#dune fan fiction

[melodygatesauthor]

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

Main Masterlist

[eyelessfaces]

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.

—

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[anystalker707]

Midnight sneak-outs

Pairing: Paul Atreides x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: You've just moved to Arrakis. Some distraction is nice, even if it involves your hidden relationship being discovered. Tags: he's very sweet / lots of kissing / hand job / this is not about 15yo Paul A/N: i've been writing less, sorry. i've been working out+working+studying, spending from 7am to 10pm out of the house, it's harsh

MASTER LIST

          The air of Arrakis was thick and dry, enough to make your nose burn and threaten to start bleeding if you were outdoors without protection during certain hours of the day. It was very different from Caladan, uncomfortably so. You missed the cold breezes, the hikes along the woods, sleeping while it rained outside. The fact there was no way to escape this made you feel a little claustrophobic, but you tried your best not to be unpleasant, since the Atreides weren’t even obligated to bring you in the first place, but they couldn’t deny Paul’s requests, after all. You had to see the good side of it—even if it was hard and practically impossible. Arrakis seemed to trap you among its sands, even more so with how the Emperor had articulated that; it was just a one-way trip.

On the other hand, Paul seemed quite excited about it. He showed you some tools gifted to him by Duncan, the books he had found around. It was an excitement you couldn’t mirror, though you didn’t want to bring him down with it, since he’d always been so obsessed over Arrakis, extremely fascinated with it.

Paul looked over his shoulder as he walked over to the trees outside, ensuring you followed. “They say each tree consumes the same amount of water as five men. There are twenty!” He widened his eyes briefly as he placed a hand on the tree’s trunk, turning around to face you, with his free hand behind his back.

You furrowed your eyebrows, silently observing the lines of trees through squinted eyes under the harsh sunlight. They seemed sacred, holy. Their apparent aging and disposition—plus how they seemed cared for—demonstrated they held great importance. You looked into the horizon, trying not to dwell too much on the fact there were no mountains surrounding you; no hills, no woods.

“They’re huge,” you said with a hum, squinting your eyes more while looking at the top of the one you two were next to. “Are we supposed to be out here at this time of the day?” The heat felt suffocating, and unlike the cold from Caladan, you could barely escape it.

Paul shrugged, also squinting his eyes, though he was under the tree’s shadow, so you moved and joined him. It didn’t make much of a difference, and inside was probably a lot better, but being with Paul there for a little longer wouldn’t hurt. It was worth it. His eyes followed you, and his hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together to pull you closer. Paul took your other hand as well while leaning back against the tree.

“Are you feeling okay? We can head back inside,” Paul said cautiously, squeezing your hands as his eyes roamed over your features, green irises scanning your face, a search for something you couldn’t identify. Maybe you didn’t want to.

“Weather,” you said with a hum, taking a deep breath, but it failed to calm you down or do anything that mattered. The air was hot, almost burning your airways as they filled your lungs.

Paul seemed convinced, but he still looked at you as if trying to see past the armor you’d built, though he didn’t pry a lot, respecting the distance you imposed. Shaking his head, he pulled you closer instead, close enough to let his forehead rest on your shoulder and press a couple of kisses to it through the fabric. The worry that Paul usually only carried silently was not a little more evident as he stood there with you, trying to figure out how to help without suffocating you even more.

“Let’s head back inside,” Paul said, pulling you away from your thoughts. “We can go for a walk during the night. I want to explore around for a little, so it’ll be great, right? I want your company.” He lifted his head and looked at you in the eyes. A smile tugged on his lips after you nodded, eventually disappearing when he pressed his lips to yours in a soft peck.

The brief contact had your heart skip a beat and gave you comfort, even if just a little bit, even if just for a fleeting moment, and calmed the turmoil inside Paul’s chest.

          Arrakis was colder at night, and the great temperature variance was already predictable, given the planet’s characteristics. Still, it wasn’t bad. It was comfortable and refreshing, and the fact you didn’t have to wear formal clothes during the night made it more enjoyable, giving you a welcome false sensation of freedom. In contrast, Paul’s hand was warm against your own as you two walked down the halls of Arrakeen in deadly silence.

Hesitant steps eventually gained confidence once you two walked a good distance from Paul’s room, loosening your grip on each other’s hands comfortably. A guard or another walked by, but none of them seemed to notice you and Paul merged with the shadows, walking down the wide halls of the place, or maybe they didn’t want to.

