm?" he teased.

Neil's kisses trailed down from your lips to your neck, sucking it and marking you as his. You moaned at the pleasure once he sucked that sweet spot of yours.

"Fuck— yes, Neil,"

His lips found its way to your thighs, kissing passionately until he reached near your clothed panties. "So wet now, hm?"

"Please, Neil.. I need you," you let out a small whimper when you felt his hot breath on your panties.

"Let me give you a show, honey."

Neil undressed your soaking wet white lace panties, tossing them somewhere on the floor. The cold air touching your wet cunt made you gasp.

"What a pretty sight," his index finger toying around your clit. "So wet for me."

While his finger toyed with your clit, the rest of two of his fingers entered your pussy, fingering you deep and quickly. The sound of your wet juices echoed all over the living room. Every single movement of his finger inside touches your sensitive spot, making you spread your legs wider and moan.

"Ah! Yes, yes, yes!"

"Cumming, princess? Yeah, go on, cum for me."

Feeling a wave of pleasure and a knot in your stomach, you moaned loudly. Your legs started to shake violently, your mouth hanged open, feeling your orgasm come sooner.

"I'm so close, Neil— I- ahh!"

Your orgasm finally came as you let out a last loud moan. Neil's fingers stopped pumping inside you as he saw how his fingers were now coated with your white juices. He gently took out his fingers then licking it clean, tasting you.

"Taste so fucking sweet."

"Now—" his hands started to unbuckle his belt. "Here is the meaning."

Neil removed his pants after he unbuckled his black punk-like belt. His boner was seen clearly on his Calvin Klein boxers. On the other hand, you unbuttoned your long white work shirt and then your bra, tossing it on the floor too. Neil, now removed his boxers, his hard cock sprung free.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" he genuinely showed concern as he asked you.

"Mhm, okay," you nodded. No matter what the situation is, Neil never fails to be gentle to you and make you feel comfortable, and you're happy with that. His gentleness makes you love him more.

His palms stroked his member a few times before he slowly entered you. The feeling of his fat cock made you gasp out loud.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he murmured. "I can do this forever."

"Oh my god! F-feels so good—" you moaned, your hand gripping the headboard of the sofa.

Slowly, he started to thrust. Your head rolled upwards as he hit that sensitive spot inside your fucked pussy. The long sofa chair creaked at each thrust Neil made. As his pace was going faster and faster, your moans became louder. Neil lifted your legs and placed them on top of his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate deeper into you, in and out.

Suddenly, Neil pulled out, making you confused. He grabbed your body and immediately placed you on top of his lap.

"Ride me." he said.

You nodded feverishly. Both of your hands gripped his shoulders as you aligned your needy cunt to his massive dick. You slowly pushed down, but Neil pushed your hips down harshly and with no warning, allowing you to let out a loud moan. You started to ride him slowly but sensual, making sure that his dick hit all the sensitive spots there and yes, he did. His hands gripped on your hips, supporting each thrust he made.

"Yes, baby, that's it—fuck! Good girl. Keep riding me like that."

The way he praises you and calls you nicknames made a tint of pink appear in your cheeks. His head rolled backwards, his eyes shutting closed while he savored the pleasure.

"Deeper, please.. Neil, deeper," you cried out.

"Mhm just like song, yeah? Good girl, you're learning. Fuck, you're so pretty when you ride me— Jesus lady!"

Neil slammed your hips harder and deeper into him. Both of your breaths quickened as he pounded while you rode him. You let out a series of pornography moans at the feeling of bliss which made you feel nothing but euphoria and makes bright stars.

"Gonna c-cum again, Neil.." you panted, continuing to ride him as you try to reach your peak.

"Me too, baby. Fuck— I'm gonna cum inside you, yeah? Take it, baby, take it."

After a few more thrusts, you finally came and squirted all over his dick with a mixture of your own cum. The cushion in your sofa was soaked, leaving wet marks all over it.

"Ah! Neil—" you moaned.

Neil plunged your hips deep, his orgasm reached, spurting his warm cum all over your walls. His cock throbbed as he felt you clench before pulling it out. A mixture of yours and his cum dripped into your fucked hole.

"That was amazing," Neil said, trying to catch his breath as his chest heaved up and down heavily.

Your body rested on his chest, tired from the heated sex. Your cushion was now stained with your juices and Neil's cum.

"You should probably introduce me to more sex songs," you said.

"I really should," he laughed before giving you a short but passionate kiss.

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; Hi babies! I hope you're doing amazing! I love writing this story i feel alive after months of depression lol. Don't worry, there will be SMUT in the future chapters. Sorry for any typos English isn't my first language.

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Text me if i forgot to tag you little doves 🕊️ ♥️)

Warnings; None.. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 2.291K

Chapter 4

Chapter Three – ''Caught in the Web''

The throne room was spinning under her feet, she felt the sudden rush of hot air on her body. No one dared to speak, one could hear the birds outside singing in harmony. Y/N’s alerted eyes found Pyramus, he seemed in shock and quietly left the throne room. Y/N looked at her parents pleadingly, Leto’s brown eyes were fixed on the Emperor, Jessica had a victorious smile and it dawned on her.

This was planned.

 ‘’Rise young warrior.’’ Shaddam’s voice was heard. ‘’Do parents of Lady Y/N object to this offer?’’

Entire room held its breath. ‘’No, Emperor.’’  Leto answered on the behalf of his house, it broke Y/N’s heart into million pieces. ‘’Not here.’’ she whispered to herself, she couldn’t burst into tears in front of important people and show weakness.

‘’So it is done. Paul Atreides shall take my daughter as wife and you, young warrior Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen shall take Lady Y/N Atreides as your wife.’’ And the crowd went into hypnotic frenzy.

The following hours went blurry, Y/N was taken to chamber to another…

At last, she was in her family’s quarters, she waited for servants to leave them alone. The door closed and a thick silence fell like a dark cloud, hovering over the House Atreides.

‘’How could you?!’’ she yelled, stood up to her feet, her skirts swirling, her face showed nothing but anger, she was a lioness. ‘’How could I refuse the Emperor?!’’ Leto yelled back, he felt powerless like the exact time when Emperor Shaddam demanded his beloved baby daughter to accompany Princes Irulan. Again, someone else was going to take her from him. ‘’Wake up father! This isn’t the Emperor. This is Bene Gesserit’s doing. It has been all along.’’

Leto turned to face Jessica who averted her gaze, she looked guilty of a crime she didn’t commit yet she had her fingers in it. ‘’You?!’’ He didn’t want to believe but she was right. Jessica’s blue eyes couldn’t face her beloved. Paul knew that his parents needed to talk in private so he gently held his older sister’s arm. ‘’let’s go to the gardens.’’ He knew that would calm her.

Y/N stormed odd to the halls of the palace and with Paul they walked to the lush gardens. Gardens of House Corriono were always well maintained and aesthetically pleasing with colors and scent. She had to take deep breaths and pray in silence;

 ‘’I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.’’

Paul was standing there hands in his pockets, counting his blessings.

‘’Y/N’’ he called softly, ‘’What?!’’ she was about to take her anger out on him, ‘’Do not give me that look Paul. You and Irulan and that.. that Bal headed beast are the ones who profit from this arrangement but me!’’ she tried to keep her voice low, servants and spies could be anywhere. ‘’You can manipulate him, Y/N, remember our training.’’ Paul was making sense but Y/N was too furious to hear .

‘’Y/N…’’ a soft voice called out, they turned to face the owner, ‘’Pyramus..’’ she breathed out, a brief silence fell, his dark brown eyes found hers, ‘’I shall take my leave.’’ Paul announced and left them be.

Two lovers embraced, she started to cry in agony, ‘’What are we going to do now?!’’ her voice desperate, rebelling against her fate. ‘’I have an idea.’’ He said holding her face, ‘’Tonight, after Irulan and Paul’s wedding we run away together.’’ She was shocked to hear him being bold. ‘’We can hijack an ornithopter and hide till we find a ship to fly to my home, you can use the Voice on people.’’ It would be the most outrageous scandal that the Imperium had ever seen, but it was now or never.

All day she got ready for Irulan’s wedding, she wore a long black dress an black lace gloves that were see-through, her long hair let loose. A big obsidian stoned necklace on her delicate throat, the stone shined every time lights hit from the glowglobes. After tonight she was suppose to be shipped to the hellhole called Giedi Prime. House Harkonnen.

The feast was bountiful, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, no one cared about Y/N and her situation. Among the crowd she found her family’s place and started to move past dancing couples to go to them but a firm trap caught her delicate wrist, it was Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

‘’Where to, little dove?’’ he was in his regular black clothing, a silver ring on his little finger, a cunning look on his ocean eyes, ‘’To my family.’’ Y/N replied coldly, ‘’I am your family now.’’ He was so direct it caught her off guard. He didn’t wait for an answer and guided her to the dance floor, his tone was stern, was he hurt that Y/N didn’t go to him first? She deduced with her Bene Gesserit powers. ‘’I highly doubt that.’’ She clapped back in annoyance. He was trying really hard not to lose his temper. He couldn’t show his true self among other houses, he couldn’t humiliate his family so he simply had to wait and be patient and when the time comes… he could insert his ways on her. As if he wasn’t doing it now….

‘’You have a silver tongue. I like that but-‘’ he made her twirl, ‘’be careful.’’ Y/N looked up to meet his orbits, under the yellow lights, among dancing couples one could assume that Feyd and Y/N were a loving couple. It was so easy to lose oneself in his aura that she had to look away. Their bodies pressed to each other, she could smell his cologne, manly and just.. there

‘’You know what, I’m going to be nice to you tonight.’’ She said which caused him to rise his nonexistent eyebrow in questioning. ‘’How come?’’

‘’You might not find me again, so, it’s on the house.’’ And the music ended and she immediately let herself part from him and go to her family.

Rest of the night she avoided most of the people and observed. Paul and Irulan were shipped to Caladan and tomorrow morning all of the lord and ladies were to go back to their home planets. Perfect timing.

Y/N wore her black leather pants and top, she couldn’t afford running in her beautiful gowns if any trouble arrived. She prepared a small bag of essentials, and had been waiting for Pyramus to whistle from outside, her windows were all wide open.

When she heard him she activated her shoes which were made to float in the air and she softly landed on the fresh cut grass, they kissed passionately. She could feel her heart in her throat, this was the first time she was actively rebelling against her family and the rules. Pyramus had his outfit from the night’s entertainment. ‘’Why didn’t you change?’’

‘’Didn’t have time. Follow me.’’ If she was more observant she could have seen the cut on his eyebrow and small bruises on his face clearly.

Ornithopters were on the airfield, since it was really late most of the guards were sleeping on their duty.

Pyramus held her hand, his palm sweaty, ‘’Let’s go.’’ He made her move fast ‘’Wait-‘’ she whispered,

‘’Let’s not wake them up-‘’ he seemed like he didn’t care, they got to an ornithopter. He opened its door, it was for two people. Before she climbed inside she turned to face him for a second, he seemed terrified, ‘’Wait-‘’ her hands went to his face, ‘’What happened to your face?’’ Y/N asked in horror and saw his expression change into guilt.

‘’Pyramus?’’ she whispered, ‘’I’m sorry Y/N..’’

And all of the lights on the field were turned on like lightning on a rainy day, alarms were going off, soldiers wide awake… were they awake the whole time? They were surrounded by Harkonnen soldiers, a sound of applause echoed on the open field, soldiers moved to make way for him.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen approached, he stopped clapping when he saw them, he had his black and dark grey uniform. Y/N could see he was geared up.. just in case.

‘’Did you really think that you could escape me?’’ Feyd asked sarcastically, his voice amused, he looked like a theater actor who finished his bit and proud of himself. ‘’I’m sorry..’’ Pyramus whispered again and let her go, he, without a beat climbed into the ornithopter and flew away.

Y/N could feel the tears of betrayal coming in, Feyd-Rautha with a sudden move grabbed her wrist, she felt like an animal who just stepped into a metal trap, his fingers bruising her wrist, he started to drag her back to the palace. ‘’Let go of me!’’ because of the panic she couldn’t use the Voice on him.

‘’Enough games, little dove. You will be locked to your chambers until we leave for Giedi Prime.’’

She kept trying to fight and get away from him and he stopped in his tracks, an annoyed huff coming out of him he turned to her and with a swift move he lifted her to his shoulder like a cave man.

‘’I order you to let go of me!’’ this time she used the Voice but he wasn’t affected. Why? Y/N noticed the earplugs he was wearing. ‘’I out rank you Lady Y/N.’’ he chuckled and she could feel the panic rise in her. He slapped her butt and she whined in pain, his hand was heavy and big.

Feyd-Rautha marched the empty corridors and found her bedroom, he kicked open the door and threw her onto her bed which was covered with fluffy pillows and he was startled to see so many colors at once. She froze, supporting her body with her hand, he stood there like a statue, immobile. ‘’Thankfully other houses don’t know this foolish attempt of yours.’’ He said coldly ad slowly leaned to be on the same level as her. ‘’Try to humiliate me again and see what happens, little dove.’’ She felt the threat of his words settle into the room, she felt as if his presence made her vision go dark and the only thing she could see was him.. Feyd-Rautha was so many things but a liar.

He left and she heard the lock on the door.

Y/N was in shock, she had to take deep breaths to calm her racing mind. Soon a maid came to lock the windows and leave her there, without a word.. even her own maids turned their backs on her, Harkonnens were feared. She belonged to them now, her body and soul was his.

She moved to the window to see the full moon, on her knees she prayed till morning came with its fog. Jessica entered with the maids and servants, Y/N was on her knees praying like a mad Bene Gesserit witch. ‘’Prepare the bath for my daughter.’’ Jessica ordered and went to sit next to her.

‘’You will understand me one day.’’ She knew what happened last night and was surprised, Jessica had never thought Y/N would rebel like this.. ‘’When I was in your whomb…’’ she began, ‘’why didn’t you change my sex?’’

Jessica had to tell the truth, ‘’I was ordered to have a daughter as first born. They didn’t tell me why. If I had known.. things would be different.’’ Her blue eyes searching hers, hoping to see something but Y/N was trained well, not a single emotion on her face, a blank slate. ‘’If you don’t manipulate him he’ll be the end of you, you’re my daughter, you have to survive.’’ Jessica kissed her daughters soft hair and stood up to give more orders to carry Y/N’s belongings to the Harkonnen ship.

Y/N watched other houses leave from her window, she tried to read while her servants worked in silence. The sun was setting when she wore her ceremonial gown. It was emerald green, the color fo her house and a hawk was on her chest, symbol of House Atreides. Her long hair was braided elegantly. Her father came to take her outside before the Emperor, it was the custom. Leto tried to talk to her but she didn’t budge, they walked in death silence.

There was a breeze outside, she saw everyone standing in their rightful places. Feyd-Rautha was standing in front of the Emperor who was seated on a moveable throne. Feyd’s hands clasped behind his back, he watched Duke Leto bring Y/N to stand next to her, he noticed that she was avoiding eye contact like an expert.

Leto, when he made her stand next to her husband- to-be he took a step to Feyd, held his arm and whispered into his ear, ‘’Hurt my daughter and I will end your entire blood line.’’ He gave a pat on Feyd’s shoulder and left them.

The field was silent, she could hear the birds, it calmed her. Were there any birds in Giedi Prime?

Padishah Emperor Shaddam basically announced that this young couple had his blessing and the wedding would take place in House Harkonnen’s planet. He made them kiss his ring and ended the ceremony. Y/N walked to her family to say goodbye, Feyd watching her intently, Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, Jessica hugged her tightly and whispered into her ear.

‘’Remember your training.’’

Feyd made her take his arm, his ceremonial clothing was black, he was covered in it, together they walked to the ship. ‘’I must say you look pleasant in green.’’ He spoke quietly, Y/N turned to see the small smile on his plump lips, ‘’Thank you.’’ And they walked to the ship, Y/N looked at her family before the metal door closed.

Tag list; @superchatnoir07

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Thank you for reading. :)

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Do You Want To Know A Secret (Teen!George Harrison x Teen!Lennon!Reader)

A/N: Hello, Happy Easter! I'm posting another oneshot, because why not? I feel like it could have been a little better than what I wrote, but I was in a bit of a rush to get it out. Who doesn't love some George?

Summary: It's 1961. You're John's sister and he refuses to let you talk to anyone in his band (and vice versa) despite your house being their practice location. George scores some alone time with you one day, and sings you a little song he composed for you.

WARNINGS: SUGGESTIVE BEHAVIOUR; the reader is pretty confident in this oneshot. Mentions of sex, but nothing further than a heated make out session/ neck kissing really occurs in this. Swearing, probably, but I could be wrong. George starts out shy but he is not by the end. There are probably some typos as well oops.

This one is T rated, but just read at your own risk because as mentioned, sex is discussed

It was 1961, a relatively warm Friday evening after dinner, where an eighteen year old George Harrison was accompanied by a nineteen year-old Paul McCartney, on the way to the Lennon household.

Band practice was that night, the newly renamed "Beatles" preparing for their next gig at the Cavern Club just that following evening. George had his guitar case in hand, and Paul, his base, as they walked and talked.

John's house could be spotted from where the two were now, and George, who was talking in that moment, lost train of thought when he spotted someone just outside the front door.

That someone was you. John's little sister. Aged eighteen; like George.

George could feel his heart fluttering as he watched you move around the front garden, watering can in hand as you tended to the little flowers in the window planters.

"Don't stare," Paul lightly chided in a sing-song tone, wagging his finger at George when he came back down to earth, cheeks flush at the idea of having been caught looking.

