#Leto Atreides x Reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

controld3vil · 5 months

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chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to rebecca ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

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The Only One

Dark - Duke Leto Atreides X f!Reader

Not Beta Read

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

The duke needs an heir, or Caladan will fall under the rule of his enemies. There's one woman is capable of saving the planet...she's the only one.

Tags/Warnings

Disclaimers: This fic does not comply with canon, throw everything you thought you knew about the Dune lore out the window. The duke is (in my opinion) in character for this situation, despite the obsessive tendencies. There is heavy non-con in this fic, it's not for everyone. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing in fanfiction, please keep on scrolling thanks. NSFW, non-con, rape, kidnapping, sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, lactation kink, pregnancy, blood kink, cockwarming, forced pregnancy, non-consensual bondage, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, body worship, pregnant sex, oral sex (f receiving), Dark fic, Dark Duke Leto Atreides. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 6k

Prelude

After many years of trying for an heir, Duke Leto has begun to give up hope. Without an heir, the emperor threatens to give away his birthright, strip him of his title, and hand Caladan to his enemies. He has been given only one final year to produce a son who will carry on his family name. While searching for someone who could give him what he needs, he happens upon a mysterious woman. The strange woman tells of a prophecy, one that Leto takes very seriously, because he has no other choice. "In a village, not far from here, my lord, there's a girl. She is not of noble birth, but I have seen her future, and she will give you many sons." Duke Leto, a kind and gentle man, would never hurt someone so innocent on purpose, but when faced with the choice of taking you, or losing Caladan to those who meant to oppress it, he must set aside his morality for the greater good...

The duke entered his chambers where you were suspended from the lofty ceiling, as he’d requested his men to do once they found you. A warm smile spread across his face at the sight of you, so beautiful, so scared. Leto stepped forward, nearly jumping when your head shot up and your tear-stained eyes locked on with his. He held one hand behind his back in a regal manner, holding the other out to touch your cheek as he closed in on you slowly.

“W-wh…” you cleared your throat, “where…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of your beautiful face, “you’re safe now. There’s no need to panic.”

Despite his words, it was clear you were terrified, struggling to breath in a normal, even heave. No matter the fear you displayed in your eyes, the duke’s expression remained calm, and filled with adoration.

“I know you’re frightened. It is…expected,” he said softly, standing up straight and casually walking to his wardrobe. “Would you care for some wine perhaps? Or I can call for the doctor, he could provide you with a mild sedative?”

He turned to look at you, your head was hung downward once again, naked body trembling and rattling the chains that held you in place. He wasn’t a cruel man, though he suspected you thought he was. He’d never done something like this before, sending his guards out to retrieve a young woman to keep in his chambers indefinitely. A nearly inaudible sob escaped your lips.

“No need to cry my dear, you’re not in any danger,” he said, beginning to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the metal piercing through the room. “In fact, you’re going to be very well taken care of here. Do you have any idea just how lucky you are?”

You cried harder, sobs becoming even louder as you looked up at him again. He removed his shirt, revealing his warm, sunkissed skin. It was hard to tell, but he appeared handsome through the blur of your tears. You dropped your head again, your neck aching from the position you were in. Your arms were pinned behind your back, body bent forward at the hips, leaving your rear exposed and open. Your thighs ached, legs spread wide, forced open by a metal pole secured between your knees. The ache in your chest from your labored breathing was horrid enough, only made worse by the chains wrapped around you, keeping your torso held upward and parallel to the stone floor.

“You don’t even realize that you are the most important piece to maintaining our way of life of Caladan,” he continued, removing his pants completely and letting them fall to the ground. “I have been unable to find anyone compatible. Perhaps it’s that my genetics are too much for the average woman to carry to term.” He stepped closer to you, cock bobbing heavily with every stride. “But you’re not average, are you my dear?”

“P-please,” you croaked, “I…I…”

“No no, not another word. You’re frightened now, yes, but you’ll soon realize the important work that you were made for,” he walked past you, running his hand along your arm and to your hip as he did. “The important job you’ll be doing for me…”

You whimpered, struggling slightly against your restraints but to no avail. The duke used to pride himself on being an honorable man, and even in this morally reprehensible moment, he felt justified in his actions. He didn’t always like what his duty called him to do, but knowing it was for the greater good, he would do almost anything.

“You see my dear,” he cooed, “you were found for me, a beautiful, fertile woman who is prophesied to give me many children…” he leaned into your ear, “many.” His tone turned to a low rumble. “So even though this may seem sudden, you will realize with time that you’re fulfilling your purpose…your destiny.”

His right palm splayed over the globe of your cheek, moving toward where your body was spread in two. He didn’t like hearing you cry, but he knew it was inevitable. No normal girl would consent to being abducted and restrained in a man’s bedroom, not even the duke’s bedroom. He saw your puckered hole, and he pressed his index finger to it gently, inciting a gasp from you, followed by the rattling of the chains. You cried out, begging him to release you, but your wails fell on deaf ears.

“I know you care about Caladan, our people. I know you care about the Atreides legacy, and you know…” he spit between your crack, letting his warm saliva trickle from your rim down between your folds, “you know I need a strong, healthy heir.”

Leto positioned himself behind you, using his hand to fist the fat tip of his cock at your glistening entrance. The metal pole keeping your legs spread for him creaked with tension as you struggled to close your thighs, a pointless endeavor. He sighed heavily, gliding his head between each crevice of your pretty little cunt, making himself slick with your arousal.

“You must think me to be a cruel man, but you’re mistaken darling. I don’t want to hurt you, and if you’ll relax this will be much less painful for you.” His breath was ragged with an almost animalistic desire. “You must understand, however, that I care far too much about the future of my people not to provide them with an Atreides heir.”

No matter how hard you tried to escape the flesh splitting thrust of his wide girth, your attempts were futile. A pained scream echoed off the walls of his chambers, followed shortly by the warmth of your blood against his thighs as he slapped them against yours loudly. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he wanted to get your first time over with, and not drag it out any longer than necessary. He slowed down after a moment, once your screaming turned to soft whimpers.

“You’re doing so well…” he huffed through his nostrils harshly “…I know this isn’t easy for you,” Leto leaned forward, grabbing one of your hanging breasts in his large hand, pinching the nipple gently, “b-but your body was built for this…it was built for me…”

“No, n-no…” you trailed off, feeling your head fall back down, neck aching still from the strain. A small moan left your lips, despite your attempts to keep it in.

“O-oh sweetheart is…is it starting to feel good?” The roll of his hips remained at a steady pace. “That’s wonderful, it will help with the pain, and your time will be more enjoyable for you if you can gain some pleasure from this as well, I don’t want you to feel misery if I can help it.”

“S-stop, please, my lord…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, continuing to palm at your breast.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your spine. He could feel your tied-back hands fidgeting against his ribcage. His free hand moved to your left hip, holding it tightly to angle himself deeper.

“I’m going to fill you with every bit of me , every-single-drop,” he punctuated each word with a harder thrust. “I need to make sure you get it all, need to make sure it takes…mmph!”

Surely your noisy whimpers could be heard in the halls, yet no one came to help you. They all knew what was happening in there. You were to be the mother of the next Atreides heir. You would be made to bear child after child for the legacy obsessed duke. A breeding vessel for a desperate nobleman, torn between his kind nature and his need for the security and wellbeing of his people.

“The emperor will take everything I have if I can't secure my bloodline. He’ll give it t-to the…” he whimpered and gulped deeply, “Harkonnens, and I can’t let that happen to my people.”

You could hear nothing over your whimpers save for the wet slapping of his skin against yours as his pace quickened. You didn’t know what he was going on about - destiny, legacy, an Atreides heir? - He snapped forward again, a gravelly rumble falling from his chest. He moved to an upright position, letting your breast hang loosely once more. You wailed loudly, the feeling of his thick fingers leaving their impressions in the flesh of your hip.

“M-my lord, my lord…it hurts so…s-so-much-s-sir!”

“I know, but you’re taking me so well anyway aren’t you?” He looked down where your puffy little hole swallowed his crimson painted cock. “Look at that.”

His index finger touched where you were stretched around him, that little bit of skin that held onto his cock like it never meant to let go. You whimpered, chains rattling around you as your body involuntarily moved, only serving to sink you down further on his length once more. He could hear you hyperventilating, a panic-stricken whine punching out of your chest that he felt a tad guilty for inciting.

Until he remembered what your purpose was…the reason he’d had you brought to his castle in the first place.

He reached an arm around your leg, sinking the pad of his finger into the wet, bloody mess between the slippery lips of your cunt. In the sea of your arousal, he found the swollen bud that made your walls flutter around him. You gasped, and seemingly on their own, his hips slid forward, chasing that delicious feeling of your body finally accepting him, pulling him deeper inside.

“You like that don’t you?” He bit his lip, a breathy chuckle escaping through his teeth with the knowledge that he’d found a way to settle your terror, if only for a moment. “I promise, no matter how terrible this may be, that I won’t allow you to stay like this…and-s-suffer-oh-my…”

He felt your body squeezing tighter, walls contracting around his cock. He thrust forward again, shuddering at the way you were taking him, pulling him deeper, like your body was begging for his cum, like you needed him to feed your hole until you were stuffed and overflowing.

“Mmm-m-my-lord…p-please–”

Your tone was different now, more sultry and full of desire. It was good to hear you like that, moaning instead of crying, grunting with pleasure instead of pain. This would be so much better for you once you gave in, he knew that much. He could give you everything: make your body shake with orgasm after orgasm, clothes made from the finest silks, and comforts that were reserved for only the lords and ladies of Caladan.

“Your pleas don’t go unnoticed sweetheart, don’t think me cruel, I wouldn’t do this if the circumstances were different,” he huffed, breathing becoming more ragged with every glide of his hips. “I need you…Caladan needs you–needs-you-full-ah!”