It was quiet, unlike during the day, and it made Arrakis feel better, for some reason. Paul seemed as excited as he was during the day, pointing out details of the architecture or leaning against windowsills to take a look outside, peeking at the night sky and muttering about it. It was sweet, really. You spent more time looking at his face than at what Paul pointed out, making a light red tone coat his cheeks whenever his gaze caught yours.

Paul sighed as he ran his fingers along the drawings sculpted into the wall, walking each time slower until he stopped walking. “It’s pretty, don’t you think?” He looked at you again, a small smile lingering on his lips as he noticed how you paid attention to the wall as well.

“Yeah. Really catches your attention,” you muttered, meeting his eyes in the relative darkness and squeezing his hand.

Paul didn’t return his attention to the wall, instead holding your gaze. His hand tightened around yours in return, and it was practically a sign for you—a small sound escaped his lips as you stepped closer, compelling him to back up until his back met the wall. The corner where walls met was a discreet and darker spot in the hall where practically no one spared a look, so it would be even harder to be spotted there at such hours when the moons were high in the sky.

Paul’s breath fanned warmly against your skin as you leaned in, and you two just stood there in silence for a long moment, something between reaching a silent agreement with each other and checking if there was anyone nearby. From there, you didn’t need a lot of thought—your lips met Paul’s in a soft kiss, primarily tentative and gentle. His lips were warm and soft, just like you were used to, but something about kissing him in a hidden spot in the halls of Arrakeen felt different, compelling a new type of excitement to stir in the bottom of your stomach. Making out in a dark corner during such late hours of the night made everything better, the thrill and adrenaline that ran through your veins at the feeling of getting caught.

Your tongue ran along Paul’s bottom lip, snatching a soft sound from his lips, while his hand tightened around yours momentarily, hesitantly letting go so that his hand could hold on to your shoulder instead, to pull you closer to him. As Paul’s arms wrapped around your neck, he eventually melted into you, noticing your acceptance, his body tingling at the feeling of your arms firmly wrapped around his waist.

A soft sigh came from Paul the moment your tongue slipped past his lips to run along the back of his teeth and glide against his own, compelling his grip to grow tighter around you, with a new kind of urgency emerging at the deepening of the kiss, one you returned by pulling him closer and holding him tighter.  It could ruin your reputation, but it didn’t even matter now, not when you were lost in the way Paul kissed you, fingers gently caressing the back of your neck while his lips moved against yours in a perfect flow.

“Damn,” you whispered between kisses. Your attempt to catch your breath was disrupted by the continuous pecks that Paul kept pressing to your lips, arms tightening around your neck, so you ended up giving in and kissing once more, just enough to satisfy his need before your lips pressed to his jaw. Paul exhaled with a soft sound, arching his back to press more into you, groaning softly as he tilted his head to the side to give you more access to his neck and melted into your touch.

A sound echoed through the dark halls—a step? Door being closed? Weapon being adjusted? A shiver ran down your spine at the same time your blood drained to your feet, and Paul seemed to have the same reaction, both of you holding your breaths while standing as still as possible. It could be unimportant, just as much as it could be significant.

Your eyes met in the darkness, your breaths held in the deafening silence until your lungs burned, and you decided that if there were someone, they would’ve walked away. Or maybe that was just your brain convincing you to kiss Paul more, but did it really matter right now? The worries were slowly buried in the back of your head once your lips met his skin again, making his breath quiver. His arms slowly relaxed around your neck, and he was melting into your touches once again, whispering your name in a sweet and needy voice that made your heart flutter.

As much as you wanted to nibble and suck on Paul’s neck, it was a risk you didn’t want to take, even if most of his attires included turtle-neck shirts and vests. The young heir couldn’t be marked, couldn’t be touched, nothing that would ruin the Atreides’ reputation, and even so, he still indulged himself in a ‘hidden’ relationship with you, risking it all whenever proposing any sort of adventure that led you to situations like right now.

“I’m…” Paul’s breath hitched as his hands tugged on your shirt. A soft hum came from him as he shifted, managing to slip a leg between your own, allowing himself to grind against your thigh with a muffled moan. “Please,” he whispered, voice muffled by your shoulder as he pressed closer.

“No, we are—”

“Please…” Paul groaned. He buried his face in your neck, kissing a trail up to your lips, giving you a peck whenever you tried to argue against him. Who were you to resist that needy tone anyway? The way he made your heart flutter whenever giving you soft kisses, trying his best to convince you. A sigh escaped your lips before you leaned in again, taking Paul’s lips in another kiss, his bottom lip quickly caught between your teeth.