"But look at her," George groaned, hand gesturing towards you haphazardly before dropping it down helplessly at his side. "Just look at how perfect--"

"And off limits," Paul added quickly.

"... she is," George sighed as he finished his sentence, a rather upsetting frown on his face. The boys had since halted walking, making sure to be far enough away that you weren't in earshot of their conversation.

"Look, Harry," Paul rested a hand on the younger boy's shoulder in comfort. "I know how you feel. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think she was a looker, y'know?"

Paul and George glanced over at you for a moment, before he continued.

"... but if I had a sister, and three lads who couldn't keep their eyes off her, I couldn't say I wouldn't be doing what Lenny's doing right now."

George knew that Paul was right. As much as he hated it, John loved you very much, and was cautious of any guy trying to be near you, especially now that you were a young adult, and not some child.

Every time the band gathered at John's house, everyone seemed to be under a microscope-- including you. The boys weren't allowed to talk to you, and you couldn't even look at anyone without your brother hollering at you to get upstairs, or to refocus back to your homework, or whatever task you had at hand.

But in moments like this, where the protective older brother wasn't around, George took every chance he could to greet you with a smile on his face.

And he wasn't going to stop now.

"I get it, mate. I just... there's something about her." That's the simplest George could have explained it to Paul. He wasn't about to disclose that he dreamt of you almost every night, or that he relished in the moments of excitement and anxiety of being able to see you, if only for five seconds out of his entire week.

And he certainly would not have told him about the songs he was composing; his muse being you, of course.

It was all just one giant secret, and as much as George wanted to tell you, all he thought of were downsides in result of revealing such a thing to you.

George thought that you, for starters, were leaps and bounds out of his league, he was scared of being laughed at, and he would have been absolutely horrified if John were to ever find out.

The negatives drastically outweighed the positives, so he was better to keep his mouth shut.

George and Paul continued their trek to the building, and when they finally made it to the walkway leading to the door, you turned your head, smiling gently and waving to them once you realized who it was.

"Good afternoon, lads," you greeted politely, and George nearly melted at the sound of your voice.

"Hello, Miss Lennon," the boys responded in unison. George cringed a little at that, pushing through the door with Paul following close behind. As much as he wanted to stick around, he knew it would have been too risky.

And thank God he made made that choice. John was waiting for them in the main foyer, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't seem too happy, but he wasn't quite pissed off, either; almost as if he were in limbo of the two.

"'Bout time yous showed up. Me n' Pete've been waiting forever. C'mon, now." John waved his hand as he headed for the basement stairs, and the boys wordlessly continued on so they could begin their practice. George only looked over his shoulder once before descending the steps, hoping to have caught just one more glimpse of you, but to no avail.

"We have a show tomorrow, and you boys decided to be a quarter of an hour late!" John complained on as he threw his guitar strap over his shoulder. Pete was in the corner of the room on his drum set just shaking his head as he grabbed his drumsticks and tapped a little on his instrument. he must have been there for a while already.

Paul and George hurriedly grabbed out their instruments, apologizing so the older boy's complaints would cease. "As long as you're ready to play now, I don't care."

John always got sort of tense when the other three boys were over, hyper-focussed on keeping you away from them and vice versa. He was more or less worried about Paul trying to flirt with you, so a lot of John's poor behaviour stemmed from that.

Little did he know that it was actually George who'd fallen head over heels for you.

But that wasn't something to worry about in that moment. What was important was that practice began, and that they had to see improvement before their show just that following night.

Practice was going well. They had been at it for nearly an hour at that point, and the more they worked, the more pleased each boy was with the sound. They took a brief pause for some water, and John was rifling through his pile of lyrics sitting on a table in the corner of the room, trying to decide which one to practice next.

As George finished the last drop of water in his glass, John piped up, "I don't have all my songs here. Must've left them in my room."

"Which ones?" George asked, empty glass still in-hand. "I'm running up for a refill, might as well grab that for you as well."

"I think I left them on my desk at the side. You sure you don't want me running up?"

George swatted his hand as he started for the stairs. "Don't worry 'bout it. Be back in a jiff."

George hopped up the stairs, leaving his glass on the kitchen counter next to the sink before moving down the main foyer. He paused at the front door to peek out the window to see if you were still outside, but he didn't see you from where he was standing. He sighed gently before turning and making his way up to the second floor.

George made his way down to John's room at the end of the hallway. It was the only room with the door open, and before he even made it into the room, he could see the pile of lyrics on the desk, right where John said they'd be.

He picked up the pile, shuffling through them and counting the pages as he did so. He took one more brief glance around the room to make sure he wasn't missing anything else. When he decided this was all he needed, he turned on his heel and headed out to the hallway.

George was just about to make it to the stairs when he felt someone take hold of his arm, and swiftly tug him into one of the other rooms. The moment was a blur for him, and it took him a second to piece together what happened. He was standing in the middle of the room-- your room.

And you were only three feet away from him, back against the door, and cheeks glowing pink.

"Hello," you smiled gently, and George had no clue what to say, pages clutched tightly against his chest as his brain swirled with millions of thoughts.

"Hi," he squeaked, face burning in humiliation at his flustered state, but he was in your room, for Christ's sake. Your room! He had no clue what to say to you, mouth hanging open as he tried to search his brain for some other words.

"Look, I know we're not supposed to be doing this," you expressed, and George could feel his heart doing violent flips in his chest, especially when you pushed yourself off the door to take a step or two closer to him. This was the longest conversation he had with you, to date.

"Johnny would kill me if he knew I had a boy in my room, you know," you took a moment to pause, and all George could do was nod his head in agreement, intoxicated by the way you walked, and the way you talked. There was a hint of something in your voice... but the boy couldn't quite place what it was. Yearning? That couldn't be right... could it?

"But where's the fun in that, huh?" You asked, hands clasped behind your back, eyes staring right back into his, and George couldn't help but break his gaze first, utterly intimidated by your confidence. His eyes fixated to the dress you were wearing, and he could see a playful smile dancing on your lips in his peripheral.

"... You like what you see, Georgie?" You asked lowly after a moment, and his stare shot back up to your face again, certain his legs were numb. The nickname rolled off your tongue so effortlessly, so perfectly. The things it was doing to him...

"I..." he could barely speak, breaths ragged. Not one coherent thought was at the forefront of his brain, other than one simple word.

"Pretty." Your smile was a little more genuine now after he said that, and you reached a hand up to tuck a little strand of hair behind your ear.

"You think I'm pretty?"

George just nodded again. It was only now that he realized how much shorter you were compared to him, as you were only a foot away from him; the closest you'd ever been. He was looking down at you, but you were, in no way, intimidated by him. It was actually quite the opposite.

"You know, Georgie, you're pretty handsome, yourself," you professed, smiling wider as George's face burned even hotter.

He couldn't even thank you, scared of what would have happened if he tried to utter any kind of response to you. You reached out to rest a hand on his arm, and your smile faltered just a little.

"You're really tense... am I making you uncomfortable?" George's eyes widened, swallowing nervously as he shook his head 'no' as quickly as he could. He didn't want-- whatever this was-- to stop. The sincere upturn of your lips returned, and George couldn't help but flit his gaze down to your lips.

If only he had as much confidence as you, he might have just dipped down to have a taste...

"Look, I don't wanna keep you any longer. I know Johnny's gonna be looking for you soon." You thought for a moment before mentioning, "usually after you boys leave, he's down there for another hour or so practicing his own songs. Come back and see me after, yeah? Get to know each other a little more?" You raised an eyebrow expectantly, and George nodded his head again.

"Okay," he managed to whisper, resulting in you rising to your toes, and wordlessly pecking him on the cheek.

He felt like he was dreaming.

"Run along now, before they get suspicious!"

George's feet, though seemingly glued to the floor moments before, took off quickly, opening the door, and disappearing out into the hallway, shutting it closed behind him. As soon as he was on his own, he sighed heavily, the rush of oxygen in his lungs making him feel light-headed.

For someone who seemed so innocent in the open, around others, George could never have guessed how much of a minx you were behind closed doors. One part of him was still in denial that his interaction with you was even real, let alone meant to be flirtatious in any way...

But man, he would have been stupid not to take you up on your offer. It was just another hour he had to spend practicing, and he'd be right back in there, hopefully earning another kiss on the cheek from you.

George looked at the lyric papers in his hands one last time before sighing one more time, and going back downstairs. He passed his forgotten water glass in the kitchen, mind on an entirely different planet.

He returned to the basement, handing John the papers. He thanked the younger boy, pausing for a second to watch him move to grab his guitar.

"Where's your glass, Harry?"

George tensed when John asked that, hand on the neck of the guitar.

"... Left it upstairs,"  he responded.

"Thought you were grabbing a refill?" John's inquiries had George grasping for what to say next, but he was quick enough.

"Refilled the glass up there, drank it, and figured I'd be fine for the rest of practice."

His confession, though a lie, was believable enough for John, who just nodded his head slowly and drew his attention to the papers after a second, discussing which song they were going to practice next.

George just flew under the radar then, and he mentally cursed himself for being so careless. He look a quick glance at Paul, who was giving him a look; almost as if he knew something happened up there.

But he would never know the truth.

The shared glance fell apart when John advised everyone to get into position for playing, and they did just that.

The hour seemed to drag, George felt; but as time moved on, the more anxious he began to feel again. By the time everyone was packing up to leave, he was almost vibrating with anxiety.

He wanted to be close to you again so badly, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself as he had in the last interaction.

Pete, Paul, and George wished John a good night, and climbed the stairs to the main floor in that order, leaving John alone to continue practicing. Pete left Paul and George in the main hallway with a little wave, and a short "see yous tomorrow," before taking off out the front door.

Paul grabbed the door handle next and turned back to George, who stood in one spot a little too far away from the door.

"... Not walking home with me?" He asked in confusion, and when George didn't have a disposable answer, the pieces seemed to be finally clicking for the other boy.

He opened his mouth as if to lecture George on how bad of an idea sticking around would be, but instead, he tightened his jaw, shook his head, and waved to him.

"G'night Harry," he tossed a little wave out before taking off into the dusk.

He was alone now.

That could only mean one thing.

George eyed the stairs, knowing that if he turned on his heel and walked out right then, it'd be one of the biggest mistakes in his life. But he couldn't deny the fact that he was nervous; intimidated by you, and your assertive, rather sexy behaviour from earlier.

He took a deep breath, grabbing the railing, and hiking up the stairs slowly.

He stood outside your bedroom door much longer than he would have liked to admit, taking deep breaths and reciting words over and over again in his brain, as if this whole interaction were scripted-- as if he knew what was going to happen.

When he finally composed himself properly, he rapped on the door gently, hoping you would hear his presence on the other side. When you finally came around to open the door, his heart skipped a beat.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming back," you voiced softly, leaning against the doorframe, handle still in hand. You sounded a little relieved, almost, seeing the boy on the other side of the threshold.

You were in your pyjamas, a set that showed enough skin on your arms and legs that it made George, red-faced, shake his head to reactivate his brain, which pretty much short circuited.

"You goin' to bed?" His words left his mouth faster than he realized he was even saying them. Sure, it was getting late out, but would you have really changed if you were expecting company?

"Well, that depends. Will you be joining me?" You were so quick on your feet in response that it honestly impressed George, the heat returning to his face as he tried to think of what to say next, not daring to drop his line of sight below your chin.

"I'm only teasing you," you laughed after a moment of watching George squirm, pushing off the doorframe and allowing him to enter your bedroom again. As he passed you, he caught sight of you gazing up his body, shrugging and adding a little "... maybe," to the end of your sentence.

You were such a tease, and George set his guitar case off to the side, facing away from you, so he could hide just how giddy and flushed he was just being in there with you again. He rose to his feet and turned to face you. You were only a few feet away from him again, eyes on him intensely, smile still present.

"... I hope you know just how glad I am that you came back," you expressed again, honestly. George raised an eyebrow at that, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wanted to tear his gaze from yours so badly, but your face was just so gorgeous to look at, and he didn't want to be caught looking at your outfit again; he knew some more teasing would surely ensue if he was caught staring.

"Why wouldn't I come back?" George replied bashfully, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Wouldn't miss a chance to be here, with you, for the world."

Your stare softened at his words, beaming as your own cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. George wasn't sure you were really expecting something like that coming from him. "... You really mean that?"

George desperately wanted to elaborate a little further, but he just settled on giving you a little nod, smiling back shyly at your question.

"Maybe I thought I might've scared you off for being so forward earlier," you admitted timidly as you turned on your heel. You took a seat at the edge of your bed, and George surveyed your movements, eyebrows lifting a little when you reached out to pat the empty space next to you on the mattress after a moment.

"Care to take a seat?"

George accepted the invitation, and you felt the bed dip when he sat down. His eyes cast down to the floor, face still red at the idea of being in your presence; having your attention.

"You know, Georgie... my brother can be pretty stupid sometimes. But making this house the place for band practice, I think, was one of the best decisions he's ever made."

His eyes met yours again at your words, and you shrugged one of your shoulders.

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't been dying to talk to you. Or get to know you. You seem so kind, and you're so attractive, and John wants to keep you away from me, and I'm so sick of him deciding what's best for me."

Your eyes cast down between the both of you for a moment, and George could feel his heart trying to leap out of his chest. His fingertips felt numb, mouth hanging slack as you continued your profession.

"I knew the only way to get close and alone with you was to bring you in here. And I saw the way you were looking at me earlier, and I had to get you to come back."

It felt like the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Was he really that obvious when he was in here last?

"It's thrilling... having a boy like you in my room, while John's clueless out there as to what we're doing. What we could be doing..."

George's mind was going places he was never expecting it to that evening, especially with the help of you voicing it aloud. He was in utter disbelief of what you were telling him, convinced he'd fallen asleep throughout the day, and he was caught in some blissful dream he wished would never end.

"I feel a little selfish, springing so much information on you at once... but every time I see you, I desperately want to be with you; and today, I had to jump to take that chance. I couldn't wait another week, another day."

You smiled sheepishly, not really expecting George to say anything after that. You were honestly just trying to get your thoughts off your chest, and now that you had, you felt a lot better. You were also pleased with the little look of shock on George's face. You liked doing that to him.

You decided to break his trance by nodding over to his guitar case sitting on the floor. "So... You have plans to serenade me, Georgie?"

Your question definitely brought him back down to earth, and he took a quick glance at the case before looking back to you. Your confession was still ringing clear in his head like a bell. He felt he didn't have the words to admit his feelings as clearly as you had right on the spot...

He did, however, have the words pre-planned as lyrics, in a multitude of original songs he wrote for you.

"... I do, actually," he agreed, standing up to open his case and retrieve his instrument. George was feeling a little more excited now, knowing any girl these days would swoon at the idea of having music written for them, and he just hoped you would too.

He returned to the bed, deciding against tossing the strap over his shoulder. He faced you so you could hear and see every little thing he did. He was at least glad he didn't get performance anxiety on the guitar.

He gently strummed out a few different notes, deciding in his head which song he wanted to perform for you. One in particular stuck out in his mind, and he couldn't deny that it was the perfect choice.

He was a little worried about how you'd feel about his playing, and the lyrics, but he wanted to show you that he could be confident about this, especially since he was nearly certain now that his feelings were reciprocated. But he had to play it cool.

"It is a work in progress. I've only half of it written, but I really think you'll like it," George explained to you before allowing the notes to fill the air around you both.

"Listen,

Do you want to know a secret?

Do you promise not to tell?

Closer,

Let me whisper in your ear,

Say the words you long to hear,

I'm in love with you."

It was only then that you realized this was the first time you'd ever seen, or heard George play. This beautiful genius was being hidden away from you this whole time, and it was a blessing to see his work up close.

His left hand slid along the fretboard so easily, thumb and fingers on his right tickling the strings as if it were second nature to him. You couldn't decide which hand you wanted to look at. His digits were skillful on the instrument, and George made sure to almost exaggerate his movements to impress you.

He pretty much had you in a trance, now, daydreaming about what else those hands could do...

"I've known a secret for a week, or two,

Nobody knows, just we two,"

George had been worried the whole song about messing up the notes, eyes so focused on where his fingers were going... But he glanced up at you, realizing how hypnotized you were, like putty in his hands, and he decided there was nothing to worry about.

He decided to sing right to you now, soft eyes on your face, and when your field of view locked with his, he knew he wouldn't dare break the stare.

"Listen,"

This wasn't a song anymore.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

This was his confession.

"Do you promise not to tell?"

His way of showing you what you really meant to him.

"Closer,"

He wasn't clouded by any insecurities or doubt anymore.

"Let me whisper in your ear,"

Your gaze flitted down just enough to watch George's canines poke out from behind his lips as he sung, and your eyelashes lowered at the sight of his beautiful mouth.

"Say the words you long to hear,"

Your mind was absorbing the lyrics like a sponge in water, every single word eliciting a feeling so strong in your heart, you could hear it pumping in your ears.

"I'm in love with you."

George hummed away as he played the final notes, a little smile still on his lips when he let the last chord ring out into a room of silence.

When that stillness remained for a moment, George couldn't help but ask with a little bit of hesitation, "Well... what do you thi--"

He couldn't even get the rest of his question out before you darted at him, lips smashing into his as if he were about to disappear forever.

He let out a little surprised hum before he pulled the guitar out from between the both of you, and you took it as an opportunity to push your body closer to him, arms wrapping around his collarbone.

He blindly set the guitar down to lean it against your bed, and when he let go of the neck of the instrument, his hands went for your hips, squeezing your sides gently before pulling you right up into his lap. your actions bloomed a type of self-assurance within him he had no idea he could even possess.