The smooth roll of his hips slowed as his seed spilled into you. You felt it, warm and slick as it coated your insides white. You felt a sensation you’d never felt, rolling over your entire body and pooling in your core, causing your legs to shake and your mind to go blank. It was euphoric; a reprieve from the pain you’d endured for what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than several minutes.

Leto felt your pussy walls squeezing, crushing down over his girth in waves while you moaned. What a sweet sound, one that made him feel mental relief that he’d given you something in return for your suffering. His finger slowed around your hardened clit, letting you come down slowly from your high.

As your pleasured whines subsided, you thought he would remove himself from you, letting your hole relax after such an ordeal, but he didn’t. The duke stayed there, hips pressed flush against your rear, making no motion to release you from his hold. You moved slightly, but he gripped tightly on your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

“No, no darling, no.” His voice was calm but raspy, still settling after his climax. “I’m going to stay like this for a moment longer, just to make sure it takes. We wouldn’t want to waste it.”

He looked down, seeing the way your body had bled on his, coating his pubic hair in a deep red shade. He felt for you, truly he did, but once you realized what an honor it was to be in your position, he knew you’d find it was worth the sacrifice. Your breathing was slowing, going back to normal, and after several moments he pulled back, letting his limp cock fall from where it had torn you open.

You groaned, feeling yourself become empty all at once. Your head hung down, neck finally too tired to hold it up any longer. You heard the duke tsk behind you, his palms pressing against your cheeks and spreading them further. The sound of dripping cum on the floor echoed through the room.

“Let’s keep it all inside, sweet one, I need you to give me a son,” he pushed his spend back inside you with his finger, what little was still there and had not fallen to the floor.

You winced and hissed, the metal holding you in place rattling once more. His thick middle-finger slid in deep, Leto shuddered as your hole clenched in response. He could hear you crying, a soft, defeated sound he wished one day would stop. But he couldn’t expect that from you, not now as he broke you in for the first time. He expected you would be like this for a while until you were used to him, used to his size, used to the way he kept you as full as possible, as often as possible.

“Your body handled me very, very well darling,” he said, idly fingering you as he spoke, continuing to push his spend back inside you. “Looks like I’ve made quite the mess of you, but don’t worry, I’ll have you cleaned up in a moment.”

He kept true to his word, once he was thoroughly satisied he’d kept his cum in you long enough, the duke turned onto his back, positioned himself between your thighs, and propped himself up on his elbows so his lips could reach your cunt with ease. A gasp shot from your lungs, the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your sore folds bringing comfort to the ache. You moaned, a sound that represented more than just sexual pleasure, but a sound that told him you were at least accepting your fate…for the moment.

He was right, there was no more fighting, and it was clear your words weren’t going to change his goal oriented mind. His desire to have an heir was stronger than his desire to act honorably. His tongue went flat, you felt it soothing the tear of your hymen, then dragging upward and flicking once it reached the peak of your folds. You exhaled a sigh, cunt throbbing in response to the way he lapped at you masterfully.

“You know not many,” he kissed your pussy lips, “can say,” another peck, “they’ve been lucky enough to carry such an important role for Caladan. Even I’m not as important as you are right now.”

His hand reached up and pressed against your stomach while his mouth continued to melt into your cunt, soothing you even more as he cleaned you. He never felt such pride as he did in that moment, knowing that this was a good effort, even if it didn’t take. The sheer amount that he ate from you, in combination with his already discarded seed on the floor underneath him, gave the duke a sense of relief to know that he was producing sufficiently on his end. It wouldn’t take long for you to give him a healthy child, if you were indeed the girl the old woman had told him about.

You whimpered still when his tongue would touch your wound, though it was always followed with the relief of him dragging it over your clit. He slurped quietly as he continued, not making an indication that he would be stopping any time soon, despite the likelihood of you being clean already. The hand on your stomach moved, reaching up and cupping your breast, holding it and squeezing softly.

“Oh, my lord, y-yes…”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the heat pooling at the base of your abdomen once again. Was it even worth trying to deny the way it felt? He was the Duke of Caladan after all. If he wanted a hundred concubines tied up to his ceiling he could take them, and no one would stop him. You should be grateful it was he who took you, and not someone who might’ve been much more cruel in their claiming of your body.

He hummed into your folds, breathing heavily through his nose as he did. His hand slid over to your waist, gripping around you and holding tight. The vibration from his moans, and the brush of his peppery beard against your thighs was causing your body to near release once more. That would only be the second time in your life that you’d felt it, and you wanted it more than you could bear.

“Mm, let yourself go my dear, I only want you to feel good from now on, now that I broke you in a little.”

His mouth never left your cunt as he spoke, his words only serving to draw your next climax from your body faster. You felt it fall over you, warm and heavy, making your body melt once more, going limp save for the involuntary crashing of your walls around the emptiness the duke had left behind. He didn’t stop until he was sure you were fully satisfied, head hanging down again and breathing returned to normal.

With a grunt he rose from beneath you. You heard him padding on his bare feet to the wardrobe on the far side of the room. If you turned your head just a little you could see him, much clearer now than before. He looked at you as he put a loose cotton shirt over his shoulders, then leaning down to pull his trousers over his legs.

“You’re simply the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said in a gentle baritone, moving back to kneel in front of you. “I do not kneel for many, but I’ll kneel for the mother of my children.”

You strained your neck to look at him once again. He cupped your cheeks to help you, seeing your struggle and feeling sorry for the part he played in your suffering. He kissed your forehead, feeling the salt from your sweaty brow upon his lips.

“I’ll return every day, at least until I’m sure you’re pregnant,” his lips curled into a compassionate smirk, “then I’ll let you rest while your belly grows.”

He stood, striding to the washroom and leaving you hanging there, like a prized animal on display. Before long, the same men who’d captured you returned, undoing most of your bonds, save for the ones holding your hands behind your back. They weren’t rough, just like before when they’d abducted you. You felt your entire body sigh, your bones and muscles feeling relieved to fall back into place.

You weren’t sure when exactly you’d conceived. It must’ve happened at some point between that first time when he tore you apart, and the following month when your period didn’t arrive when it should’ve. By then you’d become, not unlike, a piece of furniture in Duke Leto’s chambers, restraints much less restrictive and painful than your first meeting. Only a week after he’d broken you, you’d become more willing for him, crying less when he came to take you.

“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here, despite your situation, and since you’ve become so compliant, I think I can afford to make you more comfortable,” he’d explained.

And so he had you moved to the bed. Though you weren’t completely free. That was a risk the duke could not afford. So he had metal cuffs around your wrists, and chains that connected them to the stone wall behind the bed. You could move easier, but you could never leave.

When another week went by, two weeks after your torment began, he was swelling with pride, seeing you spreading your legs upon his entry into his chambers without prompt. You said you appreciated the silken evening dress he’d had the servants craft for you, the one that fell open on either side of your hips when you presented your cunt to him. He wasn’t supposed to love you - it wasn’t necessary for him to love you - but he felt himself overwhelmed with feelings he couldn’t contain every time he saw you.

Three weeks after that first meeting, you kissed him. It was clear he’d been holding back, allowing you to maintain some level of autonomy, despite having taken your body for himself so many times. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, force you to be intimate with him if that wasn’t what you wished.

So it was a shock when he was several moments into fucking you, cock sliding wetly along your walls in a desperation to fill you with him again, and you grabbed his face on either side. His hooded eyes shot up, meeting with yours but then quickly flicking down to see your precious lips closing in. You closed your eyes, and so did he, and everything seemed to slow down for a moment, including the pace that he thrust into you.

The slow roll of his hips was heavenly, and was soon accompanied by the feeling of his hand on the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss, gliding his tongue inside your mouth so he could taste you. The duke filled you faster than ever that night, being so engulfed in the moment that he couldn’t hold on any longer.

And now, it was just over a month beyond your arrival to Castle Caladan, you were sitting with the physician while he examined you, confirming that yours and the duke’s efforts had been fruitful.

The way Leto looked at you in that moment, was a look you’d never seen before. His dark brows turned up and stitched together, soft lips parted just before a smirk curled over them. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, the glossy sheen of tears apparent in his eyes.

“After years of trying to produce an heir, I finally found a perfect vessel, such a precious thing,” he cooed, touching your stomach before leaning in and finding your lips with his own. “My most wonderful treasure.”

Leto heard nothing else as the doctor murmured about you, voice seeming background to where his focus lied. Part of him was still shocked that the old woman was right. She told him in his search of her prophecy that you, a normal village girl, would produce many sons for him, and she was right.

That night, the duke did everything he could for you. His kisses were softer, less desperate and more deliberate. His hands didn’t grab your flesh as a means to hold you, but rather to feel you. And when he sunk his cock into you, he did so in a way that emphasized your pleasure over his own, angling for those spots that made your body quiver.

You may not have been of noble birth, but to the duke, that night you were his empress. There wasn’t an inch of your skin that hadn’t been brushed by the coarse hair of his bearded chin. He worshiped you, giving you an evening dedicated to only your satisfaction.

For many weeks he would come into his chambers and ramble on about how proud he was, and how well you were doing. He would whisper the most depraved, while beautiful, things in your ear about how the people of Caladan owed you their lives, and how he couldn’t wait until it was time to breed you all over again. All of that praise was nothing though, not compared to the way he looked at you after coming back from his trip to Arrakis.

When he walked into his chambers, and you were there on his bed, only a couple short months away from birth, he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt like the words were trapped in his throat, and his feet were stuck to the floor. All he could do was stare, and take in the beauty before him. You were simply radiant, pregnant belly full with his son, his heir; swelling breasts nearly spilling out of your dress.