The thin fabric of Paul’s night pants was strained, tented up with the erection that ground against your thigh stubbornly until you gave his hips a harsher squeeze so that he would stay still—he did, with a whine. Among messy kisses, Paul moaned softly, trying to keep as quiet as possible while your hand slipped into his underwear and wrapped around his cock, warm and firm.

Part of you cursed Paul for having made you do that there, go all the way across the palace just to make out, but there was a different feeling to it, you couldn’t deny. Even if the chances were low, someone could still catch the two of you, and raise a scandal. Just the fact you could get caught by someone who didn’t know about your relationship, in general, made your heart race, something stirring in your lower stomach as your teeth sank harder into Paul’s lip. He whimpered, but the pain was nothing compared to the feeling that sparkled up his spine when your hand started moving around his cock.

Of course, it wasn’t the best thing in the world. It was a little stiff, but eventually better once your thumb ran across his tip, using the droplets of pre-cum to ease the friction, even if it didn’t do much.

“You’re dirty, Paul,” you whispered into his ear, squeezing his cock as you pumped him, trying to contain every involuntary thrust of his by pinning him against the wall with your free hand by the hip. His hands clung to your shoulders, most likely leaving scratches behind, despite the shirt in the way. “Does it feel good? Hm? Tell me?”

A soft whimper came from Paul in response, just at the same time his hips thrust into your hand. “Yes,” Paul groaned, voice strained as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder. His attempts to keep quiet result in choked gasps and shaky breaths, but it doesn’t stop the occasional moans from escaping his lips, quiet and needy, sending sparkles down your spine. “Feels so good,” he mumbled in a shaky voice; his cock twitched in your hand, leaking more.

You knew where to touch already, the pace that made Paul quiver and had his knees go weak, so all you did was to measure well how to use that, with slow movements and grazing your thumb against a spot under the tip of his cock until he could barely hold himself together while clinging to you.

Paul mumbled something that sounded like your name, incoherent, muffled against your shoulder, which was already damp from how he pressed his mouth to it to muffle his sounds—or at least try to. It was already growing sloppy with the amount of pre-cum that dripped onto your hand, and Paul was practically doing the whole job by himself already, fucking your hand while chasing his own release. You couldn’t deny the way it made you feel, the way you swallowed dryly whilst feeling him against you, but you were already going too far by now anyway. Maybe you could do more when you headed back to his room.

“Nngh, I can’t—” Paul gasped before his cock twitched more, and there it was—he came with a soft cry, quickly limiting himself to a hiss as his nails sank into your skin through your shirt. “Fuck,” he groaned, trying to keep quiet and hold his breath while riding through his orgasm, and he finally did so, with a soft whimper. His chest heaved up and down to catch his breath, fingers slowly loosening around your shirt, and he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze, blinking a couple of times. “You’re way too good,” he mumbled with a soft groan, pressing a soft peck to your lips.

“Oh?” You chuckled, pulling your hand away, and Paul quickly took care of adjusting his clothes again. “I’m not the one who suggested this, in the first place.” You glared lightly at him, and Paul shook his head in exaggerated frustration that immediately changed into a different expression when you started licking his cum away from your hand, humming faintly. “What?”

“Y’know—”

“Chambers. Now.”

[avenging-fandoms]

I was wondering if you could writing something where y/n and timothée are sleeping together and she starts talking because she's having a wet dream with him so he listens to her and makes fun and is dom idkw only if you want thanks🧚🏼‍♀️

your body laid flat on the bed on your stomach, one leg over timothee's as your arm draped over his stomach. timothee laid on his back, arm over his eyes with his hand on top of yours. there was a slight breeze from your fan that circled the room, your cat leaving the room to drink some water and sleep on the couch.

you whimpered and started to stir, moving back to your side and laying on your back. you mumble something and timothee moved his arm from his eyes, and peeked them open when he heard you speak. he watched as your body moved, his hand rubbing up and down your side as he watched your face turn, thinking you were having a nightmare.

"fuck me, please" is what made his sleepy eyes shoot right open. he rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times, getting a clear image of his beautiful fiance next to him. you wore a tank top that showed off your hard nipples, and just your underwear that timothee could see was soaked thanks to the moonlight.

"more, timmy, fuck yes" your fist gripped the sheets and he covered his smirk, running his fingers up and down your stomach. your body reacted to his touch and he smiled with victory, fingers pressing down under the hem of your underwear.

you wake with a small gasp, timothee not removing his hands. "good dream?" he teased and you felt your cheeks get warm.

"you heard.. you heard me sleep talking?"