It was your turn to squeal excitedly, but George's lips on yours muffled the sound. One of his hands snaked around to the small of your back before it slipped under your shirt, his palm dragging up your spine. His fingertips took note of each vertebrae it dipped up and down into, like the frets on his guitar.

This, George decided, was better than a dream. This whole situation unfolding around him made him feel as though he died and went to heaven.

He pulled his lips away from yours, free hand reaching up to grip your chin and directing you to tilt your head up. His lips suckled on the side of your neck, and the sound coming from your mouth was absolutely euphoric to him. But he removed his palm from your chin to cover your mouth, his other hand still feeling and memorizing every curve and dip in your back.

"You must be quiet, Love. Wouldn't want your brother knowing about all this fun we're having up here, eh?" Your eyes rolled back at his words, groaning into his hand as you felt George drag his teeth gently along the column of your throat.

Knowing you were enjoying this as much as he was only brought more confidence to his actions, and he let his tongue poke out to leave a large, wet kiss on your collarbone.

You were squirming in his lap, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging so he knew he was doing everything right.

He groaned at the friction you were creating at the hips, and he pulled away from your neck to kiss your lips again after removing his hand and placing it on the back of your neck.

You swallowed his moans as you continued to grind in his lap, but both of your movements paused when you heard the guitar come crashing down to the carpeted floor. It wasn't as loud as it could have been, but it was loud enough.

You both kept an ear out, knowing that might have caught the attention of someone downstairs, and when you began to hear footsteps shuffling around, you began to panic a little, eyes wide and darting back to George, whose face was flushed from the assault of your kisses, and hair was a tangled mess from your fingers.

"You gotta hide," you rushed out quietly, and though you tried to climb out of George's lap, his hands kept you planted right where you were.

"What are you doing?!"

"... What if I didn't?" He challenged you a little, a daring smirk at his lips.

"Had you not been so naughty, with all that moving and teasing, the guitar wouldn't have fallen, eh? And we wouldn't be in this situation at all." The points of his canines were showing again, and you groaned at his words.

"George, I'd love to continue this, but John will kill you if we're caught, and we can't do this if you're dead!"

"Well then we just won't get caught," he responded simply. He was blinded by desire, his confidence seeping out of him like sap from a tree as he placed his mouth back on your neck.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and you both heard a knock, George not showing any sign of stopping his actions.

"Don't come in, I'm-- I'm not wearing any clothes!!" It was the first thing you could blurt out to whoever was on the other side.

"Oh, baby, that'd be a sight to see," George mumbled against your skin, pulling your top down just enough so he could suck a dark spot just above your left breast so you could easily hide it away, and you sighed heavily at the contact, face burning red.

"Just heard a loud thud. Just making sure all is okay," it was John on the other side; completely oblivious to the actual scene occurring on the other side of the door.

"Yeah, a book from my shelf was knocked over! N-nothing to worry about!"

George grabbed your chin again when you were finished talking, shoving his tongue right into your mouth as you both heard John respond with, "oh, okay. Just making sure you're alright. Have a good night."

You listened closely as the footsteps quieted, and when there was no sign of anyone else on the second floor, let alone at the door, you pulled away from George's kiss.

"Well... how was that?"

"Risky," you replied, a rather unimpressed look on your face as you unraveled your arms from George's shoulders and crossed them over your chest.

"Well, you don't have to worry about him anymore, Love," he tried to give you another kiss, but you placed your fingers against his lips. It was your turn to smirk mischievously.

"You know what, Georgie... I think you've had enough action for tonight."

You could see the smug grin fall right off George's face as you removed your hand. Surely you had to have been joking. But when you pushed a little to get off him, his arms fell to his side, a little pout on his face.

"You're serious? Love, you got me all hot and bothered..."

"George, you really thought we were going to go all the way tonight with other people in the house?" You laughed out loud at that; and when you said it like that, he would have had to agree that it did sound ridiculous.

"Trust me, Georgie, I want to," you placed a hand on his cheek in comfort, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he looked up at you as if he was the shy boy you interacted with just an hour before.

"But we both know doing that in an empty house would be far better than having to keep quiet about it, huh?"

All George could do was imagine that situation, eyes drifting shut, and tilting his head into your caressing hand.

"You're such a damn tease," he mumbled, eyes blinking back open after a moment.

"All good things come to those who wait," was all you said, leaving one, sweet kiss on his lips before pulling away, and nodding to his guitar. "We better pack you up and send you home."

You watched as George situated himself, placing his guitar back in the case, closing it and picking it up. You wrapped your arms around him gently, planting another kiss on his cheek.

"By the way... I think that song was beautiful," you whispered to him, and when you pulled away to see him smiling at you, you couldn't help but match the grin on your own lips.

"See you next week? Same time?"

"You don't even have to tell me twice," George responded with, and you just had to lean in for one more smooch on the lips, to which he eagerly reciprocated.

He then opened your window up, and took a step out. You watched as he climbed down the corner of the house slowly, and before he took off down the road, he blew you a kiss, to which you mimicked catching with your hand.

As George headed home, the sun now fallen over the horizon, those intimate moments he shared with you were at the very forefront of his mind. His hands could still feel your bare skin under his fingertips, and his mouth tingled as he remembered what it was like to have your lips on his.

He was just craving for the next moment he had alone with you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: And there we are! hope you all enjoy this, and I hope your Easter weekend was full of sun, and fun! Please let me know if you want to read more so I know it' worth it to post!

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[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 7

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N:Sorry for not posting this part earlier! I’ve been sick all week but I’m finally functioning like a human again 🤭 you’ll see some references to what really happened in season 3, I just adapted it to this story. Anyways hope you enjoy it! 🥰 let me know in the comments xx

Word count: 3,964

Tommy felt his anger raising, but he needed to calm down and think.

Think straight, have a clear mind.

Father Hughes was the most irritating person on earth. He didn’t want him to be involved in his charity project, that man was far from being someone respectable and he only make him waste his time. Deep down, Tommy knew he must have a dark past, something that he did wrong… he just needed to find what was his weakness.

It was still early, but still he needed a drink. Taking a glass and a decanter, he poured himself some.

“Thomas.” Polly called from the door.

“I need you to take care of everything today, gotta go.”

“Where?”

“I’ve a meeting, will probably be back later tonight.” He took a long swing of his drink. “Arranged a meeting with Vicente Changretta, Arthur and John will be there.”

They needed to fix the relationship with the Italians, after burning down the restaurant. He already had enough trouble in his hands.

“Fine.” She looked at him intensely. “You know… I was talking to Lizzie yesterday.”

Tommy hummed unbothered.

“Has Y/N told you if Lizzie keeps pissing her off?”

“No. Why?” He moved to his desk to take a few things.

Polly shuddered, perhaps she understood Lizzie wrong, she seemed to feel embarrassed and refused to say anything else to her.

“She’s jealous.” Polly ran her fingers through her hair. “She thought Y/N’s baby was yours.”

Tommy’s head snapped towards his aunt. His eyes had closed in disbelief. “What the fuck?”

“Look, I’m not judging her, and you shouldn’t either.” Polly gave him a knowing glance, se had talked to the secretary and she seemed to be having a change of heart.

“She told me she’s willing to do anything to get you to trust her once more.”

Pondering on Polly’s words, Tommy thought for a couple of seconds. “Anything eh? Alright… she’s going to help us clean the mess she made.”

He’d try to push Lizzie’s buttons just to make sure how far she could go. The sudden change could’ve a reason behind.

Now it was Polly’s turn to squint her eyes. “What are you thinking of?”

“She’s going to break up this absurd romance with Angel Changretta. Very peacefully.”

“Isn’t that too much to ask?” She asked cautiously.

“Explain to Lizzie how life works, no matter what Angel says, he’ll always remind her of her past. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll always have her desk available here as a secretary, but if she keeps this going, I’m going to be her worst nightmare.” He warned right before storming out his office.

First he’d stop by to pay Ada a visit, then off to the meeting with the Russian royalty.

***

Y/N thanked the two men carrying the last piece of furniture into the office, they previously brought in the small desk and chairs, the bookshelf and a file cabinet.

In the corner of the room, she kept a box full of folders, sheets and other office supplies she would distribute among the classrooms. Most of her days have been busy organizing the storage and after a while it seemed to be presentable.

“Miss Y/N Y/LN?” The gardener called, getting her attention. “Your presence is required outside.”

“Oh! Sure.”

The Shelby Institute might open its doors any moment now, she thought as she strolled through the long hall, her shoes clacked against the floor, the daily walks around the institute made her keep in a good shape, because her belly was becoming more prominent day by day, of course she got out of breath anyways.

“We just need you to check if it’s the right color.” Paul asked pointing at the wall.

Tommy made sure to hire Small Heath people, purchasing all the material from local and small businesses, he felt this urge to help as much as possible because he couldn’t stop thinking given different circumstances, it would be him instead of them struggling with money, not having enough in their pockets to feed their family.

“This looks amazing, thank you for all the hard work you’re doing.” Y/N praised.

It wasn’t her place to supervise, but Tommy officially let her decide everything that was needed; from the color, decoration, even the personnel. He just kept signing cheques.

“Am I still on time to enroll my children? Could you ask Mr. Shelby, Miss Y/LN?”

“Yes of course you can! Bring me the papers tomorrow morning and the authorization.”

It was Tommy’s wish, to help as much people as possible.

The man gave her an embarrassed glance. “I don’t want them to be like me, I want them to have an education.” He added with melancholy.

“There’s nothing wrong to work in construction Billy,” Y/N encouraged. “But it’s admirable that you want them to be better.”

“That wouldn’t be possible without Mr. Shelby’s generosity.”

Y/N smiled at him but before she could step inside the building again, she noticed a car parking behind. Squinting her eyes because of the sun, she could barely tell who was that.

“Is this the Institution that runs that gang leader?” The man asked, judging by his attire he was a priest, but there was some off about him that said otherwise.

An uneasy feeling made Y/N take a step back, she covered her bump with the folders in her hands in a protective motion.

“Who’s asking?”

Tommy would be the last person on earth to have something to do with a priest.

The man looked her up and down, giving her a nasty and dirty stare.

“Tell him I’ll supervise this place, once it’s open.”

When he left, his vehicle made a cloud of dust. He didn’t ask politely, no, he pretended to be in charge of the charity.

Y/N walked inside the Institute again, making a mental note to add a room for the children to read, and they might need a fountain in the patio. She chuckled to herself, realizing she started to sound like Tommy.

No long after honking loudly, Tommy announced his presence, Y/N saw him behind the window as he was strolling towards her.

“Pick up your stuff, we’re going.” He announced.

“Where?”

“Somewhere, don’t ask.”

Y/N frowned. “I’ve to ask, it’s going to be midday, there’s things that need to be done.”

Tommy stepped into her office, looking for her coat and handbag.

“Yeah I pay you a ridiculous amount of money it’s about time you hire an assistant.” He said with a wink.

“An assistant of an assistant. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.” She added, Tommy noticed she crossed her arms, not pleased by his interruption, she was always doing what she had to do and don’t you dare to move something from her things-to-do-list.

“It’s something good, trust me.”

“Can I ask where are we going?” Y/N asked enjoying the wind in her face.

“No.”

“What’s with all this secrecy?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to tell me no.”

“Well, you better include food because the baby is getting hungry.” Y/N smiled at her bump, while her hands caressed in a circle motion. Day by day she was getting fond of her baby.

“Oh I was counting you’d say that, lately you’re demanding more and more food.” He added in a light mood.

“Polly says I need to eat for two.” Y/N defended.

Tommy chuckled and in a blink, he was gone. He literally stormed into the library.

The little information she managed to get was that now she was reading out loud for Tommy a book about Russians that ran away from the revolution and opted to live exiled and from the Crown’s charity. Tommy assured her that way was practical.

Parking later after in front of a couple of shops, but she still knew so little about what was behind Tommy’s requests.

“I’ve a meeting around, it should be quick,” he explained helping Y/N out of the car, “but I thought it might be good if you start searching for some baby furniture, eh?”

“Tommy…” She covered her mouth with her hand.

“And don’t even start saying you don’t have money, I promised your grandma to look after the two of you, and that includes the things the baby will need.” Tommy used her shocked state to practically drag her inside the store, wining the argument way before it could start. “Hello, we would like to check out a moses, a rocking chair, a drawer…”

Y/N stared at him silently, Tommy thought of everything and even though his generosity wasn’t a surprise, it still came out of the blue, catching her off guard.

“Would you like us to open an account?” Asked the perplexed sales woman.

“Yes,” Tommy answered eyeing a catalog. “Everything she wants, a lamp, the carpet, the sheets… just put it into my account.” He handled a card with his company name and address. “Pick you up in about an hour?”

Y/N nodded, still trying to process everything.

“Leave something for the rest of the costumers ey!” Tommy shouted from the door before disappearing.

The woman started swooning immediately. “I hope the baby will get his eyes.” The woman admitted with a blush.

Y/N opened her mouth to correct her and tell her that Tommy wasn’t the father, but she closed it instead, remembering the advise her grandmother shared with her; don’t explain your situation to people you don’t know, let them believe their assumptions even if it’s incorrect. It will save you of uncomfortable explanations.

So Y/N gave the sales woman an awkward smile and followed her to the back of the store, this moment would arrive sooner or later and she was already here.

“We can make any piece you want in a variety of colors, there’s a trunk in the corner that goes well with this dresser…”

“Let me bring the fabric catalog for the carpets.” Added another woman, they obviously wanted to make a juicy sale.

Y/N felt like she was walking on a cloud, the smile on her face couldn’t get bigger. And now, she was the one swooning over the furniture, her imagination taking her to unknown places with images of her rocking her baby to sleep, or taking a look through the canopy at a small bundle of joy.

An excited gasp escaped her lips when she landed her eyes on a crib mobile. Her heart did this flip inside her chest and she could hardly hide her emotions.

“Should we add it?” The expert eye of the sales woman noticed her excitement. “Your baby will be fascinated and spend hours staring at it.”

The mobile had a handmade star and a sheep, a fluffy cloud and a small sun. It was adorable, she couldn’t wait for her baby to be born to use everything.

Y/N was allowed to sit on the rocking chairs to see which one felt more comfortable and the women showed her a few combinations to create a whole set of dresser, a small wardrobe, a bedside table and also the different colors they had to offer. The more she looked, the more confused she felt because everything was beautiful! She had never had the chance to purchase furniture, since her house was filled with her grandma’s possessions.

A fond memory of her grandmother knitting a blanket for one of her sisters filled her mind, her parents didn’t have enough money to buy fancy furniture, so they used a basket as a crib, she was just a girl but she remembered it clearly.

Both women shared endless recommendations for her baby arrival, and Y/N felt extremely grateful and was willing to take every little thing that could be helpful.

As she flicked another page of the catalog, she wondered how long would it take Tommy to pick her up, then her thoughts wandered towards her sister Lee-Anne, the last time she saw her, it was the day her father hit her. They couldn’t meet because their parents where so strict now, after what happened, they were trying to move under the radar according to her grandmother. There were so many things she wanted to tell Lee-Anne, firstly assure her that she was alright, she didn’t need to worry, then when the time is right, she would explain everything to her, so the younger girl wouldn’t make the same mistake as her.

Not that she thought her baby was a mistake, no. Those are two separate things. But the circumstances it’s what was wrong, she was aware that not all women had a Tommy Shelby around the corner to selflessly take care of everything.

If only she knew then, she’d do it differently.

“Y/N?” A gentle voice called for her, something squeezed her arm slightly.

Her eyes fluttered open and Y/N looked around confused.

“You fell asleep.” Tommy pointed out.

“It happens all the time.” The sales woman gave her a small glance. “We didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Goodness.” Y/N felt embarrassed and mortified, she felt tired.

“So, I think you found the perfect rocking chair then.” Tommy raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“We’ll have everything delivered in a couple of weeks.” Her smile couldn’t get bigger.

Thanking them, Tommy and Y/N stepped outside the boutique, she wanted to stretch her legs so bad.

“How did your meeting go?”

“Boring.”

He always had just a few words to say. But his eyes, said everything that was crossing his mind.

“Did you get to drink vodka and do the Russian dance?” Y/N teased.

Tommy scoffed at her sense of humor.

“He’s a liar, a buffer. He’s just a filthy lucky bastard with the right connections.”

He sighed loudly, but at least Tommy was sharing something with her. In that case it would be so easy for him to make that man show his true colors.

As he started the engine, Y/N started telling him of all the adorable things they showed her at the store, noticing the way her eyes were glowing. And he obviously preferred that kind of news instead of the one Polly was about to share.

“I’ll wait here by the fireplace.” Y/N announced, not wanting to get in the middle of the argument.

Sitting in one of the couches, she leaned her head back, rolling her feet meanwhile a few steps away, the Shelby family were discussing over whatever John had made.

“If you apologize once, you do it again and again…” Y/N heard Tommy say as she was drifting away to sleep. But she was far too gone and tired.

Feeling drained after all the things he got busy with, Tommy couldn’t wait to be home.

“You can stay over so you don’t have to drive back.” He proposed to his brother Finn, who would be driving.

But as Tommy stepped into the entry, he stopped abruptly when his eyes landed on Y/N. She was peacefully sleeping on the couch, the flames of the fireplace casting shadows over her features while one of her hands rested under her belly.

He didn’t have the heart to wake her up.

“Bring the car around.” He whispered Finn, trying to concede Y/N a few more minutes before starting the road back home.

Taking off his coat, he slid it over her frame to cover her from the cold. Tommy tried to call her in a low voice, but she only adjusted her shoulder as answer. Y/N should probably take things easier, but she was adamant to finish the charity project, she was pouring every fiber of her soul into it and wanted to make sure every single detail was perfect.