Once he found the ability to move again he slowly walked over to you, taking off his coat as he sat beside you.

“Look at you…” his voice trailed off.

“Hello my lord,” you greeted softly.

His hand reached for yours, and he was quickly reminded that you’d been a captive there, metal cuffs still wrapped around your wrists, rattling as he held you. He felt a pang in his chest, wanting desperately to release you. Every time the thought crossed his mind though, he worried you would run. You didn’t seem like you would try to leave, having become much more docile since your arrival months ago. There was also the glaring fact that you were pregnant, and it wouldn’t be easy for you to get away even if you managed to pass every one of the guards who might see you before reaching the doors of Leto’s home.

There was always that small chance though, no matter how slim, that you would leave. It was a risk he couldn’t afford to take.

He looked back at your body, eyes wide and trained on your stomach. The duke leaned in, kissing just above your navel, a satisfied hum escaping his lungs as he did. It was hard not to like him, and that was what you hated about him the most. The man was dedicated to his people, to his title, and his legacy more than anything. The longer you were around him, and the more time you’d spent under his care, the more you’d begun to understand your purpose within his walls.

The idea of the Harkonnens, or any other house for that matter, claiming the right to Caladan, should House Atreides produce no heir, was a frightful one. He broke you from your thoughts, eyes trailing up your chest and to your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, he looked so handsome, lips slightly parted with a few stray hairs falling into his dark eyes. Despite holding you captive for the sole purpose of breeding an heir from you, you’d begun to fall for Leto Atreides, against all odds.

“My sweet girl, my darling, you’re doing so well, growing my child in your womb. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to give me a son, to give House Atreides its heir,” he whispered, cupping your cheek, bringing his forehead to yours. “I’ve been disappointed so many times.”

“Thank you my lo-”

“No sweetheart, no, shh…” he pressed a finger to your lips gently before replacing it with a tender kiss, “you should be worshiped by Caladan, it's people…I want to worship you.”

His hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you against him into a deeper kiss. You felt his growing arousal against your thigh, followed by an involuntary rut of his hips. You whined, trying not to be bothered by the incessant ache in your chest, your engorged tits becoming too heavy and painful to bear. It was hard to focus on the duke’s soothing touch when you felt such discomfort.

He stopped kissing you, looking at you with concern, “are you alright sweet one?” His eyes trailed to your tits, “are they sore? Oh you poor thing.”

You nodded and whimpered, wincing as he pulled one of your straps down and pulled a heavy breast from its confines. Your puffy nipple had a bead of white sitting on it, threatening to trickle down the mound. His pink tongue darted out, lapping up the milk that nearly fell from your breast, and humming in approval of its taste.

“Let me help you my dear,” he said softly, leaning in and latching his mouth over your chest.

You gasped at first, the coarse brush of his beard stinging against the sensitive skin, but it very quickly gave way to a much better, more soothing sensation. You sighed in relief, feeling him suckling at your flesh, drawing out the milk that had been causing your breasts to swell beyond belief. He moaned against your skin, rolling his hips idly as he did. This was very unusual for him, to be so needy and desperate for you, clinging onto your body the way he was.

In the past, Leto would’ve just taken you if he wanted to, but with your body so soft and full with his child, he would resist. Of course he knew you could take it, you weren’t made of glass, but he wanted to give you nothing but comfort, emptying you instead of filling you with more than he already had in the past. He felt your hand reach up and grab the back of his head, delicate fingers massaging between his peppery locks.

“Mm, my darling, so sweet,” he muttered against your tit, a little milk dribbling down his lips.

You felt his hips moving more, now more deliberate before, as though he were accepting of his primal urges to find release, rather than suppress it, but still unwilling to ask you for help.

“It’s alright my lord, you haven’t…mmph…you haven’t been satisfied in some time. Do what you must.”

Even though he was trying to remain stoic and refined, your permission was all he needed to throw all that aside. With his free hand he tugged at his belt, keeping his lips pursed around your nipple as he did. You heard the unmistakable clanking and rattling metal as he found success, pulling the leather from the loops and tossing it to the ground. His dexterous fingers then made quick work of his pants, pulling them to his thighs.

Leto Atreides was a nobleman, not one to give in to such animalistic delights so easily, but something about drinking from your chest, and how perfect you were serving him and his house with your pregnancy made him feral for you. His hands were shaking as he tried to bring his cock to your hole. He’d done it so many times before, why was he struggling now?

“Sir…” you pushed him off your breast, biting your lip at the sight of him as he looked up at you.

His eyes were hooded, milk-drunk and heavy. The lips that had been suckling for a while were now pink, puffy, and covered in a white, glossy sheen. You lifted your leg, sliding yourself into a position that you were both parallel to one another. You wrapped your leg around his hip, angling his fat tip to your slippery entrance.

“You’re too precious, too g-good…oh…” His hips stuttered forward, opening you wide around his cock once again.

You hadn’t been with him in so long, your body had nearly forgotten how to take him. You winced, needing to readjust once again, but he was patient, holding himself flush against your hips while your walls moved aside for his girth. He let out, what sounded like, a low growl as he mouthed at your neglected tit. His hips remained in place, making no attempt to retreat, nor to glide in further. His cock rested there contentedly, throbbing every now and then.

He gulped, humming into your breast as he drank more, the ache in your chest slowly subsiding with every moment that passed. Eventually he moved his hips lazily, pulling back after a time before rolling back forward.

What the duke was feeling with you in that moment was more than a simple sex act. What he felt now was comfort, his cock buried in your soaking, slippery heat, and his lips pursed around your nipple. Leto swirled his tongue in a slow roll over your peaked mound, taking a moment to inhale several shaky breaths before going in for more.

The way he drew more and more milk out of you was causing your body to relax further, your walls becoming more open to his slow movements and deep strokes. A low moan escaped you, forcing his eyes to shoot up, still so dark in their feral hunger. You tugged his hair, forcing him to pull off your breast with a loud pop. Without hesitation, you kissed him, filling your mouth with a combination of your sweet fluids and the duke’s own signature taste

“You’re like no other. Not a day goes by that I don’t want to hold you close sweetheart…”

He brushed his nose against yours, eyes moving slowly from your lips, to your eyes, and back again. A swell of emotion poured through him, his desires going beyond just wanting to give you his seed, but it was something more. Your last name…it was wrong. He never wanted to take a wife, in fact, he’d vowed never to do such a thing, but you’d changed the very fiber of his being from the moment he’d found you.

“After my son is born, I’ll give you the best gift I can, the only gift I can give a woman of such importance…oh my…g…”

The duke lost himself, holding you tightly against him, though careful not to squeeze against your stomach too harshly. His choked moans vibrated against your chest while he filled you, pumping your body with his cum once again. You felt your own climax wash over your body, inspired by his own, drawing everything it could from him as it did, both of you a trembling, moaning mess.

He sighed with contentment after his mind cleared. He looked at you once more.

“I’m going to keep you,” he kissed your lips breathlessly, “I’m going to keep you here with me. I’m going to give you my name, and until the day I die you’ll be mine, my precious thing.” He pecked you again, and then pressed his lips to your stomach.

“I can’t wait to have your name, sir, and to be able to walk around the castle freely,” you said softly.

Leto’s blood ran cold.

Walk around freely…

Perhaps you’d misunderstood him, in fact, he was certain of it. He could see how his words may have been misconstrued. Evidently he would need to be more clear with you. The duke’s gaze darkened when he looked back into your eyes.

“My sweet girl.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. “Until the day you are barren, I cannot risk any harm to you, nor your body.” His words were chilling, but his gaze was warm.

“You’ll never leave this room, so long as I can help it.”

Duke Leto Atreides Masterlist

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ivystoryweaver · 5 months

Text

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

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

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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#duke leto atreides #leto atreides #dune part one #dune #dune fanfiction #leto atreides x reader #oscar isaac characters

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marc-spectorr · 6 months

Text

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎

pairing: duke leto atreides x fem!reader

summary: It's the night before your wedding to Duke Leto Atreides and he finds you struck by panic about your future in Caladan.

warnings: 3.1k wc. arranged marriage, panic attack, anxiety, mentions of conceiving. my limited dune-lore knowledge. soft!leto.

a/n: first leto fic ahhh!! i may or may not write more parts to this in the future. i had so many ideas but if i wrote them all in one fic, it would be a long one (not to mention it would take 1001 years to finish and post). anyway, feedback is very much appreciated! hope you enjoy :)

—

Caladan.

There is a beauty to it that you cannot deny. It's captivating from the very first glance. An indescribable sight, unparalleled to anywhere else in the universe.

Of all the worlds you could be in at this moment, a part of you is glad it's Caladan. In spite of the circumstances that brought you here, you try to be grateful for it. Surely, there are worse places to live on than this.

Here, the ocean is vast, stretching far beyond the starlit horizon. A fresh breeze carries the salty scent of the water towards you. It tickles your skin as if it were a feather, the light coolness sending goosebumps along your arms. You tug your shawl more closely around your shoulders.

It is far from the hot desert landscape you know and love. Despite its recent hardships, that planet was once home to you. It still is. You wonder how long it will be before you consider Caladan as such. It's been one week since your arrival, and you're in a period of adjustment, which in truth, has not been too easy.

The beach is empty, unsurprising as the moon has moved far past its highest point in the sky. You can't sleep. You haven't for so long. Similar to all the nights prior, you had tossed and turned endlessly under silken sheets before deciding to go for a walk. You found no comfort in your bed despite the mattress beneath you being the softest there ever was.

It could be the chambers themselves, surrounded by four dark walls that are still very much foreign to you. You must get used to it, you remind yourself. In fact, it's more than just a room that you must get used to.

Tomorrow, your life will change more than it already has when you moved to Caladan.