"i think you were sleep fucking, baby" he smirked and kissed your jaw, down your neck and your fingers grip his hair. "'more, timmy, fuck me please'" he mocked your voice and you hit his shoulder. "what did you want more of?"

"you" you whimper and he shakes his head, pushing his fingers farther down.

"you've got to be a little more specific, baby. i'm right here"

"your fingers! i want you to fuck me with your fingers" you sigh and kiss him deeply, rolling your hips up into his fingers.

"was that so hard?" he smirked and pushed two fingers inside of you, making you gasp and grab his wrist. you pull your lips in between your teeth, moving your hips up into his hand. “so needy, baby. tell me, what was happening in your dream?” timothee’s hand stops moving and you whimper, trying to move his hand but he stayed still. “tell me, and i’ll keep touching you” he whispered in your ear and bit your earlobe.

“it-it was our wedding night. you.. you were underneath..” timothee’s middle finger slowly started circling your clit, his eyes hooded as he watched your lip quiver.

“dreaming of our wedding day already, hm? i just asked you to be my wife 2 days ago” you smile and turn your head, kissing him deeply, straddling his waist. his hands gripped your ass, smacking it a few times and your hips grind down into him. “what was i doing under your dress, huh?” timothee sat up and wrapped his hand around your neck, his thumb rubbing over your jaw and lip.

“you.. you pushed my dress up and ate me out underneath my wedding dress” your hips grind against his hard on and timothee smiles, flipping you onto your back and pulling off your underwear.

“well why don’t i practice for the big day?” timothee spread your legs and let out a satisfied breath as his fingers rubbed up and down your soaked pussy. you gripped his hair and pulled his face forward, his mouth latching onto you. his tongue lapped your clit, middle finger fucking you slowly.

“fuck, timmy, more!” you beg and he slid his ring finger into you as well, moving his fingers faster as he watched your thighs trembling more and more. your panting got heavier, and timothee curled his fingers, and that’s exactly what you needed. timothee’s thumb rubbed your clit and you suffocated him with your thighs, riding out your high with timothee’s slow clit rubs.

you released the grip on his head and timothee sat up, your eyes falling to his hard on, and you were practically drooling. your fingers quickly pulled down his underwear and spitting on it, grabbing his hips and pulling him into you. “so needy for my cock, baby” timothee kicked off his underwear and you put timothee’s cock in you, the both of you letting out a moan.

timothee thrusted his hips against yours, looking down at you. “you are so gorgeous, baby. so fucking pretty. you take my dick so good baby” his words made your stomach flutter, his hands bringing your hips up so your shoulders were still on the bed.

the new position had your fingernails poking holes into the sheets and tearing them as his dick his your spot over and over. “faster, don’t stop, fuck!” timothee granted your demand, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his hips slapped into yours. your eyes rolled so hard to the back of your head and you pushed timothee off with your feet, body twitching furiously as your vision was blurred with black and stars.

“baby..” you regained your breath and held a hand over your mouth as you look at timothee. “yn, look what you did..” your eyes scanned his body, watching as he drips from you squirting all over him. your face turned red and you hid behind your hands, rolling on your stomach. “oh no, there’s nothing to be ashamed of” timothee laid on top of you, sliding his cock into you slowly.

“oh my..” you gasp and timothee moved your hair out of your face, kissing your cheek as he moved his hips. “fill me up, timmy. put your cum in me”

“fuck baby, oh my god” he whimpered in your ear, wrapping an arm around your neck and your cheek resting on his forearm. timothee let out a whimper and bit your jaw, pressing his hips deep into yours as he filled you with his seed. he kissed your face and shoulders, pulling away from you and kissing your back, massaging your hips. “let’s go shower, beautiful”

timothee helped you up and turned the water on the perfect temperature for you, the both of you stepping into the shower. timothee smoothed his hands over your hair and then his. you put some of his shampoo in your hands, scrubbing it into his curls. he left out a sigh and closed his eyes, rubbing his thumbs over your ribs.

you then shampooed yourself, timothee laughing as he takes over and turns you into george washington. “what, you don’t want to bang george washington?”

“please never say bang again” he cringed and you laughed, rinsing out your shampoo. “ahh! baby please get out of the way, there’s shampoo in my eyes” you laughed and held onto the bar as you were pushed to the side. timothee viciously rubbed his face and hair free of shampoo. “im so sorry, but i thought i was dying”

you both finished your shower routine and got out, drying off and getting into new pajamas. you in underwear and timothee’s shirt, and timothee in just his underwear. you snuggled into timothee’s arms after you change the sheets, his fingers playing with your hair as you both fall asleep to the sound of your fan.