“Y/N… let’s go.” Tommy tried again softly.

Fluttering her eyes, she slowly opened them squinting in confusion by feeling Tommy touching her shoulder.

“C’mon let me help you.”

“Hmm.” She hummed barely cooperating.

She was beyond sleepy by the time they reached the car, settled taking the back seat by herself, she heard the Shelby brothers talking something about an Italian pub and a fight that would eventually happen. Tommy mentioned something about their fragile ego and sending flowers to a hospital, but Y/N couldn’t be sure because maybe it was part of her dream.

She moved across the room, smashing the fresh berries for the pie she was baking, the lovely smell feeling the small kitchen, it was a sunny day and she could hear the birds chirping, when suddenly a baby cry came to her attention. Y/N rushed then to get pick up her baby who was demanding her presence.

“It’s just fine, are you hungry?” She cooed to settle the lovely bundle wrapped in a blanket.

“How’s my ray of sunshine?” Asked her grandmother from behind, reaching over to caress the baby’s face.

“Woke up hungry.”

“You feed the baby while I finish the pie.”

When the car took a turn Y/N’s bumped something, she woke up disoriented.

“Finally I was tired of you snoring.” Tommy teased taking at look over his shoulder.

“Oh my God I don’t snore!”

“Loud and clear.” Tommy assured her. “Like a truck driver.”

Y/N gave Tommy a surprised and embarrassed look, awkwardly she tried to fix her hair since it was out of place.

Finn rushed upstairs while Mary greeted them by the door.

“Something important came up?” Tommy asked the maid.

“Just a few letters.” She gave him a nod.

“Oh, and maybe a couple of responses to the charity invitation.” Y/N wondered out loud.

“All correspondence arrived under Mr. Shelby’s name.” The maid explained, making a bit obvious that she wasn’t very fond of Y/N.

Y/N looked between Tommy and Mary, waiting.

“Go on, go check the mail.” He told her softly.

“Mr. Shelby.” Mary tried to get his attention. “The mailman thinks Miss Y/LN is Mrs. Shelby, he asked me if Mrs. Shelby had anymore invites to send off.” The maid voiced with concern.

Tommy noticed the offended tone in her voice.

“Let him think whatever he wants, Mary.” Tommy shuddered, not thinking it was important. “As long as he takes the mail.”

“But…” she tried again, then closed her mouth when Tommy gave her the look.

“That’s all, thank you Mary.” Tommy dismissed her just as Y/N entered the reading room skipping happily.

“Guess!”

Sitting, Tommy groaned. “Guess what?”

“He said yes!” Y/N explained excitedly.

“Who?” He chuckled at her happiness.

“He leader of the Birmingham City Council is going to attend the dinner.” Y/N showed him the letter back. “Everyone has said yes.”

Tommy dragged his eyes from the piece of paper, towards Y/N.

“Ah.” Suddenly she got the energy of a kid, it was the nap during the car ride did wonders to her.

“I keep changing the menu, do you think we should offer something else?” Y/N kept explaining how she needed to send a Thank you note back to the people who had confirmed their attendance.

The charity was clearly an excellent job for her. Keeping her busy with something good whilst helping people in need and he was glad to have someone he could trust to take care of that.

“You need to remember to take this slowly, write off those notes tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.” He suggested.

“But Tommy, these things can’t wait, it takes days for the letters to be delivered and-”

“Very well then, why don’t you use the typewriter I gave you.” He cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

“Tom!” She chuckled. “You don’t write letters of a social occasion on a typewriter.” Y/N explained him with a smile.

“Oh, forgive me.” He raised his eyebrows.

She then went on to show him another paper. “I’ve the drawings of what they plan to do with the grounds of the institute. There’ll be an area for the children to play. Look.” He hummed in response. “And the Birmingham Charity Commission have agreed to set aside their three rotten floorboards upstairs and grant us the license within a month.”

She finally took a deep breath after managing to explain him all in record time. There was a soft smile playing on his lips and she found tenderness in his eyes.

“You’re not listening to me.” Y/N sentenced.

Tommy leaned forwards. “Yes I am. I am.”

“You think I’m becoming obsessed?” Y/N stopped abruptly.

A chuckle escaped Tommy’s lips. “No, as a matter of fact, I love the passion you’ve put into this project.”

“This wouldn’t be possible without you.” Y/N expressed honestly.

Tommy gave Y/N a long look, studying her features, until he finally spoke.

“I’ve something for you.” Y/N frowned confused. “I know you’ll say it’s a bit too much, but still.”

“What did you get?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Close your eyes.” Tommy encouraged.

“Tom.”

He fixed his eyes on her, not taking a no for as answer. So she gave in, turned around and closed her eyes.

Leaning back, Tommy got something out of his pocket, holding the chain between both hands, he presented Y/N the present.

Y/N felt lost for words when she saw the necklace. “What’s this?”

“A sapphire.” He explained calmly.

The cold stone sent a shiver down her spine when it made contact with her skin. It felt heavy and strange to have a stone that bug hanging from her neck.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“A simple thank you could work.” He winked. “And before you even start, you can either wear it or keep it in the box it’s your choice.”

Y/N was still trying to process the overpriced present, never in a million years she imagined to own something like that piece of expensive jewelry.

“This is insane, but thank you.” She chuckled nervously. “Where am I even supposed to wear something like this? The charity event?”

“You can wear it to church if you want, it’s yours Y/N.”

“Goodness.” She looked down at her chest and touched the cold gemstone. “You really look for any excuse to show off your wealth, damned bastard.”

Tommy laughed loudly. “You got me.”

“I wanted to ask you to be my baby’s godfather… but you’re going to spoil the poor child.”

“Oh I think I earned that right, so you better keep considering me.”

She slapped his arm playfully, earning another laugh from him. Tommy pulled her by the arm but the sharp move caught her off guard and made her loose her balance, landing on his chest. His arms came around her waist instantly in a protective motion, and their laughs subsided as soon as they realized how close they were to each other’s faces.

Something they both didn’t know how to name ignited in that moment, suddenly her warm hands felt like burning through the layers of his clothes, his deep blue sparkled in a way she had never seen before.

Struggling to form a coherent thought, Y/N used his chest to support her arms and move back. Tommy cleared his throat just as he was trying to clear his mind.

“Sorry… I stumbled.” She tried to smooth her clothes.

“Yeah.” He noticed the blush on her cheeks.

“Better go to get s-some rest.” The words rushed out of her lips. “Have a good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He replied more to himself, watching her leave the room.

Taking the remains of his drink in a swing, Tommy thought how close they were of crossing a line that would change everything.

Tag list: list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney

@gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan

@stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts

@moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22

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@already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx

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@holacia3 @galactict3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74

@natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1

[multific]

The Union of Two Houses

Paul Atreides x Reader

Warning: Arranged marriage

Summary: To strengthen the connection between your family and House Atreides, you are to marry Paul.

"Lady Y/L/N." came the voice from the entrance, letting everyone inside know that you have arrived.

Paul waited anxiously, often looking at his mother as she tried her best to calm him.

He had so many conversations with his parents ever since the news came that he was to marry a princess. Of course, Paul is against the idea. Marrying someone he didn't even know? He refused. But deep down, he understood his father's reasons. House Y/N/L was a very strong house, they held powers no one else did. So, Paul understood his father wanted to have such a powerful House on his side.

You, on the other hand, had been told since you were a child that one day you will marry a man you don't even know. 

Being the youngest out of five children, all four of your siblings being boys. You felt like your parents only saw you as a tool for them to marry off to a good family for connections.

And while you were told and prepared, it still did make you extremely anxious. 

You worried about what kind of a man would your father find for you. You feared he would give you to a terrible man who would hurt you, who would make the rest of your life miserable. 

"Atreides has a son. You will marry the son to strengthen the bond between the families." your mother told you one day, and you couldn't object.

And now, here you were, wearing a veil over your face to keep your innocence intact.

Paul looked at his mother, confused as to why was his bride wearing that.

"They have different customs." explained his mother and she only now realized Paul should have been advised about a couple of said customs.

While his father greeted you, Paul was looking at the floor, he soon realized you were standing in front of him, slowly bowing as his father introduced him.

"My son, your soon-to-be husband, Paul."

"Pleasure to meet you." you spoke up and Paul could barely hear you.

"Pleasure is all mine, Lady."

---

Paul was informed you will stay in a room close to his. Paul was also rather surprised that none of your parents attended.

He assumed maybe they would be there for the wedding.

There was a knock on his door, when he opened it he found you standing there, still wearing your veil.

"I apologize for interrupting your afternoon, your mother told me you could show me around?" now he heard you a little better, but your voice was still quiet.

"Of course, Lady." he simply said before leading you around the castle.

Showing you everything.

You particularly seemed to enjoy the garden and the library. Looking at all the different books.

"You enjoy reading?" He asked.

"Of course, I do. On our planet it is mostly raining, so we often stay inside. Reading by the window as the rain falls is something I will miss." 

"I can show you a couple books I enjoy."

"You read, My Lord?" you sounded rather surprised.

"When my time allows me."

"Oh, doesn't sound like you have a lot of free time."

"I don't, but I can still enjoy books." you smiled although you knew he wouldn't see that. "May I ask, Mother said you have customs before the wedding... I would like to know some, as I do not wish to offend you."

"Oh," you were surprised he was willing to learn. "I wear the veil so that my husband can take it off of my face during the ceremony. It symbolises purity, innocence and my willingness to my husband. Another custom is that we mustn't talk on the day of the wedding, nor can we see each other. It is said the desire would be greater that way. Do you have any customs?"

"None like that, but I wish to follow yours."

"I appreciate that, Lord."

"Call me Paul, please. I do not want us to be cold to each other, if I may also call you by your given name."

"I'd like that." you smiled and he could hear the smile in your voice.

Paul was intrigued. That afternoon he realized just how kind and gentle you were. He assumed it was your upbringing that made you so soft-spoken. You spoke briefly about your parents and siblings while Paul spoke about his family.

---

The wedding went on as everyone expected it. Your parents and your people arrived for the ceremony.

It was a true celebration of the union of two Houses. 

Paul was rather nervous to remove your veil but once he did and his eyes locked with yours, he smiled.

His bride was beautiful on the outside as much as she was on the inside. He placed just the softest little kiss on your lips as you were pronounced husband and wife.

And then, the celebration began.

Two cultures met.

Everyone was surprised at how much your people loved to dance. 

Never leaving the dance floor only to eat.

Paul smiled as he watched everyone celebrate, even the children were dancing, inviting his people to the dancefloor.

"I will be back soon." you said as you leaned over to Paul and he nodded.

You stood and walked with one of your maids.

The 'high table' as they called it was a bit further from the guests' tables. allowing space between them. The dancefloor was right by the guests as they occupied it mostly. Paul's eyes were still glued to the people, then a man stood up and the music stopped.

"Ladies and Gentleman, it is my pleasure to announce the next portion of the wedding, admittedly, it is my favourite part." said the man as he lifted a metal bowl. At this time, you walked out, wearing a completely different dress than the one you were in before, this allowed you to move more free and everyone could see the beautiful details. "Ladies and Gentleman I hope you all brought your silver or gold, as from now, the bride is for sale!" As the man lifted his hand, the music began and everyone at the high table, except your parents, looked between one another. 

Sale?

How dare they?! Paul nearly choked as he saw an older man toss a coin into the metal bowl, he took your hand and you danced with him, soon, a line formed, and everyone wanted to dance with you.

Your mother turned to Paul and his family.

"One of our oldest traditions. Everyone gets the chance to dance with the bride in exchange for a coin. It is why we call it 'the bride is for sale'. "

"Isn't it a bit...degrading?" asked Lady Jessica.

"Oh! Not at all! If anything we quite like it! The money collected usually goes to the newly-wedded couple so they could start their own lives together. Usually, in cases of royal weddings we give the collected money to charity or people in need." your mother said.

You smiled as a young little girl put a coin into the bowl as she made her way over to you, wanting to dance with you.

Thankfully, you were prepared for people of all ages. As you should be.

"I do hope the Duke would also take his chance and dance with my daughter." smiled your mother as your father joined the now slightly shorter queue of people. 

"Should I?" asked the Duke and your mother nodded quickly.

"Only if you wish to. Once everyone had their turn, Paul should be the last, to end the dance." your mother said and Paul nodded.

Paul watched as you danced with your father, a smile adoring your face since you began. Then, the line ended but the music didn't stop, you quickly moved to drink some water before you heard another coin hit the now, almost full bowl, turning you saw the Duke himself standing there.

You smiled as you quickly made your way to him.

"I wish for a slower dance if I may. I am not as young as I once was." he said as he reached out for your hand.

"You will be fine." you said pulling him with you and he laughed.

You dared to defy the Duke himself as he quickly moved on the dance floor. Not letting him down as the music reached his end.

"Thank you." you told him as you did to everyone else, soon everyone was sitting while you were slowly moving alone on the dancefloor.

Your mother told you, when the time comes, she will send over Paul.

Paul slowly stood up, making sure everyone had their turn before walking towards you. 

As soon as he arrived close to you, you turned as you motioned for the band. The music changed as you two danced. First, it was a quicker pace as everyone around you cheered. Then a slower song was playing as you just swayed in his arms, people soon joining you. 

"You look beautiful in this dress." he said and you barely heard him over the people and the music.

"Thank you. I hoped you would enjoy it."

"I do. Seeing you dance and have fun, it made me happy."

"Paul..."

"I hope you don't have any more traditions that you are hiding from me." he smiled and you smirked.

"I have just one, but I'm sure you are also familiar with that one." Paul laughed, understanding your hint.

He always knew he would be in an arranged marriage, with his title, it was a given. However, you were a true gift. Something he didn't expect is that he actually really enjoyed being with you.

He could see himself in a very happy marriage with you. And with another feather light kiss to your lips, it was his promise sealed. 

His promise of happiness and joy.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​​ @greenarrowhead​​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ @sincerelyfan​​ @theoneanna​​ @aestheticsandmarvel​​ @rororo06​​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​​ @alwayshave-faith​​ @alex12948​​ @lxdyred​​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @praline357​​ @trshngyn​​ @avengers-r-us​​ @violet-19999​​ @top1bbgloak​​  @manduse​​​  @jacalineiscomingforyou​​  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARIZE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[dragon-kazansky]

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Two - Take my hand

☆☆☆

It was starting to get light outside. Alex had left you locked in your room all night. You could hear voices outside your door, but you didn't care to even try and listen in.

Since your father died, Alex had become a stranger to you. He was nothing like the boy you once knew.

You're not sure exactly how much time had passed. You had resulted in laying on your bedroom floor listening to the mumbled voices and the footsteps, as well as thinking about the man in the basement.

The way he looked at you. It was like he knew you. The man from your dreams...

You hadn't fallen asleep at all, so you had no idea if you were still able to dream of him. You wanted to know why you were dreaming of him.

There was so much you didn't understand.

Eventually, the door to your room opened. You looked up with tired eyes to see Alex coming into the room. You summoned what energy you had to push yourself up into a sitting position.

Alex closed the door behind him and leant against it. He looked down at you with an expression you couldn't read. You could see his frown clearly, though.

"Come to scold me?" You ask quietly.

Alex doesn't say anything for a while. He just stares at you. He then lets out a huge sigh.

"You shouldn't have gone down there."

"Who is he?" You ask.

Alex stares at you.

"Who is he?" You ask again, demanding an answer.

"Some kind of Dream Lord."

"Dream Lord?" You look at him curiously. You can tell Alex doesn't want to answer. "Why is he trapped in out basement?"

"Because father failed to trap Death. They're siblings or something... Look, I don't know the details, but we can't let him out. He could hurt everyone."

"Hurt everyone? I assume he'll only hurt those who have kept him prisoner. He didn't look like he wanted to hurt me."

"He couldn't. There's a difference. He needs to stay down there." Alex speaks firmly.

"Who put you in charge?" You ask, glading at him.

Alex clenches his jaw and pushes off the door. He grabs the doorknob and looks at you again. "Do not ever go down there again."

He leaves you alone once more.

☆☆☆

Security in the house doubled. The basement was never unattended. Any time you moved around the house, you were constantly being watched. You were never able to get down into the basement again.

Something had changed in you.

Alex had gone mad with anger when he realised.

You had stopped aging.

While everyone else in the house grew older as the years began to pass, you didn't. By your 30th birthday, you had stopped ageing. Alex had gone down into the basement one night and demanded to know what the Dream Lord had done to you.

Morpheus never uttered a word to him.

That angered Alex even more.

"You will never get out of here."

Morpheus watched him go in silence. Angry didn't quite cover how he felt. He was already planning his revenge for being trapped so long, but if you've been hurt in process too, Dream had no intention of showing mercy.

☆☆☆

Too much time had passed, and you hadn't aged a day. Alex couldn't stand it. He was getting old. He now looked much older than you. It wasn't normal.

Alex had celebrated his 70th birthday party.

You had not been permitted to attend, not that you would have wanted to if you had. Alex had kept you locked in his room. Only he and Paul could enter your room.

He didn't want anyone to see you.

You weren't even allowed into the garden. The most fresh air you got was through your window, which only opened a little bit. Your life had been the worst it had ever been.

Still, every night, you dreamt of the Dream Lord. However, the dreams had changed slightly. It felt like he was looking right at you in them now. Like he could see you.

Many mornings, you have woken up, heart racing.

If he was a dream lord, then surely could sense your dreams. Him being trapped is what made dreaming so rare.