Tomorrow is the wedding—your wedding. Many esteemed members of the Great Houses will be in attendance, alongside your closest family and friends, who are now worlds away from you. They will all be present to witness you exchange vows with Duke Leto Atreides, a man you barely know.

You exhale a deep, long sigh and draw your knees under your chin. Gentle waves lap onto the shore, the white foam almost reaching your toes before ebbing away. You watch in comfortable silence, the hypnotic rhythm of the waves creating a sense of calm.

Unwittingly, your mind combs through recent events. You spent plenty of these last few days surrounded by those more interested in your upcoming nuptials than you are. You've grown weary of feigning smiles every second in their company, of pretending to be okay when you are far from it.

You feel alone. You are alone.

It’s a sacrifice—leaving behind the life you had to help your struggling home world. Things are changing faster than the time you have to process them. But you can't afford to wait—the sooner you marry Leto, the sooner your father and your people's burdens will go away.

You are doing the right thing. The noble thing. It's what you were raised to do. The last thing you wish is to be seen as a disappointment.

Still, it doesn't mean you have your worries and doubts. You lack experience, having never courted someone before. You question whether or not you would be fit to be a wife to the stranger who is the Duke of Caladan. You're well aware of the responsibilities you would have to uphold, the expectation that one day you will need to bear him an heir…

You shut your eyes, trying to push past the feeling of your heart starting to pick up and thud heavily against your ribs. But the pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach grows and grows, and it's a losing battle. Not even the ocean waves that mesmerized you moments ago could distract you from the mounting panic inside.

Your thoughts batter you from within like a storm raging out of control. The pressure and expectations others have on you— that you have on yourself— can't be stopped.

They're too loud; they refuse to be ignored this time around.

Your body trembles, your breaths are short and shallow, and it feels like you are drowning; you're helplessly caught in a dangerous current that pulls you under the water. The weight in your chest drags you down and deeper, sinking and sinking until you hit the very bottom of the depths of your own mind, deprived of any air, any light.

It's only until a voice calls out your name over and over again that you resurface. Warm, gentle hands urge you to sit right back up, and you don't have it in you to fight against them. You don't remember curling up on your side, wound in a tight little ball, nearly burrowing yourself into the sand bed as if wanting to be swallowed whole.

"Breathe, darling... Listen to my voice and just breathe, alright? One... two... three..."

You can't see him, not through the hot, stinging tears obscuring your eyes. But you can hear him. His voice's hazy, soft lull is strangely familiar, yet you cannot place whose it is.

He coaxes you repeatedly, and you focus on his words as if they are your one and only lifeline—as if they are the calming waves reaching the shoreline.

You do as he says. You breathe.

"One... two... three... That's it, my lady. Deep breaths for me, and again— one... two... three... Good girl, and again. Breathe..."

You're unsure how long has passed by the time your heart slows, and your breathing evens out. Your blurred vision clears once your tears have settled, and your eyes widen when you recognize the face before you.

Duke Leto Atreides kneels beside you, dressed in a manner you have never seen him in. He has on a loose white shirt and dark lounge bottoms, his graying head of curls mussed by the wind blowing past.

You're uncertain why he's at the beach alone at this late hour despite being seemingly ready for bed. Perhaps concerned guards informed him of your wandering about the castle in the dead of night. Did he come all this way in search of you?

Leto’s dark eyes search your face for the reason of your distress. Embarrassment sweeps over your cheeks— you cannot imagine how much of a pitiful mess you look. God, what if you've ruined it? What if seeing you this way, so weak, and frightened, and pathetic, has Leto wishing to rescind his agreement to marry you? What if, what if—

"Hey, shh… Relax. There is no need to fret," Leto soothes. He must have seen the worry in your eyes, but instead of ridicule as you anticipated, he looks at you with concern.

You cast your gaze down, catching sight of your hand in his. He hasn't let go of it since finding you, and when he notices your muscles tense up from the anxiety that seizes your body once more, he squeezes.

Leto squeezes your hand firmly but nowhere near the point of pain. His words are a quiet murmur in your ears. "Don't go back there, darling. Stay here, on this beach. Squeeze my hand back so I know you're here with me. Can you do that for me, please?"

With his other hand, Leto places a finger under your chin to tip it upwards, meeting your eyes. Again, he holds your hand tightly and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. You concentrate on him, matching your breaths to his. The tension starts to slip away bit by bit, and when it does, you finally squeeze his hand back.

"There you go. Just breathe, you're alright," Leto murmurs with a small smile. It dawns on you how close he is when the sound of the ocean becomes second to his voice. "Better?"

You swallow, then nod following a brief pause, not trusting yourself to speak.

Moving slowly so as not to startle you, Leto picks up your shawl from the ground, dusting it clean of grains of sand before draping it over your shoulders.

You expect him to leave, seeing you have regained some semblance of composure. You much prefer that he would. You can't handle explaining to Leto what was wrong. Is wrong.

The air turns silent as you face the water, wiping the dried-up tears from your cheeks with your fingers. You don't see Leto in your peripheral vision, but he's there, watching you. You can feel it.

"Here," you hear Leto say. Glancing to the side, you find him still sitting next to you. He offers his handkerchief, gently motioning it toward you when he senses your hesitation.

With the slightest smile, you accept the piece of cloth, whispering a "thanks" and looking away.

It occurs to you then that this is your first true moment with Leto. Before today, you had only seen glimpses of him. The most time you have spent with him was during your first encounter, and even then, it wasn't for long.

You chalked it up to Leto having no genuine interest in you. Why would he? He has duties that are much more pressing than entertaining you.

It's not much of a surprise. It would be wrong of you to expect for more. Ultimately, this marriage is not one for love but born out of necessity. A political alliance. A guarantee that your people will be well taken care of. That's the agreement.

Not to mention, you've heard them— those hushed talks amongst the servants and guards about how Caladan does not stand to gain anything from the union.

They are not wrong; many have supposedly expressed concern, including members of the Duke's inner circle. You wonder if he will come to regret his decision one day.

"You've had quite a fright there."

Leto's voice cuts through the silence between you. He shuffles from behind, sitting where he can better see you. You stop yourself from glancing down; it would be rude, and you don't want to tarnish both your image and your family's name even more than you already have.

"I-I am deeply sorry, my lord. You shouldn't have to see that," you manage to get out, catching the way Leto's brows knit together in response.

"There's no shame in such. Why apologize?" he asks you in a soft tone. "And please, there's no need for formalities. Call me Leto. After all, we are betrothed to one another."

Your throat suddenly dries at the reminder that the man before you is your soon-to-be husband. You wring your hands in your lap and give him a nod, skirting from answering his earlier question.

Leto is quick to pick up your nervousness. You can almost see his brain working to piece it all together and grasp what was happening when he stumbled upon you.

You dread what words Leto might say, fearing they will be judgments made against you. You hide from his piercing stare, picking at your nails until a pair of rough yet gentle hands gathers yours, halting you.

Leto squeezes your hands softly, very much like he did before, and it soothes the part of you that has always ached but you could never get rid of.

"You do not have to carry your burdens alone, my lady," Leto murmurs, leaning to catch your eyes once more, and he does. "Whatever it is, unload it on me. Now, tell me what's wrong."

It's almost cruel that your instinct is to doubt him. But if the sincerity bleeding into his voice wasn't enough for you to give him a chance, then it's the tenderness in his gaze. You see the understanding in them, the concern and genuine desire to ease your troubles away.

Your initial perception of Leto has been wrong. You've been wary of him. Intimidated. But this is no man holding no care for you. He could have easily walked away after finding you amidst a fit. Instead, he stayed. He's here when you were convinced he would never find the time to be.

You open up to Leto like a floodgate, admitting to him the thoughts that plagued your mind from the day you learned about this marital arrangement, your nervousness for tomorrow's wedding and your fear of solitude in Caladan in the days that would follow.

You feel selfish, guilty even, for saying all of this out loud. You have no right to complain when the locals here have treated you with only kindness. Others would dream of being in your shoes—of living in a beautiful land, gaining an honorable title, and having a husband who would make you the envy of many.

Why must a blessing cause you great grief?

Leto listens to every word with undivided attention. He lets you speak freely and honestly, never once interfering between your sobs and sentences. He clears his throat only when the whispering waves of the ocean have lingered in the space between the two for some time.

"You are right when you said some of my advisors opposed me marrying you," Leto begins softly, gauging every bit of your reaction as he speaks. "They told me it would bring no benefit to House Atreides—that all we'll do is use up precious time and resources for a dying planet already beyond saving. Their words, not mine."

There is a quiet beat. Leto glances towards the horizon, where the first faint inklings of dawn break through the skies. He continues: "I realized then that those men do not uphold the same values I believe in. Caladan has more than enough riches to go around. There is no humanity in turning a blind eye to people's suffering—especially when we have it in our power to provide aid.

"I've had plenty of disagreements with my advisors, but I couldn't allow those without hearts to remain on my council. My lack of presence is not because I had no interest in getting to know you. Rather, I was ensuring those who showed little care for my bride and her ancestral land no longer served as advisors of mine—a task that regrettably stole time I would have spent with you."

You fall silent. The breath that leaves you seemingly takes more of the load on your being. Your respect for Leto grows. You see now the kind, thoughtful, benevolent man he is.

How could you have been so wrong about him? You'd been irrational, too assuming. So afraid he would turn out to be the complete opposite when he gave you no valid reason that he's such. You should not have been quick to judge his character when you had known nothing about him in the first place.

"I... thank you, my lor—Leto," you eventually say, turning to him. Shame and remorse cling to your tongue. "I am terribly sorry again. Had my mind been sound, I would've realized my distress is unwarranted."