You look down at the scar on your wrist. It healed itself, but every so often, you could feel the burn. When it bothered you, you would cover it gently and press down on it. The burning would subside. You were certain it had something to do with him and that he could feel you through it... Or you could just be making things up to cope with the fact you were also a prisoner in this house now.

Alex stares at your door. Paul had been pushing him in his wheelchair toward the basement when he asked to stop a moment. Very few people knew of you and your "condition," as Alex called it.

He was going to go down into that basement one final time. He swore this would be the last time. He was going to attempt to bargain with the thing down there again.

Alex refused to acknowledge him as anything other than a thing. Not after everything that's happened in this house.

Rodrick, Ethel, you.

"Let's go." He says firmly. Paul pushes him the rest of the way to the basement. Alex had checked his pocket for the key to your room. It was there. Good.

You could hear them leave through your door. You wait until it goes quiet, and then you hear another set of footsteps. You smile. You knew Alex was going down to visit the man from your dreams again.

Alex underestimated you, or perhaps he was just neglectful in his old age. Despite being confined to your room, you could hear an awful lot. Be it from conversations taking place just beyond your door or words spoken in the garden within earshot of your open window.

He also underestimated some of his guards. How easy they were to bribe. As long as they got paid, they would do anything. The master key to the house was kept in the office. Alex never locked the office. His first mistake. His second was giving the guards access to the entire house. The third was thinking you were harmless in your room.

A trade. Money, which you still had access to, for the key to your room.

That exact key slid under your door, and you slide the money through. You hear the guard walk away, and you pick up the key.

You're careful as you unlock the door and poke your head out. Just because some of the staff can be bribed doesn't mean that some aren't loyal to Alex.

Some of them pitied the woman Alex kept locked away in her room.

Down in the basement, Alex stared at the strange man who had been down here since he was a boy. This was the last time he would come down here.

"I could have asked you for wealth or power, like my father did. But all I ever wanted was for my sister and I to be free of you."

Dream stated at him silently.

"Surely you want that too."

Dream remains silent. All he can think about is what he would do if he could get out. How can he get to you? You deserve better than this family.

"Alex, darling, please." Paul pleads.

Alex sits back down in his wheelchair, but before he lets Paul take him away, he turns back to Dream. Morpheus only follows his movements with his eyes.

"She stopped ageing. That was your doing, right? That day my sister came down here, you did something, didn't you?"

Dream does not reply per usual, but his brows do crease together slightly.

"Leave her alone. That's all I ask of you now. I won't be coming down here again."

The circle that kept Dream trapped had been broken by the wheel of the wheelchair. Paul glanced at it but said nothing. The two men left.

You waited for the opportunity. You would need to wait for Alex to go to bed before you went anywhere. There was also the issue of the guards down in the basement.

You hadn't thought that far ahead, but yo were determined to see that man again. You had questions that you couldn't wait to ask anymore. Alex wasn't going to answer them, so you had to ask him.

You didn't have much time to come up with a plan, but as it would turn out, you wouldn't need one. Not exactly.

Alex had gone to bed. You were certain of it. With your key in hand, you unlocked your door and poked your head out. You heard foot disappearing at the end of the hall but saw no one else. You step out and close your door behind you.

You're about to make your way down the hall when the sound of gunshots echoes from the basement. The sound is so loud that you're certain everyone can hear it.

You hear voices behind you and run for it, putting in the code for the door you had memorised and disappear down into the basement. You come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.

One guard had his gun raised at the sphere, which had now shattered. The other guard was trying to calm the other, but she soon stopped when the man inside the sphere stepped out.

He was tall. Very slender. Pale. Handsome.

His eyes had locked onto yours. You felt like the air had once again been stolen from your lungs. You stare at him as a portal opens up beside him.

You're afraid.

He stands there, harsh wind whipping at him from the portal, his hand raised out toward you. He doesn't utter a single word, but you understand.

You don't, can't, move.

He lowers his hand and turns to the portal. He leaves.

You gasp softly, finding yourself able to breathe again. Whatever power he seems to have over you, it feels almost suffocating. You doubt you'll see him again, but your scar burns and you have to wonder.

☆☆☆

You had retreated back to your room before anyone realised who you were or what you were doing down there. You had been unable to sleep.

The house has been the most awake you have ever heard it. Paul had called loudly for a doctor. Guards had been running back and forth constantly through early hours of the morning.

You had kept to yourself in your room. By the time the sun came up, your door was unlocked and opened. Paul was standing in your doorway. You sat up on your bed and looked at him.

He had definitely looked better.

"He's gone."

You stare at him. "Who?"

You knew who.

"The man. He's gone. Alex is... he won't wake up..."

You feel something heavy in your stomach. Alex wouldn't wake up? That sounded like that sickness people had. Did the man do that?

"I... I know what to do."

You let the silence hang between you both. What could you say? You used to like Alex when you were children, but after Rodrick died, he became just the same.

"Look, I know you didn't like him for keeping you locked up in here, but look at you. You're not... normal. The man did something to you."

"He didn't do anything," you defended him. Despite knowing nothing about him, you chose to defend him.

"He must have. Can you even die...? Something happened to you. Magic, or something."

You scoffed.

"I'm not going to ask you to leave. You can stay here. I won't even lock the door anymore."

"How kind of you," you say dryly.

Paul realised this wasn't going anywhere. He had told you what happened and that was it. Paul closes the door behind him but doesn't lock it. He leaves you alone.

You let go of your tough front and feel the tears fall gently. You wipe at your cheeks and curl up on your bed.

Now, what are you supposed to do? You have nowhere else to go. No one to rely on. Not even your dream man.

You were alone.

☆☆☆

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@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 -

[afewfantasies]

🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️ - IX - DESTINY

MASTERLIST

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.3K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: After a tumultuous time Feyd and the reader set aside time to spend quality time with each other. Feyd's obsession for the Lady is alive and well. He makes good on his promises and their new life comes into clear view as Paul Atriedes makes his objectives known.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: NSFW, adult themes, sexual-content, sexual intercourse & oral, violence, mentions of blood & murder. This part is not aligned with cannon of Dune. I have taken several artistic liberties and there are inaccuracies.

_______

DESTINY

Dim lights illuminate in the bed chamber waking you slightly. You stir and settle at the feel of Feyds arms around you, his body against yours. Turning slowly you adjust to face him. There he lays fast asleep, you take in the subtleties of his features, his hairless brow bone, dark eyes and full lips. You close your eyes again, breathing him in. Never could you have imagined anything like this in your wildest dreams. Utterly at peace and relieved to be in the bed of Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. He had made several things clear to his people upon your return. Chief among them that you were no longer his intended.  He’d taken the ceremonial blade cutting you as was the custom of your people. He procured tiny vials as he squeezed his blood into it.  You did the same watching the droplets fill the tiny containers placed on strings and then around your neck. Then there was a Harkonnen ceremony full of drumming and chants. The seamstresses had created the most beautiful black town for the occasion. It hadn’t been the ceremony a Harkonnen na-Baron was owed but it was enough. All Feyd cared was that you were his under all the laws and customs of gods and men. He would give you whatever you pleased when the conflict was over. There’d been so many happy tears. He’d held your hand, giving you caring glances, there were longing looks and tender kisses as he balanced his duty and honour to you and the imperium. 

Feyd had planned for the wedding to go differently. He intended for it to be a grand celebration. He wanted his ascent in society to be aligned with yours, he didn’t want anyone to see you without him and vice versa. War had been fleeting and he knew he wanted everyone to know the cost of an attempt on your life. He wanted everyone to know you carried his blood and that the union was sanctioned and validated by all the laws. There could be no further attempts to sway him with others or to undermine you with he talks of you being a concubine. Now he could punish all who aimed to harm you lawfully, not that anything else would have stopped him. Looking down you run your hand along the vial sitting between your breasts on your sternum. You look to see the black jewellery contrasting against Feyd’s stark white skin. The vial of blood rich and vibrant just above his navel where you remember your father’s falling.

Feyd had brought you here after the ceremonies. An experimental garden oasis full of rich green foliage and colourful flowers. It reminds you so much of home. In your heart you know there can be no one else from now until death. Feyd had kept you with him in his heart from the time he’d held you so delicately as a babe. He’d imbued tiny figments of his life with things he thought you would desire, inevitably preparing for the moment you would be his. Your home had been destroyed and so he valued the projects that prioritised botanical revivals. When life had robbed him of you he was determined and had sought you out  relentlessly. Feyd-Rautha had dedicated himself to you in ways you could hardly conceive of but found yourself growing to understand with the passage of time and every grand gesture. It was overwhelming to experience the culmination of his efforts and a taste of peace. It’s all you want. 

Forever.

Tilting your head down you kiss his full lips remembering the previous night night. After the oasis your smile was a permanent fixture until Feyd replaced it with love faces from the culmination of physical and emotional pleasure. Two people had never been more committed to passion than the two of you had been in the consummation of your marriage. It had been perfect, the perfect night. Feyd stirs reaching for your leg and lifting it over his hip as you both lay on your sides.  He pulls you in with closed eyes, you can no longer make out his expression but his breathing changes and his body warms. His fingers open, splaying over the flesh of your back sliding down onto the naked flesh of your bottom. He squeezes tight, pushing your centre closer to his. You feel the inevitable ache of needing him as he begins to grow. His body heats even more and your nipples pebble against his chest, it’s what he does to you. Declarations of love seem inconsequential, and words are too flimsy for what you feel, for the power and fulfilment you now feel in life. To what you’ve overcome, for the optimism you feel, for the future you know is destined for you and Feyd.

Love.

Feyd slides in without warning kissing and sucking on your neck. Your moans are Feyd’s favourite music. The slickness of your arousal is all the affirmation he needs, your body reacts to him like no other, sucking him in, gripping him, massaging his manhood with every stroke. Nothing was a close second to the pleasure he feels inside your walls. Nothing could have prepared him for the moment he now found himself in. The moment in time where your desire for him was beginning to become as feverish as Feyd’s for you. 

He goes deeper, revelling in the feeling of you.

The tension knitted between your brows

The fullness of your lips as they purse before a moan escapes them.

The arch of your back deepens as he finds new depths.

Your synastry is perfect.

 He nearly comes prematurely at the thought of how you took all of him in your mouth last night while enjoying the feeling of your body sucking him in, here, now, in the present. How he found himself down your throat making you gag. How you were determined to get him to climax. The love and desire in your eyes as he emptied his love for you all over your mouth and chest. How you wore it like a badge of honour. He’d been stunned stiff by the memory and his current state, unable to decide whether he enjoyed your hellishness or angelic demeanour more. You were a Harkonnen now, revelling in the depths of desire without restraint. You clench around him bringing him back to the moment and his head goes blank, white slates his vision as his senses take over. 

Autopilot.

 His body knows yours well rolling you onto your back he places one hand on your hip propping himself up over you slightly with the other. He slides in all the way until your moans take another quality. Sliding out from his haze, Feyd takes stock of the situation looking into your eyes. Instinct takes over. He can tell by your expression you're close, it's better than his dreams.

“More” you whisper, determined to take all of him. You need all of him.

“More?” He questions kissing you slowly sliding in deeper as he stretches you out. 

“Feyyyyyd” you moan as he finds a new rhythm, sliding in and out of you. It’s the perfect torture for your seemingly insatiable desire for him. You break his kiss trying to get air into your lungs as Feyd loses himself in the moment. A few more strokes and you feel his sweet heat flow deep inside of you. His groans mix with your moans. You feel Feyd’s breathing grow shallow and rugged over top of you and kiss his chin once he’s regained his breath. His lips find yours and the kiss you share is perfect. A love match. You love him with everything in you. It’s the greatest gift your parents could have ever left you with. Feyd rolls you both onto your sides without pulling out. You enjoy the feeling of welcoming the extended connection of his manhood inside of you. Your hand goes to your stomach thinking of the life you intend to give your child and his hand covers yours.

“Anything” he asserts. “Anything, always” he says and you kiss him again wrapping your arms around him. You know outside of your bedchambers the world that awaits knows little of peace and love. His hands pull you in even closer, needing you at his side always. “You hear me? Anything” Feyd says, forcing you to look up at him. His words are a declaration to your personal vows. 

“Anything” you repeat in affirmation. Feyd separates from your body, sliding out and robbing you of his contact. His eyes drink your body in; all of your favourite features are his too and he finds all parts of you beautiful that you under appreciate. He’s never been more content with a decision than the one to seek you out and honour the covenant that had been made without his agreement. Finally, the legacy of House Harkonnen was in good hands. Your sons would know love and combat and your daughters would have the freedom granted by a father who would go far and wide for them. You sit up slowly as Feyd does the same taking you to the bathing chambers. You're in the midst of your morning rituals when you feel the ground shaking beneath you. There are violent tremors and you hear incessant beeping. Your breath catches as keys begin pressing buttons on the bathroom console.

“We’re safe” he says, wrapping a towel around his waist and leaving. You finish up slowly putting on one of the many opulent creations of the seamstresses from Giedi Prime. When you emerge you find Feyd dressing in his war armour. Frowning your breath hitches the you see visuals of Arrakeen on the screen being projected. You see the Baron’s ship as well as the emperors. Fear overwhelms you until you hear the familiar voice of Gurney. You take a breath when you hear Paul Atriedes has taken Arakeen in your absence. Your delirium is interrupted by the views of Feyd panning out to see the destruction of the walls. You know before Feyd utters the words Paul has used the weapons of his house to get this done. Feyd grows angry, you knit your fingers through the necklace he placed on you.

“The Emperor and the Baron are captured, our absence has saved us,” you share your thoughts aloud drawing Feyd’s attention from the screen back to you. “Im safe” you add cluing Feyd back to what’s important. He releases a reluctant breath before kissing you again. On his list of important things your safety is at the top of them. A battle had been being waged all the while he was making love to you, perfectly content and unaware. A frantic knock sounds and you hear Leia reaching out in a panic telekinetically. Stepping back from Feyd you open the door. Feyd watches relief wash over your dearest friend when she sees you’re alright.

“My Lord the Fremen have taken the palace” A guard says from behind Leia. 

“A moment Leia” you smile stepping back she smiles as you press the button to close the door to your bed champers.

“Feyd, please consider what I am to say as a valued advisor and not your as your wife” you sigh looking at your hands.

“That’s impossible” he mutters as a man of practicality. You smile amused by the disdain for your proposal in his expression. He sits open to listen nonetheless. You can't help but admire him.

“Paul was like family for a very long time, I do believe he can be reasoned with.” you suggest.

“He has no love for House Harkonnen” Feyd responds.

“Nor do I but you are my blood, my husband, the father of our child. Paul too will be a father soon. Perhaps we can find means to a mutually amicable solution. Paul will not hurt me, Leto loved my mother and he loved me.” You explain.

“Hearing the love another man bears for you doest inspire my cooperation” Feyd says, jealous of the assurance in your tone. The trust you have in other men.

“Anything” you remind him of his promise and he groans in protest. Smiling as you sit across his lap. “I’d like to enjoy this honeymoon. And give birth in comfort with you near and at ease. All the while we find creative cruelties for the Baron’s torture and inevitable death. That’s what I desire as a wedding gift. The Baron in our custody and an end to the Atreides war.” You say succinctly. Looking in your eyes Feyd sees a hint of darkness within you, a darkness and a vengeance he knows all too well. He could feel his desire growing in his loins, his temperature rising again as his lust for you grows. His hands fasten against your legs pulling you in closer. There was no time to be wasted; he'd spent too much time away from you, then searching for you, then waiting for you to feel the same, then tip-toeing around the Baron, then angering you, and having you taken from him.

“I bear neither the Baron nor the Atreides any fondness, all my kindness and compassion begins and ends with you and ours” he says, placing a hand against your stomach.

“Think of the distance war will take place between us, think of the battles, the stress, the strife - Feyd I’ve lived through it. Allow me an attempt at brokering peace” you plead searching his eyes. Watching you, Feyd's pride falls. It’s foresight he’d yet to employ. Battles took time and in your condition you would only need him more and more. You’d endured far too much already and stopping further strife would be beneficial to all of you. You rise taking a step back away from him with a smirk, even a moment is too much standing Feyd crowds your space. Peering deep into your eyes he’s at a loss for words, the magnetism for you goes haywire, balls of untenable electricity flowing dangerously. You were his now, in every way a person could belong to another.

“Let this be the last time we discuss the future of other men” he says, willing to concede.

“What if we have sons?” You ask, placing a hand over his chest. The intensity in Feyd’s eyes lessen. His anger subsides and his tight lipped look fades into a soft smile. The thought of sons brings him much excitement.

“With the exceptions of our sons” he rasps ready to practice the act of child conception.

“Ok, if Paul will listen we will do things my way. If he doesn’t you’re free to have at it?” You reason and Feyd smiles broadly, fully amused with your bargaining. Bending slightly he takes up the hem of your dress running a hand up your thigh.

“What do I get for my compliance?” He asks with only one thing on his mind.

“One fantasy” you concede holding up a single digit.

“Deal” Feyd agrees, putting a pin in it for later.

_________________

Heads rise as you walk through the crowd of armed men, you are sorely outnumbered but your eyes make out a few Fremen you recall as you enter the palace's great room. You see the head of the Bene Gesserits clustered into a round with the Emperor, his daughter, the Baron and other important figures. The Baron’s eyes narrow in contempt at the sight of you. You realize by the emperor’s fixed gaze on Feyd Rautha he is acutely unaware of who you are. They all watch in question as Feyd adjusts his pace and stance all in the preservation of your own well being instead of his uncle's protection. You find Chani’s eyes among the Fremen looking at you and feel the connection to her again. Turning you see Lady Rebecca your heart smiles, although she was strange she’d always been kind to you. She wears a knowing expression and a smile in her eyes. You turn to Paul and find him already having a stare down with Feyd. The two men are titans in their own right but marionettes in the same circus show. Turning you look to the masters of the current galaxy, those currently responsible for all of the disarray at hand. There’s no room for enmity with Paul. You remove your face covering and his eyes soften.

“A word?” You ask Paul. Nodding the motions for you to follow up a flight of stairs. Feyd holds you back as you do. Turning to Feyd-Rautha you give him a pleading look. A deep growl sounds as he lets go, allowing you the privacy of a few feet.

“You should stay away from Feyd-Rautha” Paul warns with the tone of a friend.

“He is my choice, my happiness” you respond.

“If you know what’s good for you, stop looking at her in the eyes like that” Feyd warns, stepping forward. A gasp ripples through the room. Feyd’s eyes go from Paul to you, the noise he makes is animalistic and laced with dissatisfaction. 

“That girl is academy property” Mother Mohaim shouts. Feyd grabs a blade, throwing it with great force, catching the old woman in her neck. Shrieks ripple through the room as guards rush Feyd who had been stripped of his weapons. The woman falls but there only seems to be relief from Paul who has Feyd released.

“No she is not!” Lady Jessica snaps, standing on your behalf and silencing the chaos. She reads your titles aloud and you watch as the Emperor seems confused by the revelations at hand. The reverend mother fights a losing battle. Lady Jessica seems callously unbothered by her death.

“Mother has decided, as have I, that you deserve peace, even may it be with my cousin” Paul says, causing you to gasp.

“Cousin is it?” Feyd asks, stepping up to you and Paul. 

“Yes” Paul asserts and Feyd looks over his shoulder at the Baron. He’d heard whispers of the Bene Gesserit taking advantage of the Baron and the Baron in turn seeking revenge. It was whispered his current predicament, his size, his aches and boils were the result of the Bene Gesserit fighting back.

“Hmm” Feyd nods more convinced than ever that there was absolutely no way the Baron could maintain Giedi Prime.

“We can treat later, the Baron is yours for now and the emperor is mine” Paul agrees. Feyd nods looking at you with a deep grin. His lips find yours publicly gasps and whispers begin as he kisses you for all the authority figures of the imperium to see. When he’s finished he steadies you with an arm pushing you behind him.

“I would like to warn those among us, as well as above us, to honour my wife as a Baroness, and as the eldest of a great house. She is a newlywed, an absence of congratulations will be taken with hostility” Feyd says loud enough for the room to hear. The Baron knows better than to interject. The Emperor nods reluctantly after Paul bows his head in acknowledgement. Feyd keeps you close during entire transition of power. Paul seems well placed in the position of power, an astute student and competent general. Feyd sits disinterested with the political game interjecting every time the Baron tries to assert his position as the leader of Giedi Prime. Paul has them all on the ropes and with Feyd on his side it seems a matter of young versus old. The sun has set on the old guard. Even the Bene Gesserit are no match against whatever Pauls has evolved into. When it’s over the Reverend Mother is lifeless as is the Emperor and the Baron is in chains.

You leave the warring to the men. Your comprehension of loss and revenge is clear, no amount of retribution can dam the rivers of sorrow caused by the loss of your parents. You're sitting with Leia on the ship when Lady Jessica emerges with tribal markings of the Fremen on her face, she looks gravely different from the woman in your memories. She hugs you tights, emanating more warmth than you remember before she sits with you.

“The Baron was jealous of your mother, he was in love with your father. It was unrequited and the reason for the rebellion.” Jessica says and in your heart you know it’s true. Breathing through the anguish you know why your spirit never settled with the Baron, he’d been the reason for all of your anguish.

“Is she alive? Feyd said he got her out?” You ask Jessica.

“She came to us, I believe she is in one of the outer systems if she still lives. With you at the Academy she thought you would be safe. Her ancestral seat on the council for Caladan is yours.”

“I thought you didn’t like my mother,” you whisper.

“I didn’t but it was unfounded. After Leto’s assignation and what we’ve endured, I now know the value of friendship. You’ve always had a good heart, your union will be fruitful and strong forever” she says with an omniscient wisdom. Nodding you look into her large eyes. “Spare Vladimir Harkonnen no cruelty” she says. It's a promise you can keep.

“For my parents and for Leto” you respond, and she nods seemingly vindicated. Lady Jessica leaves within the hour and you exhale the overwhelm. It’s a Birds Eye view into the life you lost as a child. As a daughter of noble standing this politicking and treating would have been your everyday life and responsibilities. Turning to Leia you sigh, shaking your head and she gives you a hug.

“Your mother will find you, news will travel, people will talk” she says hopefully and you nod looking at her as a Fremen guard enters. He bows respectfully before standing at attention.

“How may I help you?” You ask uneasily.

“Feyd-Rautha and Muad'dib are at odds” he says, causing you to stand. It could be another trap so you tread lightly. Following the man back to the great hall you see Feyd holding a knife as is Paul. Your eyes fall on the Princess in an ornate chained veil. This is all no doubt her doing as a highly trained member of the sisterhood. You look at Chani and see great pain in her eyes.

“Enough” you snap, gaining the attention of both men. 

“It’s a friendly sparing” Feyd lies. You smile looking at Paul who is inept in the treacherous ways of your beloved. There would be nothing friendly about the beating Feyd would try to employ to assert dominance.

“Feyd, I’ve been given information I want to speak to you about,'' you turn to him. His eyes avert from Paul slowly. He wanted to see what the legendary Fremen prophet Paul Atreides was made of. Footsteps draw your attention and you turn to see Chani.

“Dull blades for friendly sparring” She says looking at Paul and then you. 

“Thank you, but these will not be necessary. We must take our leave. Thank you Chani” you smile reaching for her hands. She looks at you skeptically before obliging you to pull her into a hug.

“Irulan has Bene Gesserit gifts, if you desire peace she must be taken care of” you whisper, pulling away. Chani’s eyes hold yours in affirmation and she nods. “Should you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask” you extend her friendship and kindness.

‘Should you-“ Chani starts.

“My wife won’t require anything, the Lady is well cared for by me” Feyd interjects, unable to quell his jealousy. Instead of chastising him you give Chani an apologetic smile. She gives you a nod of understanding. You give Feyd an admonishing look as you clear the hall once again only now it’s been virtually emptied. He stands at your side brimming with tension that needs to be unleashed. Feyd loved nothing more than a good battle. He’d missed an opportunity at fighting and missed an opportunity to make an impression.

“That wasn’t nice” you mutter.

“Nor am I” Feyd responds with indifference. Looking up at Feyd you see there’s no room for reason so you leave it alone thinking of Lady Jessica’s words and how to reveal them to him. Feyd stands tall at your side watching eyes fall on you. He wanted to blind all the men that looked a second too long. You were his and only his. Outsiders didn’t typically stare at Harkonnen women. Usually there were looks of awe, curiosity and fear. That wasn’t what he saw in their eyes; admiration, attraction and curiosity were the emotions he could read. Closing his large hand over yours he draws you in closer possessively, Feyd-Rautha seldom shares the spotlight.

“Your Grace, '' a man smiles, stepping out of line. He’s among the imperial guests, his eyes are familiar but the glaring scar across his face isn’t. “Y/N it’s me Thom, I am pleased to see you alive and well” he smiles, bowing out of genuine happiness. You squeeze Feyd’s hand before responding to the man who had been your fathers cup bearer as a boy, the son of your fathers best guard.

“Thom” you smile stepping in front of Feyd. “My Husband Baron Feyd-Rautha, Feyd this was my father’s cup bearer” you explain and his body relaxes a touch looking at the man with the grotesque scar. He could tell by the nature of the scare exactly which blade had etched that cut. You look up at Feyd and he nods ever so slightly in recognition.

“I’m happy you survived, I have a few heirlooms I’ve held on to waiting for this day” he whispers. “I will have them sent to Giedi Prime once we are cleared to travel” 

“Thank you” you smile feeling emotional.

“Thank you” Feyd speaks, finally looking the man in his eyes. Thom’s eyes are teary as he smiles along with you. Feyd takes steps first waking you away. You fall into step with him getting more of the same greetings, well wishes and respectful acknowledgements. Feyd watches as people are drawn to you, your beauty, aura and standing. It was something he was yet to fully consider. You were a noble woman in your own right unlike the pets who lived and breathed for his pleasure. Your name meant something without his across the imperium. You held more planetary allies than enemies and the situation was far different from the one of cold maneuvers that he’d lived through as a Harkonnen. People would come from near and far now that Paul Atreides was emperor. A surge of jealousy courses through Feyd as you enter your ship. He watches you closely as you pour yourself a glass of water and begin to unwind from the long day. Feyd-Rautha never considered he would ever have to share you in any way. No part of him wanted to, in the same way you don’t want to share him with the galaxy.

“Feyd? Can you unzip me?” You ask, snapping him out of his daze. His hands find your dress's zipper before he pulls it down delicately. Your dress separates down your back revealing bare skin Feyd’s eyes feast on. You hold your dress against your body with folded arms under your breasts as a force of habit.

“Let it fall” Feyd rasps and you look up into the mirror at the same moment he does too. Releasing your arms the dress falls crumpling into a pile at your feet leaving your breasts bare. A hand on your waist guides you from the mirror to the back of a couch. Feyd releases his hand, taking his mother to cup your breast as you stand in front of him. He holds you with one taking the necklace and placing the vile to sit on your back in his sights.

“What’s your fantasy?” you ask, feeling the shift in his energy as he kisses your neck.

“Most of them aren’t safe for our child” he says holding your stomach with pride. His mind is teeming with possibilities. The looks from everyone burrowing deeper and deeper under his skin. He could see how they weren’t wondering what you were doing with him, doubting your happiness, probably thinking you’re with him wholly against your will playing a role for survival. There was an understanding for why he wanted you but Feyd didn’t feel that mutual respect. The respect he’d earned in the fighting pit and as a warrior made him ill suited as a husband or family man in the minds of his contemporaries. Typically the opinions of others meant little to him but his feelings were different now, he needed everyone to know how capable he was at being an excellent husband to you. Placing kisse down your spine, an  idea settles into his consciousness Feyd feels himself hardening. He bends you over the back of the couch, slapping your ass so hard it leaves a sting he kisses away in moments. The mix of pain and pleasure causes your body to heat, your center creams greedily. You know you can’t take another round of Feyd as much as you want him. 

“Since you don’t want me in the arena, I’ll invite everyone to Giedi Prime for my ceremony” Feyd whispers gently, rubbing the soreness away. You turn to face him finally once it feels better and his eyes are sex drunk. You can see whatever thoughts are rolling around in his head are getting him off.  You sink to your knees to be a loving partner in other ways. He assists you by freeing his dick from his pants, it bounces free to meet your lips. 

“For the ceremony I'll make sure the Baron sees us take his position before he dies. Before we come out I'll rig up my dressing room with listening devices” Feyd says as you kiss his tip looking up at him like you’ve learned he likes. Smiling his arousal grows at the feeling of your mouth around him. Grabbing your hair he goes deep slowly, its pure pleasure but to him your pussy is still second to none. 

“Rig it up with audio as the audience waits for us,” Feyd says through measured speech. The visuals of the entire planet and distinguished guests' play in his mind. “Then, I’m going to fuck you like never before so the planet and every important dignitary knows how much I enjoy my wife and how much she enjoys me” Feys days through gritted black teeth.

 It’s so hot you're covered in goosebumps.

Your body set a blaze by his words

By his desires, and their illicit nature.

 You suck harder and deeper imagining Feyd giving you his best and what that would sound like to the world. The thoughts leave you just as wild. Feyd waits for an objection but none come. Your eyes find his mutual desire pools in your orbs, your energy matching his. Your willingness to please him takes Feyd over the edge as he strains to keep his eyes open. Your inherent talent is incredible, you suck him so good he sees stars. When Feyd is on the edge he takes your head guiding himself in as far as you can take a few times before his climax takes him.

His rugged breathing settles before color and sense is restored within his consciousness. Looking down he finds you covered in his black arousal with a glistening mouth and more of it on your chest and the necklace with the vile. He takes a mental picture of you sullied on your knees. What he feels for you grows more dangerous by the moment. He thought you made him crazy when he was on the hunt for you, lucky for him a lifetime of sustained desire for you is his destiny.

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Thanks so much for reading, it feels good to be back. Let me know what you think about this update. How do we like husband Feyd and all his possessive jealousy? Like, comment and reblog.

PS: If you're thinking "what about the Baron". He will be dealt with on the page in the next part. Hope you enjoyed 🩶

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[ivystoryweaver]

Based on a combined request from @babyprofessorsharkpalace and @dowbastan. The requests were so similar that I wrote this one shot and I hope you both like it!

Summary: You're the childhood love of Duke Leto Atreides. Years have passed and your paths took you different directions. You have one final night before he leaves Caladan for Arrakis.

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides from Dune x f!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: NSFW, mdni, language, fingering, oral - m. rec., p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, nipple play, spitting, not beta'd

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An invitation to Caladan to celebrate House Atreides' appointment to Arrakis was a coveted opportunity, and an honor.

You belonged to a noble family on a neighboring planet, and your family had a history with House Atreides. In fact, you were once pledged to a young Leto Atreides.

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Then...

Long before silver sprinkled his inky curls - before his father passed on the title of Duke - the handsome first son of Caladan was your intended.

This resulted in multiple visits to Caladan during your childhood, in which you actually befriended young Leto. The two of you remained unaware of your families' intentions for years. You played along the wet, craggy rocks and numerous caves of Caladan, and the sprawling gardens of your homeworld.

When you came of age, plans were made to announce your engagement officially. This was the first you'd ever heard of it. You visited Caladan once again with your parents, eager to see your dear friend Leto.

You were both still so young - you even more so than he. You and Leto stole away to your usual childhood spots, laughing and catching up, but this time, once you reached your favorite cave, he gathered you into his arms.

"We're to be married," he whispered, gazing adoringly into your eyes. "Does this please you?"

"Leto," you whispered, with a breathless laugh. "Who else could it ever be but you?"

His strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his body as he lowered his lips to yours.

This was the last happiness you would know with your childhood love.

The Bene Gesserit installed Lady Jessica as a concubine for young Leto.

You understood that many nobles had concubines for companionship, while remaining open to strategic, political marriages. But you assumed you would be Leto's companion, as well as his wife.

Despite your protestations, you might have been forced into the arrangement anyway, except that your parents would have you nowhere near the influence of the Bene Gesserit, if they could help it.

So you didn't see Leto again for years - not until you were married to another powerful man, and Leto had a son and heir, thanks to Lady Jessica.

You had the opportunity to meet them once - young Paul Atreides and his mom. Truthfully, they were lovely and you found yourself wondering why fate had brought a man like Leto to your heart only to yank him away and give him to someone else.

Then your husband passed away. You received a note of condolence from Leto, in his own hand, no less.

'I will always cherish our fond childhood,' it read. 'Please know my sympathy and warm affection are with you always.'

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Now...

So, here you are, these years later, in the home - the castle - of your once intended. A farewell party, to honor House Atreides before they set off to oversee spice production on Arrakis.

Your invitation is nothing special. Hundreds were invited from all over. The chance of you seeing, let alone speaking with the Duke is minuscule. He likely has more important things to do than worry about widowed childhood friends.

The opulence of the occasion enchants even you for a time, but you eventually grow weary of the fake smiles and never-ending condolences. Bored with the evening, and damn near everything in your life, you wander away from the bustle and celebration, through once familiar corridors of Castle Caladan.

Hardly a thing has changed. Few things ever do in these ancient royal dwellings. You find yourself meandering along, just as you did as a child, darting from one lavish room to the next, avoiding the elder duke's stern glare.

Speaking of which...

"If I look at you at just the right angle, it almost seems like we're teenagers again."

The unmistakable voice of Duke Leto Atreides sounds over the faded swirl of orchestra music, drifting from the great hall.

"In complete darkness, maybe," you lightly return, keeping your back turned. "Seeing how I have not walked these halls since the birth of your son."

"A young man nearly grown," Leto evenly responds. "It's been far too long."

The thump of his heavy boots alerts you to his approach. You stiffen as he draws near. You suppose it's time to acknowledge your host in his own home. Before you can, however, he moves in beside you.

Just the scent of him throws you into inner turmoil. The years have been kind to Leto. He wears middle age very well. Distinguished and brutally handsome, he commands respect, despite his shorter stature.

"Too long indeed," you finally respond, longing to turn and gaze into his eyes - to see if any trace of the boy you loved still lingers.

"Let me look at you," he softly commands, boldly cupping your shoulder with his palm.

"Nothing to see." You shrug him off, or attempt to anyway. "Just a lonely widow."

He crowds into your personal space demandingly, grasping both shoulders now. "Am I such a stranger to you that you won't greet me in my own home - or even look at me? Why did you even make the journey?"

Your eyes meet his unflinchingly - a perfect match for his stubbornness. "I came to congratulate you and your family on your appointment to Arrakis. Now that I've done so, I'll take my leave."

He holds you firmly, the heat of his fingers seeping through your sleeve. "Why so soon? I've only just laid eyes on you for the first time in years and you can't even spare me a glance? You might as well condemn me to walk the sands of Arrakis alone."

"Don't be so dramatic, Leto," you mock, attempting to wrench free of his grip. "Everything you need or want is going with you to that desert rock."

"Not everything," he firmly protests, dark eyes boring into yours. His fingers, so insistently gripping your arms, relax and began to trace soothing circles on the soft fabric of your dress.

You huff, rolling your eyes, but your body automatically eases closer to the duke, as if responding to him instinctually.