"Nonsense. You're overwhelmed; your worries were reasonable. All I want is the two of us to be on the same page," Leto replies. The warm smile that adorns his lips when you correct yourself and address him by name lingers. “Let's start over, shall we then?"

You watch as he stands on his feet, reaching out his hand towards you. With Leto's help, you pull yourself up from the sandy floor, shaking off the pins and needles stinging your limbs. He holds his hand out once more, this time for a handshake.

"Hello, I am Leto and welcome to Caladan. It is a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have your presence here."

A smile blooms across your face as you shake his hand, formally introducing yourself to Leto the way he had. "I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this. I, my father, and our people are eternally grateful for your generosity."

Leto makes a small bow of his head, capturing your hand between his own. Something inside you feels lighter now. The air around you, once thick like water, isn't anymore.

"You will no longer have to worry about your home world. I will make certain they receive all that they need—as for you, as well. I am here for you, even if it's simply as an ear to listen."

A pause. Leto's voice melts a touch softer. He looks at you with eyes deep and brown as the bark of a pine. "In a matter of hours, you and I will wed. It's merely for formality's sake. What goes on between us as husband and wife is nobody's business but ours. Please know that I ask for and expect nothing in return for agreeing to this arrangement. You will never be forced to do anything you do not wish to. Ever. Is that understood?"

You take in Leto's words, becoming aware of the unspoken ones, those hidden between the lines. Their implications settle on you, and you let out a quiet breath of relief into the air.

"I do," you assure before adding, for what could be the hundredth time since Leto has joined you, "Thank you."

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

The sun peaks over the skyline, casting bright golden rays over Caladan. Leto briefly glances in the distance, the silver strands of his mane and beard catching the light, and they glimmer before your eyes. He smiles wide, the lines on his face crinkling as he watches the sunrise.

You also find yourself smiling, spending a moment more studying Leto's profile before turning to what's ahead of you.

Caladan takes your breath away, even more so in the daylight. You can fully appreciate it now that the storms in your mind have passed, and it's as clear as the skies.

"It's a beautiful day to get married." Leto remarks as the two of you gaze out to the water. After basking in the peaceful silence, he meets your eyes again, offering you his arm like a gentleman would. "Come, let me escort you back to your room. We both should rest up a bit before the festivities start."

Nodding in agreement, you quietly say goodbye to the ocean and allow Leto to guide you away from the beach. The sand beneath your shoes eventually turns to a rocky pathway at the foot of Castle Caladan, its grandeur towering over you.

A warm hand slips into yours.

"From now on, you will never feel alone," Leto says, pressing a soft squeeze to your hand. His hold is comforting, and reassuring. “You will always have me at your side, darling. I promise you that."

You smile at Leto, feeling something tender unfold in your chest when he returns a smile of his own.

You believe him, and for once, you think you will be okay.

—

taglist: @pigeonmama

please note that i’m starting a new taglist for my fics. if you would like to be included, let me know :)

#leto atreides x reader #duke leto x reader #dune fanfic #duke leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides fanfic #leto atreides x you #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #my fics

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recluselecter · 7 months

Text

Jealousy

Leto Atreides x Ex-Wife! Reader

pairings: Leto Atreides x Ex-wife! Reader summery: When y/n spends the night of Leto's inauguration party with another man, he can't help dragging her away. warnings: uses she:her pronouns, mother! reader, jealous Leto, possessive Leto, Non-canon compliant, choking, breeding, cunnilingus mention, voyeuristic if you squint REAL hard. Words: 1.7k

Y/n’s hips were guided grotesquely against a stranger's crotch, drunken babbling tumbling from his lips. The wine in her glass had been spilt and emptied long ago, the red liquid having stained her dress. She didn’t care. She kept her eyes on the new Emperor, hair perfectly styled, beard immaculately trimmed, suit crisp and void of Arrakkis’ sand. She hadn’t seen him since they lived there. After Paul gained the title of Emperor for his father, Leto disappeared, taking Paul and their daughter. This was six months ago. As his coffee eyes burned into her skin, she thought of how he’d avoided seeing her as much as possible, passing their child to her through servants. Now though, he couldn’t avoid her. And it was killing him. She looked perfect, the stain on her dress adding to the gorgeous mess that was Y/n.

Leto Atreides hated her for it.

He stormed up to her, snatching her arm and pulling her away from the stranger.

“What the fuck, Leto!” She yelled over the hustle and bustle of the inauguration party. Leto dragged her through the halls of his new palace, opened a door, and shoved her in. When Y/n observed the room around her, she realized it was a very fancy bathroom.

Y/n glared at Leto. The wine on her dress was her fourth glass, and, gauging by the way she was swaying, she was wasted. Leto looked down at her as rage rose in both of their chests.

“You need to go home,” he stated.

“Why do you care what I do?” She snapped.

“I care that my ex-wife is fucked up in a ballroom of a house that isn’t hers.” The Duke took a dangerous step toward her, his own drink spurring him on. “I care that the bitch I’m forced to call the mother of my child is grinding on random men.”

“Oh my god!” She laughed. “I only call you when it’s late, Duke Atreides. You think I give two shits about your jealousy?” Her words struck a nerve in him as she slurred them out. “I only care about you when you’re fucking my brains out.”

He snapped. Leto’s hands slammed against the counter, his body shoving hers against the extravagant sink. She gasped, legs automatically falling open around him. He loomed over her, rage seething through him. His knuckles were white from his grip on the sink, barely holding himself together. He thought the expensive porcelain would crack under his palms as he leaned closer to his ex-wife. With inches between them, he knew she’d try to kiss him. His plan was dependent on it. Like clockwork, she angled her head up, her lips grazing his before his hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her back. She huffed as he scowled at her, but it was turned into a yelp when he forced her to turn around, bending her over the sink by her neck. He tilted his head at her in the mirror where she glared at him. He didn’t break eye contact as he hiked up her skirt, baring her panties to him. The red fabric matched her dress and her now blushing cheeks.

Leto’s hands snaked around her hips, pulling her back against his clothed erection. She hummed lightly as her hips rolled against him, pulling a small groan from his throat. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear as he tore her panties. “You’re a little slut, you know that?” He leaned back again, nearly salivating at the sight of her bare before him. “No better than a cheap whore.” Her cunt was glistening and had Leto resisting the urge to kneel before her and devour her. His mouth watered for the taste of her, having laid between her legs until the hot Arrakkis sun rose in the sky many times. That was long ago, before he was Emperor. Before he divorced her. For a man who prided himself on his independence as Emperor, he knelt quite often for the woman who vexed him.

She writhed against the sink as he let his fingertips trail lightly around her thighs, avoiding the place she actually wanted him. He pinned her legs to the porcelain, stopping all movement while he teased her. He leaned forward once more, growling in her ear. “You want this?” He let his middle finger enter her just a little, making her cry out in her desperate haze. Y/n nodded vigorously, and for once, Leto complied. He shoved one finger inside her to the knuckle, groaning at how tightly she gripped him. A curse slipped from his tongue, already weak at the knees. Leto Atreides was–and had been for years–wrapped around her finger. Should she ask him to kneel, he would kneel. He desperately hid it from her, but he knew deep inside just how far his devotion went. If she told him to take a knife to the throat, he would enthusiastically if it meant pleasing her.

Leto moved quickly, adding another right before he knew she’d be ready. After decades of bedding her, he knew her body like his own, and her squeak made him twitch in his trousers. He pumped his fingers into her pussy at a cruel pace, too fast to ignore the pleasure, but too slow to get off. She whimpered and cried under him like a pathetic little kitten, palming at his forearms to get him to stop. He bit her neck as he used his free hand to unbuckle his belt. He ripped it from his trousers and unbuttoned the damned pants. Y/n started to protest when his fingers slipped from her wet cunt, but went silent quickly when she looked in the mirror to find him indulging himself, his fingers in his mouth. As he tasted her, he slid his boxers down his hips. She watched hungrily as more of his body was revealed to her. His cock sprung free proudly, and she found herself staring. He grabbed himself, moaning when he slid his hand from the tip to the base, the way she did when she used to pleasure him. His wrist twisted just once before he slid back down to the base, teeth grit as he watched his ex-wife in the mirror. For a moment both were mesmerized by the other. The Emperor found himself admiring her skin and her eyes before he snapped out of it, anger coming back.

She seemed to have the same epiphany as he lined himself up with her. He slid into her easily, and she tightened around him as he entered. He fell forward, holding himself up over her shaking body. He cussed as he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming himself back in. Y/n cried out under him as he set a brutal pace, one hand slipping to her hip.

“Fuck-!” She whined, pressing her face to the counter to cool it.

“Hands on the mirror, baby.” he gritted out. She obeyed, hands slamming against the mirror and providing more stability to the pair.

A knock hit the door, making Y/n jump. She began to stand up, but Leto shoved her back down by the back of her neck, boot slamming against the door to stop it from opening. “GO THE FUCK AWAY!” He snarled. His hips didn’t stop thrusting relentlessly into her as the intruder spoke through the door.

“Emperor Atreides, you must give your speech!”

Leto ignored him, speeding up. Y/n shrieked, legs shaking as he fucked her. His hand slipped to her thigh, forcing it up on the counter and allowing him deeper. He braced himself over her, moaning into her shoulder.

“Show me how much you missed me, baby.” He grunted. She whined under him, brain not working properly. “Do I need to tell you what you already know?” he demanded breathlessly. Y/n gasped as Leto’s hand buried in her hair, yanking her up against his body with his arm around her throat. The mirror loomed in front of her. Leto studied her tear-stained face, her mascara running as he refused to stop moving. She watched his cock disappear into her weeping pussy, her face bright red. “Look how good you take it.” He groaned, watching as his cock reappeared each time, shining with her arousal. Lewd noises filled the bathroom as he ravaged her, as he claimed her.“You’re mine, remember?” he spoke, his voice low and rough in her ear. “This body is mine. This cunt is mine.” Y/n nodded, hands clinging to his arm. “Other men don’t get the privilege of what is mine.” She gasped as his arm tightened around her throat, just barely choking her.