"Don't pretend I mean anything to you now," you scold him, melting into his embrace, with only your words left to cut him.

"No one in this world means more to me except for my own son," he breathes on your cheek, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you flush against his pristinely uniformed chest.

Your heart stops for a moment as you struggle to breathe. "I think you forgot Lady Jessica," you finally manage. "The Bene Gesserit's strategic installation."

He groans. "She's the mother of my heir."

"All the more reason to leave me be! I've paid my respects. I'm done here. We're done." Your chest heaves dramatically as Leto runs his hands possessively up your back, pulling you desperately close.

"I'll never be done with you," he breathes against your mouth, covering your lips with his own. You want to fight him but the heat of his tongue lures you in, your body wilting into his powerful embrace. His soft beard tickles your face as you liquify in his arms.

Taking advantage of your compliance, he kisses you endlessly, working the elegant skirt of your dress up your legs until it bunches around your waist, giving him access to caress your thighs.

His tongue thrusts hungrily but his fingers touch you softly, tracing your inner thigh, on a determined path to the core of you.

He doesn't ask - he feels your hips shift toward his caress as he strokes you through the flimsy fabric covering your folds.

He wastes no time brushing the material aside to push his knuckles against your wet heat, already slick for him. He surprises you with the brazenness of his touch. His fingers stretch out, separating your slick folds. The pad of his thumb drags demandingly down over your needy bundle of nerves as his fingers work their way into you possessively.

He groans into your mouth as you squelch and clench around him - your hole tight and unused.

You shamelessly moan against his parted, panting mouth, fucking your hips down onto his thick digits, the stretch of even two fingers stuffing you fuller than you've felt in years. His rhythm in and out is the most incredible sensation you've ever experienced in your life.

"This is all for you," he rumbles on your ear, curling his fingertips against the spongy softness inside you, making you shudder with desperate want. "Invited half the galaxy here just so I could be inside you again."

"Leto," you keen, your back arching as a wave of euphoria rolls through you, drenching his fingers with your desire.

You're instantly yanking at the belt of his uniform trousers, panting, somewhat satisfied, but not truly sated. You remember the beautiful, soft, strong body of your first lover. Your husband had no hope of comparing.

As you work him free of his pants, which drop to his knees, you gasp out an eager whine as his cock springs free, stiff and thick and already dripping for you. Without another thought, you're sinking to your knees to swipe your tongue over the proud length of him.

He sucks in a breath and growls out a swear. You can tell you've managed to truly surprise him.

You can't fit him in your mouth - there's no way, so your hands grip his shaft twisting possessively as you open wide and try take him to the back of your throat.

"F-fuck," he hisses, stumbling forward slightly and you gag, drool trickling from the corners of your mouth. Once you get your bearings, you chuckle around him because this man never loses control of any situation.

He's so thick your eyes start to water, but it feels good to have him in your hands again - to have someone want you, crave you, even.

His body is tense and impatient and he grips your chin forcefully, although not painfully, easing his stiff cock out of your mouth. You wonder what's going on, but he doesn't keep you guessing.

"Turn around," he orders, bringing your skirts back up to where they started, around your waist. "Hold this," he commands.

His hands grip your hips underneath your dress and you feel his cock rubbing against your ass as he leans over you the nearest table, his breath falling hot on your ear. He doesn't speak yet, just breathes in and out. You manage to hold your skirt with one hand while bracing yourself with the other.

Unsatisfied with your position, he grumbles out a curse, pushing you so far over that your backside is higher than your head, your body halfway sprawled across the table’s end. Leaning down, he separates your pussy lips with his fingers and spits on your cunt. You let out a whine - your own voice sounding foreign to you. Then you feel the tip of his cock drag through your wet folds, back and forth, before he finally eases in, halting as he feels how impossibly tight you are.

You whimper at the intrusion, your body thrumming with lust. This elegant duke - controlled and noble in every interaction - is grunting, his hips stuttering as he tries to fit his impossibly huge cock into your unused cunt. Your whines and his groans are shamefully loud, echoing off the ancient walls of this corridor, where anyone could find you.

"You'll take all of me before you leave here," he hisses, his fingers finding your clit, circling languidly, while his other hand wraps around your abdomen, holding you in position. He palms your breast through the fabric of your dress and you wish you could feel his skin against yours again.

You almost say as much - beg him, even, but you know these are stolen moments. Hundreds are waiting for him, probably looking for him.

But he's here, inside you. Or half inside, anyway.

"That's it, dove, let me in," he huffs, pushing in more, and more.

Tears prick your eyes because it stings but you need it so badly. "You're so big," you gasp out, "I can't, Leto. Please."

He jerks out of you so fast, you almost topple over, but the strong arm wrapped around you holds you steady. Pulling you up to your feet, he drags you by the hand to the nearest sleeping quarters down the corridor - essentially, the closest room with a door.

Securing the door, he all but rips the bodice of your dress, pawing at you until your breasts spring free. Catching your nipple between his teeth, he tugs, making you hiss out a whine, the pain and pleasure making you weak.

His tongue soothes your sore skin, coaxing your nipple to hardness. Then he suckles you while yanking at your laces and bindings.

You chant his name like a prayer, pushing your fingers into his perfectly kempt curls, twirling them into a mess as he sucks your tits, one at a time. It feels so good you could come again just from this.

But you need to feel him, to have him. This will be your only chance - you're sure of it. Barely managing to give up the sensation of having this perfect man suck your nipples, you push him back and work on the buttons of his uniform jacket. He's way ahead of you, having rid himself of everything from the waist down.

Finally, finally you feel all of him, all these years later.

He pulls you against him, kissing you deeply, gripping your thighs before hoisting them around his waist. Backing up to the bed, he eases down, sitting on the edge with you on top of him.

"Need you to take all of me," he repeats the directive, clutching your hip with one hand, while gripping his cock in the other.

Nodding, you push up onto your knees, letting him drag his tip through your folds, collecting your wetness.

"Fuck me," he commands, squeezing your hip and pushing you downward, fingertips digging into your flesh.

Bracing yourself on his broad, muscular shoulders, you sink onto his tip, breathlessly moaning at how swiftly and easily you feel full.

"More than that. Need more." His jaw is locked in unbearable tension and you feel his cock twitch as he slips deeper inside.

"Kept this cunt tight for me," he rasps, pushing again. "No one can stretch you out like I can."

"Yes," you unabashedly whine, your legs trembling as you try to hold your body up just a little longer, feeling as if he will spear you in half if you sink all the way down.

He leans back a little and uses his fingers to push your pussy lips apart. He wants to watch your squelching cunt split open over his thick cock.

"Look at how you take me," he marvels, licking his lips, using one fingertip to toy with your clit. Your back arches in ecstasy, but you still, you don't sink all the way down.

"Let me in," he snarls, rubbing you rapidly but so featherlight, you teeter on the edge of orgasm. Desperate to come, to please him, to feel all of him, you give in, letting your legs give out as you sink down - the heavy length of him searing you inside.

"Leto, fuck...fuck," you cry - wincing at the sting but reveling in the stretch.

He groans out appreciatively, but his arms quickly wind around you to support your weight and he stills the movement of his hips as you adjust to the full length of him.

"So good for me," he rasps, kissing you again. You melt into the taste of him, threading your fingers through his curls. Your breasts press against the warmth of his chest. He kisses you on and on, his legs twitching with the need to move, to push up, to thrust into your cunt, stuffed full of him.

He almost comes just from the first rock of your hips, finally feeling the friction he needs. He wants to grip your hips and force you down on his cock, over and over, but he's patient, just a little longer. Your hunger for this - for him, is almost as intoxicating as the way you begin to slowly grind your pelvis in a tantalizing, delicious rhythm.

Wanting you to feel as good as he does - needing to feel the clench of your cunt around his cock when you come - prompts him to reach between your bodies again and strum at your oversensitive clit. He meets your rocking with slow, sensual thrusts upward, sucking a mark into your throat as he coaxes you to another delicious climax.

You forget to mind the fact that this spontaneous reunion could technically result in a child. But Leto hasn't forgotten.

"Want to fill you up," he pants, desperation creeping into his thrusts. The initial sting has worn off after two orgasms, and the slick heat between your bodies creates a pleasurable friction for you both.

"Dance with me tonight," he carries on, pulling you against his chest as his thrusts grow more demanding. "You'll feel the ache of me inside you. I want you to feel me leaking out of you. You're mine."

"I belong to no man," you protest, even as your cunt flutters in agreement with him.

Just a few more thrusts and he comes with a groan, spilling deep inside you, his breath heavy on your throat.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold him close, keeping him inside you, reveling in these stolen moments before he disappears from your life. 

Most likely for forever.

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[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The sound of the waves collide // Part Four

So it is time for the last part.... I still cannot believe that I managed to write something and look forward to post more

This chapter is very explicit - for my taste at least.

Song for the chapter - Alkaline by Sleeptoken

English is not my first language

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Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

shameless smut

FxM

All feedback is welcome <3

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

1.695 words

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The encounter with Feyd leaves you so shaken that, come morning, you avoid seeing anyone. It feels childish and less dignified, your mind circling around the memories of the evening like vultures. It's as if he doesn't even need to touch you to make you forget years of training and let your emotions get the best of you. And he visibly enjoys it, your pain and humiliation making it even more luxurious for him. Frustrated and unable to concentrate, you put Irulan's gift away and lie down in a lounge chair on the balcony overlooking the small garden. The sun's rays are softened by the huge trees and reflected in the pond below. Its crystal clear waters appear like a mirror - calm and serene, a painful contrast to your mental state. You close your eyes and try to ground yourself in the moment, repeating the mantra „I am alive in stillness“, but to no avail. The fever that has been ignited within you consumes your mind and body. Your hands seem to develop a life of their own and, as if guided by a puppet master, they find their way to the small band of your tunic. The warm air touches your skin and you close your eyes, letting your fingers slide over your breasts, caressing the nipples that instantly stiffen under your touch. Your hand continues to slide down as your eyes flutter shut. It is almost as if you are picking up where he left off. The heat concentrates under your fingers, and letting your intuition guide you, you move your fingers in circles, dipping in and out of your cunt. The orgasm is so intense that for a second you forget where you are. You can't stop yourself from moaning his name and you feel like coming up for air.

Two days later it is time to say goodbye. Your father kisses you on the forehead and your mother seems to think the same as you - "I will not fear". Letting go of Paul's embrace seems almost impossible, but when all is said and done, you make your way to the Baron's ship. His gigantic form floats in front of you, while your betrothed follows at the same level as you.

Even if he doesn't look at you, you can't help but feel his presence. Each step seems to be part of a well-orchestrated choreography and reminds you of a wild animal, ready to reveal its murderous nature at any moment. At the last glance, you turn your head to see your mothers signing "Good luck" to you with a small flick of her wrist. The connection to what was familiar is tethered and you are not sure of the tumultuous feeling your gut that the now empty space in your soul is son tobe filled with a new home. The change is almost tangible, as if when you pay close enough attention, it glow like a dark halo around you.

Once on the ship, you are left to your own devices. You can call upon servants at any time, but they seem to anticipate your wishes before you know them. Food and drink are brought to you, as well as an army of new clothes. Your favourite is the black dress with heavy beading around the bodice, covering your torso like a shield. Paired with a translucent black veil and a small gold chain around your neck, connected to your torso, it feels appropriate to take your first steps on the planet you will call home.

Your unease is heightened when, upon your arrival, neither Feyd nor the Baron are to be seen. A tall, slender man who introduces himself as Piter de Vries escorts you to the Feeds chambers. You immediately recognise the characteristic traces of spice in his eyes, the only thing that seems to have any colour in this world. Shielded from the harsh black sun, you reach Na Baron's quarters, only to find an army of monochrome grey, white and black surroundings. The palace seems to be the essence of the Harkonnens, with hard, clear lines, yet graceful and spacious.

"If you need anything, there are always two servants at the door," says Piter. The servants resemble guards, but you decide not to share this observation. Piter's eyes linger on the glass box with the fir tree. "Do you want to have a closer look?" You ask. "Only if you don't mind. I have never seen anything like it". "It was a parting gift from my father. On Caladan, fir trees grow as tall as these walls, more of them than you can count. You may take it with you if you promise to return it in one piece tomorrow." Pieter seems to understand your bid for connection and bows his head „I am indebted to you, Na Baroness“ Its the first time some one dresses you with your new title and you barely suppress a shiver. And as if the title was a spell, Feyd Rautha appears in the doorway. Piter bows and leaves at once, holding the precious piece of your home in his hands. He moves so siletly, that you begin to wonder if the planet is not only devoid of color but also of sound. Blood seems to rush to your cheeks as you meet Feyd's gaze. "Is everything to your satisfaction?" His voice echoes. "Yes, thank you, Baron." His arms are behind his back and before you realise why, you see droplets of thick, almost black liquid collecting on the floor behind him. Slowly he unclasps his hands, drops to one knee and holds out a slim silver knife to you, covered in more of the same substance. "Is… is it blood?" You don't know why you question it. "Yes, it is. Please accept this as a token of my devotion to you. It is…" his blue eyes find yours, "the proof that my body will be yours alone. No other being shall touch it."

"Your pets…" you feel almost dizzy as the understanding dawns on you.

"No more pets," he says, still on his knee.

You slowly take the knife and place it on the white table beside you. Some of the blood gets on your wrist. He grabs it and licks it off. While a part of your brain screams that you should be afraid, your body seems to find the spark he struck on Kaitain again. His tongue flicks across the sensitive skin as he rises and begins to undo the buttons on your shoulders, the need to touch him overwhelming you and you reach out with your palm to his cheek. He leans into your touch with more tenderness than you ever expected. But as soon as your dress falls to the floor, pure hunger returns to his eyes. He presses into you and you feel as if your insides have melted on the spot. You try to feel his length through the fabric of his tunic. „So needy, Na Baroness?“ He purrs, enjoying the dominance he has over you. With a swimming motion, he pushes you onto the bed, holding your arms above your head. His tongue descends to your collarbone, moving deeper as he takes one breast in his mouth, sucking the tender flesh. You moan under him, already feeling washed away from any security of a shore into a whirl of need. His tongue continues to drive you mad as he bites you, the pain searing and glorious at the same time. Your hand reaches for him again, but he holds your wrists down as his tongue continues to run between your legs. He looks up at you, and it is the last thing to break the tiny shreds of your resolve. But he doesn't let you go, his tongue still swirling between your folds, drinking in your sweetness. Suddenly your hands are connected and a split second later you realise why: he uses his left hand, with slender, graceful fingers, to push your thighs further apart. You feel wanton and still needy, and as one of his finders curls inside you, you moan his name. "Feyd, Feyd, Feyd." Your own voice seems alien to you, high-pitched and desperate.

"My Na Baroness seems to want more," he smiles devilishly and inserts two more fingers at once. You whimper and throw your head back into the pillows. It feels like the stars are exploding behind you and feel the second orgasm coming as he stops and pulls away from you. You can barely hold back a frustrated squeal. Your body feels hot, the only antidote to this madness his skin on yours. You try to concentrate on his form, seeing him remove his tonic first, then his trousers, leaving nothing to the imagination. His body is pure perfection, not a mark on his porcelain skin, he kneels on the bed again and moves towards you. The tip of his shaft is already pink and covered with pearls of pre-cum. It touches your clit lightly as it settles between your legs. "You'll have to learn to control yourself. So responsive to my touch, so desperate…" he hisses as the black of his pupils replaces the blue, making them almost invisible. His tip touches your entrance and then disappears completely inside you. You feel torn apart and put together at the same time, pain and pleasure mixed into something new, a delicious cocktail of discovery that leaves you drunk and breathless. You want to close your eyes, but he says "Look at me" you hear him murmur and you are lost again. With every movement of his hips, your whole being seems to refragment and reassemble like a kaleidoscope. Your walls convulse around him, his name like a sacred chant. Your nails dig into his back and he lets himself fall, speeding up and thrusting into you with even more abandon. You feel his use of you, your name on his lips. For a few seconds you are speechless, your shallow breaths filling the room. He holds your hips as he lies down behind you, still inside you to the hilt. „Welcome to being my wife, dear Na Baroness“

[prettypinkporkchop]

Hope you’re doing well today!! Can I please get a Sam x reader where she loves animals and keeps just bringing them home and Sam is literally just like bruh where tf are we gonna put these things😂😂 personally I’m a cat and dog lady but if you threw a few chickies in there that would be cute😂🤍

You open the car door, ready to go inside the house where you and Sam live. You look over at the passenger seat at the stray cat you HAD to pick up.

"A third cat won't be that bad.." You say to yourself and lift up the cat. He's orange, and you know it's going to be a chaotic pet.

You open the front door, and the two dogs jump on you in excitement. They are sniffing around your hands.

"Hey, hey. Calm down, babies." You say as you place the cat on the floor.

"Babe... really?" You look up and see a sleepy Sam standing a few feet away from you.

"I'm sorry! I couldn't help it! He was starving!"

He smiles and lifts up his hand to get you to stop talking. "It's fine, babe. But we are running out of room." He walks to the cat, bending down to pet him, but the orange cat runs off with your other two cats. Sam chuckles and then stands up, touching your waist. His lips tug into a smirk.

"What you got, Uley?" You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He presses kisses on your lips, lifting you up and bringing you to bed.

You wake up to an empty bed but hear everyone in the kitchen. You groan and force yourself up to be sure nothing is fucked up in the kitchen.

"Hey! She's awake!" Jared says, licking a spoon.

"What are you guys doing?" You squint at the sun that shines through the windows of the kitchen.

"We're hungry. Sam is starving us." Embry replies, biting his sandwhich.