“Yours.” She moaned out. Leto fought the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. He groaned as his stomach tensed, his orgasm coming fast. Y/n clung to him as she came, crying out his name.

��That’s it, darling. Come on, let it out.” He grunted, arm moving from her throat to her waist to hold her up when her legs gave out. Her eyes rolled back, brain numb from the wine and his cock. Seeing her stupid made him snap, moaning as he came deep inside her. She whimpered in his arms, shaking. He rode out his high, groaning into her neck until he came down. He let her down slowly, letting her brace herself on the sink before pulling himself out of her.

He didn’t bother tucking himself away, not until he watched his cum seep from her pussy. As it did, he ran his fingers through it, scooping it back into her and shoving his fingers as deep as they’d go. She cried out, oversensitive. Leto hushed her, running his hand over her back and kissing her cheek.

“I know, my love,” He hummed, still fingering his cum back inside her. “But you know the rules.” Y/n nodded, gaining some feeling back in her legs as he slid his fingers from her. He licked each one individually, savoring the taste of the pair mixed together. His tongue slid over his own skin meticulously as he used his other hand to tuck himself away, refastening his belt.

Leto looked for Y/n’s panties, but only found the scrap of what he’d ruined. Shit. They were going to have to do a raincheck on the inauguration speech. Especially with her current state. Leto gently lifted her into his arms after pulling her dress over her. His past lover automatically snuggled into his neck, arms around him. Emperor Atreides smiled as he planned their escape.

#leto atreides #dune #dune part 2 #atreides #paul atreides #leto atreides smut #oscar isaac #leto atreides x reader #house of atreides #dune movie

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writefightandflightclub · 1 year

Text

Release: Duke Leto x fem!reader

Don’t mind me, just thinking about being used like Duke Leto’s personal stress toy. 👀

Warnings: smut, minors DNI.

A/n: This isn’t really a full fic, more another “here’s what I’m thinking about right now” sorta deal. I swear I’ll write a “proper” fic soon. For now here is my very hastily typed train of thought about ever so selflessly serving the kingdom, via delivering a little… stress relief to your Lord. (Fucking. It’s just fucking, basically.)

The Duke arrives back to his quarters, returning from a fraught council meeting. The fate of Caladan is resting on his shoulders, and hours of negotiations are proving -so far- entirely futile.

He’s evidently tense, muscles taut and coiled, brow heavy, mouth curved downward. He’s silent, his words seemingly compressed, held deep beneath a layer of frustration. He enters the room and storms to his desk, standing over it and pressing his palms into the surface, shoulders hunched over and head hung low. He does not acknowledge you but you approach him; cautiously. Not because you fear his stony demeanour, the breaths seething from his flared nostrils. His hands clenching into the surface of the desk. You never fear him, but you do seek to ease his transition. To ease him towards the relief you can provide him.

You step up behind him, slotting yourself against him, resting your head in the spot between his shoulder blades. Working some of the tension from his tight muscles with your hands.

As soon as you touch him, it is instantaneous, as though he cannot pause. His words still not coming but his body working on his behalf, his broad hands seeking you out. Grabbing you. Manoeuvring you. No time even to kiss you, to look at you.

His fingers raking clumsily and urgently at the hem of your skirts as he roughly folds your body over the desk edge. Pushing you down. His shaking fingers clawing at his own belt buckle, air seething through his teeth as he contacts his throbbing, painfully hard length. He needs you. Needs you like this, with your tits spilling out of your dress. The meat of your hips and ass grabbed up in his clawing palms.

Fuck he needs you.

The council are so rigid, so resistant, and you? You are so… soft, flesh so forgiving. So pliant for him, so easy, moulding to his every whim and desire. He grunts again, no words still as you hear him spit, and you cry out in surprise as you feel the sudden slick of his warm fingers as he applies this cursory lubrication to your heat.

“My Lord,” you purr, all too willing to fulfil him. “Working so hard for the Kingdom. Let me help you relax.”

He needs no encouragement.

You yowl as he fills you. Roughly, and sudden. All the way to the hilt, spreading you open on his girth. You stretch your arms out before you, fingers splayed and tightly gripping the opposite edge of the desk to brace yourself as your thighs are shunted against the other - an all too pleasant bite.

You moan for him, the sound liquid, so smooth, so soft, so compliant, and so at odds with his rigid, unforgiving thrusts. With the hard shape of his frustration, and your slickening cunt offering no resistance.

The Duke presses his hand to the centre of your back, pinning you, your cheek crushed against the table, moans covering all of his official papers like a balm over the abrasion of his duties.

Leto snaps his hips then, slamming himself into you, thrusts needy and oh so careless. So desperate. He grunts as he fills you, stretches you, with no care for anything else but his relief.

He slows. Only for a moment. A slow, tantalising drag out of you, his swollen head notching him inside as you hear him -you think- relinquishing his uniform jacket to the floor, buttons clacking against the tiles. You imagine the sight behind you of Leto in his white, open-collared shirt, the hem billowing over his full, clenching ass cheeks as he resumes his thrusts, working you at a brutal pace. You imagine the sweat gathering across the bared “v” of his chest, glistening on his skin.

He grunts again now as his thrusts become sloppy. Precarious, with the way the wetness is gathering between your thighs. Indeed, momentarily, he slips out of you, and he curses at the loss. Leans forward to gather up your boneless, pliant body, bringing your back to press at his torso.

You feel the tacky heat seeping through layers. Feel the rake of his beard and his hot breath against the back of your neck as he eases himself back inside of you. Slowly, slowly, slowly, with ragged stunted breaths against your skin.

Wraps his arms around your chest to pin you securely to him as he fucks into you - harder now, pace gradually climbing. At just the right pace. Pinning your trembling, waning body harshly between him and the desk edge. Fucking up into you so brutally now that the furniture is shunted across the floor; but he doesn’t stop.

Just keeps thrusting, up and into you so hard that the heels of your feet lift off of the floor, toes against the cold tiles. So hard that you almost tip forward from the force of it - would, if he wasn’t strong enough to brace you. To keep your where he needs you as he uses you like this. Like a stress toy. Like you only exist for his relief.

Then, you feel a soft, deep, shuddered moan bloom against the nape of your neck. He bites you there, against your throat, teeth marking and mouth sucking as you feel him convulse inside of you. As he shoves himself and his seed up into you so deep, like he never means it to find its way out.

You come with him, your release moulding around him, clenching down on him, and dragging further aftershocks from him. He shudders against you momentarily, and you feel all of the tension drop from his body, shed like his layers.

A soft hum and a soft kiss is applied to your sweat-tacky neck as he releases you; gently - ever so gently now - draping your limp form over the desk as your ragged breaths continue to flare in your rib cage. You slow your breathing. Enjoy the lingering bloom of residual pleasure in your centre, your core honeyed and dripping.

When you feel able, you turn to him again, perching yourself on the desk and facing him. Wanting to see him undone for you, but finding him redressing in his uniform - and his composure - instead.

Ah. It becomes suddenly clear to you. “The Council is still ongoing?”

That niggle resettles in his brow. “I stole a moment, but the negotiations will not cease.”

“And you will return with your dick wet?”

His hands reach for you again, but this time, it is to cup your face tenderly. To look down, with amusement, at your skirts all in disarray. Your breasts spilling from your corseted top, and he dips to gather you with a broad palm, freeing you and mouthing softly at your nipple, beard brushing against your tender flesh. You see the ghost of a smile cross his features, despite his busied mind and mouth. “I will return the better for it.”

Mouthing at you more hungrily now, Leto dips quickly to your heat, settling his head under your skirts and sealing his warm mouth over your heat like he’s well aware he’s running out of time. He shivers a tongue through your folds, tasting you. Your core throbs as a resonant hum bleeds through your centre.

“I must go,” he says regretfully, straightening up. Buttoning up his jacket - and his composure.

“Wait, my love,” you call, before he turns away. He obliges, and you make quick work of it, smoothing the undone curl - which has fallen across his forehead - back into place. “Perfect.”

He does not smile; but his eyes do glow for you. “If a conclusion is not yet reached, we intend for another recess at ten.”

His meaning is quite clearly implied, and you are eager for it already.

“I’ll be waiting, my Lord.”

You send him away to fulfil his duties, all the better for you having fulfilled yours.

Truly, it hardly seems like work at all.

#duke leto x reader #duke leto Atreides x reader #leto atreides x reader

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eyelessfaces · 7 months

Text

about time we found each other again.

leto atreides x reader

summary: even years after your wedding got called off, leto is not sure he truly really got over you.

warnings: implied cheating (I am so sorry lady jessica I love you), death of a parent, angst, probably inaccurate dune lore stuff my most sincere apologies I did my best

tags: f!reader, arranged marriage, first love, love confessions, estrangement, time jump where the second part takes place a few years before the first movie (this doesn't matter at all tbh)

word count: 2.1k

this is my first time writing for leto so I hope he's alright lol<3

When you came to meet Leto Atreides for the first time, it was instantaneous; maybe you couldn't rightfully affirm it with conviction yet, but some deep part of you immediately knew that you desired him to be the one by your side for the rest of time.

He had been the only other person around your age when you and your family attended a special meeting on Caladan, and you could very well feel your heart beat faster and your cheeks burn hot at each of his furtive glance thrown your way and each slight smirk over either of your faces when your gaze met his.

Maybe leaving your home land and being sent to eventually move to Caladan wouldn’t be as bad as you had thought, after all.