Quil nods with Embry's words.

"Poor babies." You say sarcastically. "Where's Sam?" You ask.

"Oh, he's looking for your cat. It ran outside." Paul said.

You sigh and shake your head. "You kids..."

The door opens, and you see orange fluff in Sam's arms. He looks up and smiles at you. "Oh, hey baby. Sorry, I had to go find him." He places the cat down.

You feed the dogs and cats and look over your new orange friend. Hmm.. shots... vet visit. Gotta make a few calls. After placing the cat down, you go outside to your garden. You water them and check on all of the plants. You go to the shed to grab more seeds but see that you are OUTTTT!

"Sam! I'm running to the store!" You yell out to the backyard.

"Okay, baby!"

On the way to the store, you see an old lady standing in front of a small building selling baby chicks.

Sam stares at you from the kitchen with a serious stare. He observes all of the chickies in your arms. "Babe. Where are we going to put them?!" He starts cackling.

"I don't know.." You frown. You look down at them and count. "There's only five.."

Your dogs start barking at the tiny yellow balls in your arms.

San lifts a finger up. "Go sit somewhere with them. I'll be outside." He says.

You groan and keep the yellow babies from jumping out of your grip. You make your way into the bathroom and put them in the tub. You sit next to them and watch them play around.

Within a few minutes, Sam comes in. "Baby, grab them. Follow me." He opens the door and looks down at you.

You nod your head, lifting them up and following Sam. He leads you outside and next to your garden. You see a tiny wooden house. Something you'd keep chicks, bunnies, rabbits, or other tiny pets in. You whip your head to Sam.

"Where did you get this?" You ask in shock.

"Well," he takes them from you, "I married you. I built this after your orange friend came along. I named him Sunny by the way," he opens the tiny door and places them inside. "I knew there'd be more to come. I wasn't thinking it'd be baby chickens this time. But, I'm planning an area for some goats or something." He laughs.

You smile and blush, pulling him into a hug. "Oh, you're so sweet, my love." You gush against his chest.

He plays with your hair. "I can be."

[ofsappho]

THE KNIFE OF MUAD'DIB (Paul x OC!Reader x Chani)

Wherein na-Duke Paul Atreides is not the Bene Gesserit's only prospect for the Kwisatz Haderach. Raised by Paul's side as his playmate and servant, Chryse, the Bene Gesserit's cuckoo child, will forge a new future for her master.

(previously posted on AO3 as Themis)

PART I: JESSICA

Lady Jessica focused her intent gaze on the Reverend-Mother’s... gift. This gaze, to which the minutiae of observation was second nature rather than practiced pretense, followed the lines of the girl-child’s high cheekbones up towards large eyes that appeared to overwhelm the face they were set in.

She’d seen that look in those eyes before. Perhaps a thousand times over, a million times over. Reflected in the mirror back at her on Wallach IX, reflected in the shadowed eyes of the girls she barely remembered. The girls that one by one fell, until amongst a hundred girls there stood five Bene Gesserit.

Jessica’s skirt rustled against the floor as she stalked closer, circling the child, examining every angle.

How interesting.

Such control in the child’s bearing, belied by such fear.

Paul had always been fascinated with off-world animals in the filmbooks; the agrarian creatures that inhabited Caladan for over twenty generations bore no thrill to her clever son. Jessica had never understood his fascination as the filmbooks rendered such organisms dead to her. Mere simulacrums of life with soulless eyes.

Perhaps one such simulacrum stood before her now in the form of a human girl. “Reverend-Mother, does she have a name?”

“We call her Chryse. However, if that name does not suit you, Jessica, you may name her as you wish. It is of no consequence to us.” Reverend-Mother Mohiam’s demeanor certainly hadn’t changed in the slightest from the days when she served her overtly. When Gaius Helen Mohiam spoke, everything from her inscrutable countenance to the even tones of her voice commanded subservience. “You will not harm nor bring harm to the girl-child. It is our one order.”

Jessica watched as Mohiam brushed her fingers against Chryse’s jaw to tilt her still face up towards the sallow light of the glow-globe. Not even a muscle twitched in her smooth facade. Jessica wondered what sort of chaos lay beneath, whether the girl would be like the jagged rocks under the beckoning surface of Caladan’s oceans. Only a fool would dive into the dark water blindly.

There was no other option but to acquiesce. “You have my word. She shall not come to harm under my care or the care of House Atreides.”

“Good.” A look passed between them, lasting only a second. Within that second lay an eternity.

The Reverend-Mother strode from the room with an economical gait, not sparing another iota of energy to look back.

Jessica knew then the precise nature of this “present”.

How many men had failed in the making of the Kwisatz Haderach? How many years, decades, centuries had her sisters carefully tended the most sacred plant, a mind that could bridge space and time. If Paul failed -

She stopped that fearful thought in its tracks, held it in the cradle of her mind’s eye, then let it pass through.

The Bene Gesserit were patient like mountains were patient. Time was an endless resource. It was better to cultivate many plants of good stock than to nurture a small garden and watch as its leaves shrivel and diel. Chryse was not and could never be the Kwisatz Haderach. Perhaps that fact ought to have assuaged Jessica’s fear. Yet - if Paul should die while he was only eleven, the House of Atreides forever extinguished, the child seemed poised to become the next vessel to carry the bloodline of the Kwisatz Haderach. Only ten years old, and she had mastered the prana-bindu like an adept three times her age. Who knew what sort of terror she had been bred to create?

Her son had already shown promise even without her training. Paul might flourish, grow into a man, grow into the mind that the universe needed. That would never come to pass if Chryse supplanted him.

Mohiam must have felt some minute degree of affection towards Jessica. If she hadn’t, the Reverend-Mother would not have left the girl in her care. The blade was double-edged; the Bene Gesserit cared not for which of the two survived, only that one of them did. Motherhood had softened Jessica to the point where she felt some empathy for her poor charge. Not enough empathy to entirely stay her hand, but enough that she wanted the girl to live. Enough that she intended to lift the burden of killing her from Paul’s narrow shoulders.

“Come here, girl.” Once she was close enough that the Bene Gesserit-trained woman could stretch out a single, finely-boned hand and press her fingers to the weapon’s temple, she bade her stop.

Jessica brushed her mind carefully up against Chryse’s, wary of the mind traps the girl had surely been taught from birth.

There were no traps. Not even a token protest.

Chryse had fewer defenses than a newborn infant. Her mind was splayed out in the open; even the slightest whisper of Voice guaranteed complete obedience. The Bene Gesserit had truly forged a weapon of a girl. She hadn’t a psyche of her own - where there should lay a personality was instead filled with iron bars of mind conditioning. Jessica’s heart ached for her. No child deserved to live like that.

A moment passed wherein she further plumbed the depths of her mind. Jessica knew then that Chryse could never use a Voice of her own. The same breeding that had left her mind wide open had left her unable to Speak. But of what use to the lineage of the Kwisatz Haderach was a girl entirely unable to use the Voice and critically susceptible to it?

The vision came on suddenly, as the waves did against the shores of Caladan. A figure whirled amongst dozens of men as they fell to their knees. The lady knew those movements by heart even though they felt wrong. It was the Weirding Way, without a doubt. At the same time, every action was utterly alien. Chryse moved through the battlefield like a valkyrie of old with hands that created ruination with every twitch. Her deficit of Voice was more than made up by her complete mastery over the physical realities of others. Lungs collapsed inwards; hearts refused to beat; nerves froze. Blood. Oceans of blood.

Without meaning to, her fingers fell away from the girl’s temple in astonishment and the vision dissipated like morning mist.

The Kwisatz Mother had bred an abomination.

The laws of nature should have forbidden such a being from coming into existence. No doubt, she wouldn’t have without the careful guidance of the Bene Gesserit. What infinite combination of genes could produce a person who could bend human bodies to their will? A weapon to be wielded against the very molecules of anatomy? Chryse had quite a bit further to go before she would become the war goddess Jessica saw in her vision, but her raw talent remained a cudgel poised over Paul’s head and ready to end his life.

This was an unacceptable outcome.

Forgive me, Jessica thought; forgive me for what I must do. “You will never harm Paul Atreides. You will never allow harm to come to Paul Atreides. You will always remain loyal to him and never betray him in the slightest. You will lay down your life for him.” She swallowed down her guilt as she watched her Voice take root in the blank shell of the young girl’s mind. That Chryse was now freed from Bene Gesserit absolute control was a small consolation for the crime done against her. For Paul to live, this girl must be subjugated.

Her wide, dark eyes blinked. There it was - a tiny spark of life in her young, solemn face. Chryse was just a girl. A young one, at that. Innocent. Guilt ensnared Jessica’s heart and held it in a chokehold. The sisterhood had not completely uprooted her weak personality, but there was no doubt that their conditioning program left permanent scars. Jessica’s Voice would not have affected Chryse nearly as much without it.

The lady resolved always to be tender to the girl. At a minimum, she could improve the quality of Chryse’s life. Jessica told herself this as she called for servants to take the girl, bathe her, dress her, and prepare a chamber for her near Paul’s. Was it so selfish of her to want her son to live? At any cost? Paul’s new companion would always be treated well and never punished. There were worse fates. For the Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit could commit any number of sins.

But Jessica knew her mind and herself. This was a blood debt that she could never repay.

Paul would be safe, and the girl’s powers would never be used against him. That would be her consolation.

-

Her palms smoothed over the muscled plains of Leto’s back. The Duke was her husband in all but name, and Jessica reveled in how he relaxed at her touch. At the school on Wallach IX, she’d learned everything but the warmth of trust and partnership built from deep, mutual love. There was no room in the lives of the Bene Gesserit for any kind of love besides the love of the sisterhood. It was this trust and love that had led Jessica to birth Leto a male heir instead of the daughters she’d been commanded to produce.

Leto reluctantly pulled himself away from her to pick through some papers strewn across his desk. “What’s this I hear about a new handmaiden joining our household?” 

Involuntarily, Jessica inhaled. “Ah, my new charge. Chryse. An orphan, Bene Gesserit trained but not suited to the task. Reverend-Mother Mohiam, the Imperial truth-sayer, has entrusted her safety to me.” She kept her hands out of Leto’s line of sight so he couldn’t see the tension in her white knuckles. Ever so slowly, the lady exhaled. Again, guilt. The guilt threatened to consume her whole.

Her husband had always been far too intuitive for his own good. “She is young.” Sometimes a conversation with him was like playing chess. Every word, every tone, every movement playing off those of the other. Jessica enjoyed such a conversation far more when the stakes were not nearly as high. Perhaps he knew even subconsciously what she felt, what she had done.

Jessica let the silence in the air hang.

Leto sat at his desk, his brown eyes never leaving her smooth face.

She conceded first. “It will be some time before the girl will serve as my handmaiden in truth, but is she not of an age with Paul?” Not quite a lie, not quite a truth. A certainty presented as a question even though she had already decided the answer.

With no other child from her in sight and no political marriage alliance contracted to provide others, her son remained at the forefront of his father’s concerns. “Paul must keep his attention turned towards his lessons. I trust you, Jessica. He cannot be distracted.” Leto was known to others as inscrutable and honorable. She could read every emotion that flickered across his handsome face. He was worried; that much was plain. He was worried about what the legacy he’d built and the enemies he made might do to his kind son. His only son.

Even though he would never know it, the solution to his worries was close at hand. “My love, every child needs a companion. There are no children of an age with Paul on Caladan and certainly none suitable for his station. I’ve seen his loneliness. I know you have too.” The truth in her words was undeniable. Only eleven years old, and Paul had never known a friend his age on Caladan. He glued himself to his filmbooks and the stories of Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck. Leto cared for more than just raising an heir. Jessica knew he loved Paul. He worried about his well-being. Her husband would grant her this wish. Check.

“What better place for a friend than a girl in his mother’s service? They won’t have to be parted for quite some time. And there is no better judge of caliber than the Bene Gesserit.”

His resigned sigh echoed in the quiet of his study. Checkmate. “You’re right.” Leto’s footsteps as he got up and drew closer to her were a comforting rhythm. She knew that rhythm by heart.

“I do tend to be.” The impulse to feel the rhythm of his pulse beneath her hands overtook her, and she let it. Jessica reached out to press herself to him. Her Duke responded in kind as he gently drew her arms around his neck and brushed his forehead against hers.

It was more than enough sometimes to breathe in the same air as her beloved. To know that she shared space, time, and life with him.

Leto pressed a kiss to her mouth. Without any further words, he left the room.

Her fingers pressed against her closed eyes as if to alleviate the burden she’d taken upon herself. All of this would be justified in the end. Jessica had to keep faith in that.

Reposting this unfinished dune fic i started during the 1st movie and orphaned on ao3! Seems as if there's interest. LMK if you want on the tag list.

[inkofthebrain]

Imperial

[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 1113 Words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor's eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them...

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of yin, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

Previous Chapter Next chapter (coming soon…)

Dune Masterlist

Nine———

Everyone in their right mind knows not to stop a charging bride so the guards didn’t even lift a finger as you marched towards the lush estate gardens.

Caladan has become less daunting the more time you spend there, you only wish it will be the same for the landscape of desert you have been sentenced too. Your thoughts consume you, racing past behind you eyes and gone before you were to process them, as your feet patter off path to a small clearing by the cliff side.

Your eyes gazed over the crashing waves against the resistance of the cliff side and fate came to mind; when does it not. You never really believed in it but you have come to the realization that with enough time and planning, anything could be orchestrated.

Your fate in particular seemed to have been thousands of years in the making, and while you have tried to fight against it similar to the angry waves beating the stone—-the tide will always succumb to the earth.

The salty air entered your nostrils with a swift inhale as you attempted to soothe your aching heart. The emotion was somewhere between grief and anger for both your father and your stolen fate.

You lifted your left hand and examined your ring before adjusting it slightly, there was no method to your movements, you just needed something physical to bring you out of your head.

And that is exactly what happened when you felt a hand brush your shoulder. You instantly whipped around to see who had caught you, but all you saw was Paul.

“We have a reception to attend, you know” His tone was rather playful, despite the fact you charged away before any words could be exchanged.

You tired back to the water before speaking, Paul following shortly to your side. The friendliness between the two of you was comfortable, You both kept each other within an arm's reach both physically and emotionally. A fine line seen all too often in these marriages.

“I’m Empress, aren’t I to do what I please?” You quip.

“If only it were that easy”

“If only”

A comforting silence fell between the two of you as you soaked in the view. Who knew the last time you would see such vast oceans. Maybe Paul did. You had no idea of knowing.

His gifts were quite alarming at first but a clear symptom of his spice agony. Drinking the water of life is a pain you have only had the horror of hearing about from your fathers truthsayer. It was a brutal ritual not even the Sardukar could endure.

The lives of so many others entering your mind, the multitudes of paths, the multitudes of potential. All while retaining your current wants and desires. The bile had heightened almost every part of him, his intelligence, his fears, and the crushing sensation of a will not of your own.

“Tell me about Arakkis?” You asked him

“It’s baren, and the heat follows you everywhere and—“

“Not a Definition, Paul. About your time there. I’d like to know what I’m getting into.”

You were terrified to be thrown into his world. Adjusting to a foreign culture is always strenuous but being implanted in one where your betrothed is their messiah? It was hard to tell if the people would accept you or reject your legitimacy as a bride to their mahdi.

His lips straightened into a tight line as he pondered where to start but like most things in the imperium, it was nipped in the bud before it would foster. You heard Delia’s stride approaching from behind.

“While I love to see the new Emperor and Empress basking in one another’s company, there are quite a few important people who are expecting the both of you very soon.” Her hands were clasped down at her waist as she attentively waited. You nod your head and let out a small hum before turning away from the view.

“I have another quick change, hm?” You question, Delia Humors your small remark and lets out a small laugh before nodding her head.

“I’ll see you there, husband.” The word felt like a dagger shooting through Paul. As you stepped away with Delia, Paul continued to ponder on what his life has succumbed to.

He had just married a woman he barely knew, all the while leaving the woman who brought him to be the person he is now behind in the dust. He hadn’t told you about Chani, yet somehow there was an unspoken agreement between you two that some things were to be left unsaid. This was a political marriage after all.

Chani despised him, he had risen above her after swearing he would be equal to her. Now he is her emperor, her new suppressor. Paul couldn’t help but wonder if the path he was blindly leading you down would leave you hating him as well. Maybe that’s how it was fated to be.

———

Delia had you re-pampered in all your imperial glory as you were thrown into a room of hungry politically driven wolves with Paul at your side.

After lists of warm wishes and congratulations, many of said wolves dove in for the kill. Presenting the two of you with ideas, requests, and comments on their states. Everyone was there, from planetary governors to heads of houses, all for the same greedy purpose; power.

Connections mean everything in this court, you are unlikely to get far without them. This is what you were taught from a very young age, both false and true connections. Double sided “friendship” and backhanded comments on current policies were all the rage as you and Paul were forced to parade yourselves around the large room.

Once you and Paul were able to seclude yourselves in a far corner you decided it was time for politics.

“We need a new truth-sayer, I cannot bear the thought of Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam attempting to further stir my fathers corruption into our future.” You turned to face him, “she is all but fond of you”

Paul let out a short chuckle, “That I am very aware of. The Bene Gesserit are not my biggest supporters.”

You let out a small hum in response, “Your mother?”

Paul shook his head, “She is the Fremen’s, we mustn’t take her from them. Not after they have just gained their Dune back” With a nod of your head and the clasping of your hands, you direct your attention to the rest of the room. Trying to predict who wants to make a proposition next. Trying to predict where your future would take you.

———

Next chapter (coming soon...)

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