And it wasn't. You quickly, borderline scarily quickly fell in love with Leto, you were sure of it by now. His manners were those of a man of respect, and he was kind and compassionate, he didn’t have the over excessive pride you would expect from a destined duke.

And ultimately, you grew to also be almost pretty sure that he felt the same way towards you, from the way he listened to you with no feigned interest whenever you shared stories with him, from the way his warm brown eyes so gently looked over at you, from the way he always made sure you were treated right.

You remembered it to be a warm evening when he officially confessed his love to you.

You had been walking mindlessly through seemingly never ending fields, talking about anything and everything for what felt like a lifetime, eventually stopping to lay down and watch the sun set.

Leto had settled on gently putting flowers in your hair while you told him about your childhood on your home land, smiling radiantly as he admired you lovingly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand before he leaned in to kiss you.

Your own hand was quick to find his dark curls neatly slicked back as he hovered over you, the tip of his fingers delicately tracing your face and neck before he pulled away from your lips when it became absolutely necessary.

From there, the sunset and everything else became insignificant, everything could be crumbling around you and you wouldn’t pay it any mind; nothing mattered, not when Leto promised to love you until his very last breath here in the middle of nowhere.

So when you eventually had your parents visit you on Caladan and announce to you that you had been sent there for them to agree with the Atreides upon arranging a marriage with Leto, you couldn’t be happier and it couldn’t be more convenient; you would have chosen him anyway, if given the choice.

Leto had the competence of making everything seem so easy, and he turned out to be quick to ease your worries about your upcoming future as a duchess.

Even under the looming political pressure of your marriage, this wedding meant a starting point for the rest of your life, a part you could not wait to share with him, even if it meant a lot of responsibilities and changes.

Then so suddenly, all at once, it all fell apart, everything.

It was late in the night when you and Leto were laughing and dancing, rehearsing for the forthcoming wedding. Servants had knocked onto your shared room door, and Leto’s hand left your waist as he scurried away to answer the door, opening and making way for them to enter the room.

They came in with a polite nod, one of them unrolling a parchment letter, reading out loud to the both of you.

The letter was from your father, announcing the news that your mother had died while on a mission, resulting in the need of your presence at your home land to take over her legacy and responsibilities for a while.

You didn’t understand what it involved right away, maybe from the shock of the sudden, dreadful news, the loss of your mother too hard to swallow.

You didn’t understand that it meant that you and Leto were bound to be no more, that either of you were now assigned to different fates and responsibilities, that the marriage was therefore called off for the moment being.

And you quite certainly didn't realize that the night you spent tossing and turning around your shared bed with eyes wide open until the sunrise was the last night by his side, that the morning you left was the last time you would see him.

Until years later, what felt like a lifetime.

When you came back to Caladan for political and business reasons, it was only because of the absolute necessity of your presence, otherwise you wouldn't have shown up.

Finding him again after so long drowned you right back again in the same hollow feeling you endured the moment you were drawn apart years ago, and while you mirrored his polite nod and smirk, you couldn't help but still feel the pain of being estranged so brutally, of seeing him again after so many years.

He was wearing the slowly appearing gray streaks of hair beautifully, and the beard suited him like he was made for it; it made his handsome face look a bit more harsh and severe, but he was a duke now, after all.

You lightly cleared your throat as you made your way to leave the meeting once it was over, troubled as you could feel the weight of his gaze burning holes through you all along. You could feel your heart pound through your ribcage the exact same way it used to when he held you when you were younger, and you ultimately came to the rotten conclusion that your stay here in his presence would be a tough, challenging time for you, and that dwelling on the past had been a bad idea, exactly like you had anticipated it to be.

—

It was wonderful out there, just like you had remembered it to be. The view from the balcony offered you an endless panorama over Caladan and its lush lands, and while you loved your home land with your whole being, you couldn’t deny missing living on Caladan.

The fresh breeze of the night was nothing but pleasant, and even though you were slowly starting to feel goosebump growing over your skin, you figured the view of the sun starting to set was more important.

“I thought I could stay focused while in your presence.” you recognize his voice all too well, and you wonder if the shiver running down your spine is caused by his sudden apparition or the wind hitting you. “I was deeply wrong”

“Leto,” you chuckle sheepishly, blushing as you turn around and face him.

A bittersweet smile has quirked upon his face, and he steps further and approaches you. The years have been unkind to him, lines of wisdom and experience growing upon his face transforming him into a man hardened by duty. Yet, beneath the rough facade, you can still see the eyes and soul of the man you once knew and loved.

“Why only now?” he asks, a certain helplessness painted across his face.

“What?”

He sighs as he looks away, licks his lips as he walks besides you and grips the barrier of the balcony with both hands. You only hear the wind as you watch and wait for him to do, to say something.

“This should have been yours. All of this” he mutters, gaze fixed on the sight before him. The clouds look like cotton ripped apart and spread through the wide sky, and the sun setting over Caladan turns them into an abnormal color, one you wouldn't even be able to define. “I waited for you.” Leto declares, head turning to look back at you like he is trying to figure out how you feel or waiting for you to say something.

Your eyes close as a small exhale leaves your mouth. “Why should it matter now, Leto” you scoff, turning away to try to escape his gaze, heavier than you remember.

“It has always mattered” he declares, following your steps as you try to inch away from him. He calls your name in a weak plea, his hand coming to rest over your arm. “Look at me. Please”

You do. You turn back to him, and he looks at you like you will be slipping away from him any moment now, like you're just a ghost, like you're water in his bare hands. “Tell me you did not think of me all those years and I'll leave you alone.” he whispers feebly, face close to yours as he still holds onto your arm, and you can feel your breaths mingling from how close he is to you.

His unwavering gaze is locked on yours, desperately waiting for you to say something. Eventually, your lack of response speaks for itself, and he nods slightly. “That's what I thought.”

“Leto.”

His hands come to cup your face, holding it steady as with a sigh, his forehead rests against yours. Your eyelids fall shut under the weight of it all and you exhale softly, your hand wrapping around his wrist, stroking along his forearm.

“I have loved you since I met you. I should have found you and married you regardless.” he mutters, barely louder than a whisper. His declaration makes something flutter deep in your core, and you grimace like his words feel sour to hear. You should have done it differently, should have come back to Caladan after everything went back to normal after your mother's death.

“And your wife?” you rhetorically ask, with a dubious scoff.

“She's not– we never married.” he shakes his head, pulling away from your forehead to look back at you, your hand falling to your side again when you let go of his arm. His gaze and the way his eyebrows are angled weakly are conveying everything you need to know, confirming every conclusion you made.

Your lips part slightly, some part of you refusing to believe in what he's indirectly telling you, refusing to believe that he gave up on some part of his life waiting for you.

“We were promised a marriage together, a life together” he continues, taking hold of your hand, fingers lacing with yours tentatively. “I always hoped you would come back and we would resume our life together where it stopped.”

“Now still?” you weakly ask, equally pained and somehow flattered that he never really got over you.

Again, the lack of answer and his previous actions prove the point, and you hold his hand tighter when you swallow with difficulty. Your other hand slightly trembles when you reach to touch his face, settling to rest at his bearded cheek, and you smile weakly as you trace the lines that you never got to witness appear.

“We were so young” you smile, drawing one out of him. The corners of his lips turn upwards as his hand covers your own over his face, pulling it to bring it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles softly, the feeling of his warm breath over your skin taking you years back.

“Don't go back.” he begs against your hand, his voice wavering a little. There’s a glint in his eyes as his gaze darts up at you that makes it impossible for you to consider refusing and giving up on him again. “You belong here.”

Your eyebrows knit in uncertainty as you tear your gaze away from him, looking at the endless view again. You can't help but overthink every consequence coming back to Caladan is going to involve, for you as much as for Leto, and especially for his own concubine that is at this point already long forgotten by him.

This is unfair, but some part of you acknowledges your younger selves feelings and remembers how devastated you were to leave him; leaving again while knowing that he still cares after so many years and regrets not marrying you may hurt even more.

“This will make people talk, Leto.” you wince, looking back at him.

He shakes his head carefreely. “Let them.” he affirms with a dismissive scoff as his hands settle over your hips. You grin softly as he pulls you closer, and a soft exhale leaves your mouth when your arms wrap around his neck.

He takes a while to admire your face, how it has changed despite still remaining the one of the woman he fell in love with long ago.

When he kisses you, it is the exact same way he used to when you were young.

—

SUPPORT YOUR FANFICS WRITERS, REBLOG, LEAVE A COMMENT, IT IS WHAT KEEPS US GOING!!!!

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yesttoheaven · 6 months

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I watched DUNE PART 2 today and I felt like a widow 😭 THAT'S NOT FAIR!!!

#dune part two #duke leto atreides #leto atreides #leto atreides x reader #oscar isaac #oscar issac characters

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gladiatorcunt · 6 months

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summary: the discovery of a long hidden planet operating outside of the emperor’s rule threatens to upend the balance between the great houses and shift the tides of war. (ongoing series)

pairings: paul atreides x reader , chani x reader, leto atreides x reader, lady jessica x reader, irulan x reader, feyd rautha x reader (AFAB crown heir!reader)

cw: reverse harem type crack treated seriously, cosmic horror elements, undecided/possibly ambiguous endgame, dark/yandere behavior & themes, comedic undertones, dark & nsfw content, canon compliant as much as possible but there will be gaps in my memory, past leto & jessica (they split after she became a reverend mother)/past paul & chani, each character pursues reader separately, oc planet & oc house for reader, pretend like it still makes sense for leto to be there, don’t think too hard about the logistics of this in general, vintage sci fi inspired, i just wanted to have a silly unrealistic series where it’s all about the reader lmao

series masterlist:

coming soon !

1. stardust fallout

10.

tag list (ask to be added or removed, NO MINORS):

youngestxhearts, tian-monique, angel-gabriella, isnt-itstrange, flower-frog, aerangi, saturnhas82moons, ch0co1atech1p, mcmisbehaving, zoeaxrodriguez22, hellomadamebutterfly, sh4d0w69he4rt, moonsoulk, skythighs, laennetargaryenskywalker, nexilismirus, howibecameabadassbitch, hoely-maria, aubs444, timhalamet, allison-119, your-favorite-god, homopheli, droopycoquette

- faetreides 2024

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hoedamn-eron · 11 months

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duke leto - breeding

You're newly married to the Duke of Caladan, and you must create an heir.

Warnings: 18+, minors, DNI. Arranged marriage (and because of that, he's a bit cold at the beginning). Breeding kink. Age gap, but it's legal. Small, teeny tiny, praise kink. Also, teeny tiny Dom!Leto. Word count: 1,243 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

This was originally a part of my Kinktober list but now it's just a stand alone.

Your marriage to Duke Leto Atreides had been a political one, of course.

After all, you were sixteen years his junior, and his heart already belonged to Lady Jessica, the mother of his son, Paul. If he’d had a choice, he would have married Lady Jessica, but that would get no gain. The only reason the two of you were wed was to unite your Houses, that trading between your planets would be easier and beneficial if there was an insider on Caladan.

You had taken it all in your stride. You had little say in how your future panned out, but you had heard many great things about Leto Atreides and how honourable he was. He was a just man, and a kind man, and you were sure that he would treat you with respect. You met the day before your wedding, had dinner together, where you’d made idle chat about your lives before you had met. Then you went your separate ways and didn’t see each other until you were to be wed.

You had had a grand party, where you barely got a word in to your new husband as you both were surrounded by congratulations from many guests and family members, even that night when he had taken you to bed, he had said few words, the implication of your futures weighing heavy on him. You had the feeling he would have opted to not take you to your bedchambers if he had the choice, but no marriage was law until consummated. However, he had treated you well, as it was your first time, and he even helped clean up afterwards, but he left shortly after midnight to spend the rest of the night with Lady Jessica.

You hadn’t minded, really, that he had a concubine; she was there long before you were. You weren’t unfamiliar with rich and powerful men having wives and concubines. Like you said, Duke Leto treated you well, but you knew he would never love you like he loves her, but you weren’t there for love, you were there for duty.

Like right now, as he has you in your bedchambers, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks into you slowly.

He only ever visits your bedchambers twice a week, otherwise he’s with Lady Jessica. You and he both know that you must create a ‘legitimate’ heir, if not to rule Caladan, then to strengthen the relationship between Caladan and your home planet. You weren’t opposed to becoming a mother, and you cherished the nights you spent with Leto as you tried for a child.

Especially when he makes you feel so good.

“That’s it,” he mutters against your neck, as he grinds deliciously into you.

You gasp, your eyes closing as your head is thrown back against your pillow. “Please…faster…”

Your words fall on deaf ears as he doesn’t change his pace. He moves with you, his hard cock thrusting in and out of you, leaning on his left forearm above your head, his right hand trailing along your waist leaving a path of fire in its wake. Something’s different. It shouldn’t feel like this, he belongs to another. He shouldn’t be saying these things to you, about how good you’re making him feel, how good you’re taking him. How you’re always so willing to help him with making an heir.

He pauses as you involuntarily let out a loud, deep moan, and clench around him. You’d both never explicitly said the obvious; that the only reason you go to bed together is to make an heir, it was just always known. But now, as he pants into your sweat sheened neck, telling you about how he’s going to stuff you and make you a mother, you’re practically dripping on the sheets…and he can feel it.

Leto lifts himself to look down at you, but you can’t meet his eye. You can already feel your cheeks warming, and you’re mortified. He keeps looking at you as he slowly starts thrusting again, and you close your eyes as the pleasure builds back up again. You can’t look at him, not now. But he has other ideas.

Your eyes snap open as you feel him hold your jaw firmly, forcing you to look at him. He’s so intense, you feel the urge to look away from him.

“No,” he demands, and your eyes immediately look back him. “You look at me. Keep looking at me.”

You let out a whimper as his hips speed up. “Y-yes, your Grace.”

“You’re doing so well,” he mutters, and gives out his own groan as you squeeze around him again. “So, so well sweetheart.”

You let out a noise that was between a whine and a sob. He’d never been so…affectionate before. Your orgasm was brewing, and he seemed nowhere near ready to finish. Your hips rocked with his as you felt every delicious caress his cock offered you. “Don’t stop. Please.” You were pretty sure you were clawing your nails in his back but you were so out of it, you couldn’t tell.

“I would never,” Leto said, looking in your eyes, and you believed him. “I’m going to keep going until you are filled with me. We’re not stopping until you are with child. My child.”

“Fuck!” you cried as your climax hits you hard. You still beneath him, your eyes closing as your mouth hangs open, the intense pleasure becomes all-encompassing, radiating outwards from your core. It's as if a floodgate of sensations opens, and a rush of euphoria spreads through your body. It's a release of tension, a peak of pleasure that can feel like a sweet explosion of sensation.

You’re positive you black out, as you come to your orgasm subsides, a sense of deep relaxation and contentment overtakes you, but Leto has released your jaw and is buried in your neck again, groaning your name as his hips slam into you with such force, you were certain he would leave bruises. You thread your fingers through his salt and pepper curls, and you give a whimpered, “Leto…”

He lets out a loud, guttural moan before his hips still in you, then give a few small, precise thrusts as he cums deep into you. He soon goes limp on top of you, his forearm holding him up as not to crush you. You pant as you look at the ceiling above you, the sudden feeling of panic in your chest overtaking. That was incredibly inappropriate. You used less-than-ladylike language, you’d called him by his name. You’d marked his back. You were sure Lady Jessica would have your head –

You both let out a groan as he pulls out of you, and you feel your combined fluids drip out of you. You’re about to apologise to him but you let out a loud gasp as Leto grabs the back of your thighs and practically folds you in half before pushing his fingers into your wet and sensitive pussy. You’re gasping and you’re about to question him but the words fall flat on your tongue, seeing how strongly he’s staring at you.

“Do not move,” he demands of you.

You nod your head at him. “Yes, your Grace.”

He gives you a small grin, his fingers moving just that much deeper into you, causing a small moan to escape your lips. “I think, now, you can call me Leto. We are married, after all.”

#duke leto x reader #duke leto atreides x reader #leto atreides x reader #dune 2021 #oscar isaac

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 6 months

Note

33 in hand holding with leto?

Sorry this took so long nonnie!

33. bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go

Warnings: Angst; pining; brief wound description

"Leave us."

The sound of his voice makes your stomach churn with nerves. Your eyes flit to Gurney's just in time to see the thin press of his lips, and his warning frown—don't shoot your mouth off, not now. He pats your knee before he rises from the chair across from yours. You don't have to turn to see whatever looks pass between him and the Duke. You can only hope that he offers another warning, but you can't be sure. Gurney has an allegiance to the Duke that he doesn't have to you.

You're a fellow soldier, and you have his respect, but the Duke rose him from the hellish Harkonnen pit and gave him a new life.

You force yourself to focus on your breathing as you hear the door shut behind Gurney, leaving you alone with—

You don't dare look at Leto as he lowers himself to sit in front of you.

He's silent as he takes stock of the supplies that Gurney had laid out to tend to your wound, the gaping cut that runs the length of your palm where you'd stopped a knife from connecting with Leto's neck. Gurney has already cleaned it, laying the wound plain for his Grace.

Leto takes a jar of salve up, removing the lid and allowing the sharp, sterile scent to fill the air between the two of you. Your heart leaps as he cradles your hand in his, and scoops a hearty amount out. It's going to sting, but you resolve to sit still and stone-faced through it all.

You wait for the rebuke, the scolding that you acted recklessly. You wait for him to tell you that your blood is spilled across his desk, his documents. You wait for him to tell you that he would have handled it without need for your intervention.

Your answers sit ready on your tongue. Your act was not reckless, it was necessary. You've spilled blood for the House of Atreides, and this is no different. Copies of documents can be made; desks can be cleaned or removed. There is only one of him, and he cannot be replaced or replicated. You're certain that he could have handled it. You know that it is a quick man, strong, and capable.

But you had seen the knife, and you had leapt without thinking. You hadn't given a second thought between putting yourself between him and harm's way.

Leto caps the salve again, reaching for a thick roll of bandages next. You fight to keep your palm open despite the prickle of the medicine itching your aching skin.

You finally allow yourself to glance at him as his hones in on wrapping the bandage. You can feel him moving slowly, wrapping your hand with care. His lashes sweep across the apples of his cheeks; his lips are set in a grim purse; his jaw is tight. With each pass of the wrapping, he draws in a soft breath and sighs it out again. You can feel him tuck the edge in securely, and nearly flinch when his gaze lifts to hold yours.

Neither of you speak as you sit there, your hand still cradled in his, his thumb sweeping across the side of your palm, away from the wound.

"...Do not do it again."

It's a warning, and a plea. It hits you in the heart, and in that moment, you know that you cannot follow his order.

You will do it again. You will do it again and again and again until every threat is neutralized, or until you draw your last breath.

But if voicing the lie will help him sleep; if it'll lessen those dark, growing circles beneath his eyes; if it'll keep you on his detail, where you can ensure his safety—

"I won't."

#Leto Atreides x Reader #Leto Atreides x You #Leto Atreides/Reader #Leto Atreides/You #Leto Atreides fic #Leto Atreides imagine #asks #replies #anon #requests

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ivystoryweaver · 10 months

Text

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

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

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.

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

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.'

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

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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