[blacksunrequiem]

Imagine Feyd with that typical fashionable jewellery-adorned headdress in the Dune universe. I'M FROTHING~

Source: V Man Austin Butler F/W 22 Digital Cover Credits for this picture: Austin Butler (Model), Collier Schorr (Photographer), Stephen Gan (Editor), Gro Curtis (Fashion Editor/Stylist), Johnnie Sapong (Hair Stylist), Holly Silius (Makeup Artist), Greg Krelenstein (Casting Director) Brands in this picture: Ludovic de Saint Sernin

[trevorme]

Lady Margot Fenring / "Dune"

[my-little-ship]

I just watched Dune and all I see is Regulus Black.

[megraen]

Hey Feyd fans.

I’m looking for someone who can BETA read my Feyd x OC fic for me.

Shoot me a message if you’re interested.

Thank you!

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

the thing about Dune 2 is that it made my mom deeply, genuinely angry for fascinating reasons, the worldbuilding and plotline and historical significance of the story gives me chills, but the only two characters I actively cared about both die in the first film and so who do I have to care about?

[winniethewife]

My requests are open!

Fandoms I write for:

Star wars

Marvel

Oscar Isaac

Dune

Spiderverse

(Open to others but I might decline based on comfort with the material)

ASK BOX IS OPEN.

[bean-writes]

Now taking ficlet/one-shot requests!

Comment your request (any fandom, genre, theme, whatever)!

I'm curious to see what you guys ask for!

[thatmomwitchfriend]

It's a Slumber Party, and you're all invited!!!

Welcome to That Mom Witch Friends slumber party, where we can partake in all sorts of slumber party debauchery 🤪 Feel free to drop into my inbox and request any of the following activity prompts, my character list is as follows:

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Santiago Garcia (TF)

Will Miller (TF)

Benny Miller (TF)

Frankie Morales (TF)

Jonathan Levy (SFAM)

Eric Draven (The Crow)

Paul Atreides (Dune)

Duke Leto Atreides (Dune)

Din Djarin (Mando)

Moon Knight system

Please choose from the following slumber party prompts to submit with:

7 minutes in heaven mini fic

character mood board (please specify situation/relationship style)

situational HC requests

FMK (fuck, marry kill)

spin the bottle

scary movie date mini pic (please specify movie and theater or home)

desktop wallpaper

No end date chosen yet, I will update this post here as well as posting a separate announcement for closing!

Thank you all in advance for coming and playing along!

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Confessions of an Imperial Concubine

Chapter Ten: I Promsied Myself I Wouldn’t Let You Complete Me

AO3 Author’s note/glossary/info one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven epilogue

I know a love like this will end in tragedy. You know every kiss suspendin’ gravity. Burns us both to love this close; we lose ourselves and I know we won’t get out alive.- Marianas Trench, Only the Lonely Survive

Since her accidental mental confession, Sera had been very careful about not giving voice to her feelings towards Paul. But four months into pregnancy, it was… difficult.

She hadn’t meant to fall in love with him. Truly, she hadn’t. There were still parts of him, parts of his life, that she was disgusted with— the concubines and the war, namely, though she understood the reasoning behind the two in a way she hadn’t before. As it happened, emperors couldn’t refuse concubines without insulting their families and were gifted them upon his ascension to the throne. As for the war, she’d learned that Paul had seen the future if he were to not take the throne, and apparently, the path he’d chosen had less death than the alternative. She was Hetaera now, and he never so much as looked at anyone else, that was true, but she knew he’d tire of her before too much longer and return to Caroline and Annette and the others.

He didn’t love her, and that was fine. Sera didn’t mind, not really. Well, alright, she did to an extent, but it was nothing she hadn’t expected. She’d always known he would never love her. It was only after she’d gotten to know him, truly know him, that she’d wanted otherwise from him, that she’d wanted him to love her. 

Paul doted on her a great deal, that was true. She had the finest gowns in existence, and more jewels and soostones than she knew what to do with. He gave her rare books and, after he’d discovered her pregnancy, had had one of the rooms in their shared suite turned into a library for her. He only wanted the highest quality foods for her, and it had therefore taken a great deal of convincing for him to allow her to eat street food when she was craving it. The savory delicacies he so enjoyed feeding her by hand were lovely in their own right, but sometimes, she just wanted the stew her grandmother used to make, or the deep fried sweetbreads she’d occasionally managed to swipe when the markets on Beakkal were busy enough. Her parents used to feed her a great deal of bread, true, but nothing like the honey-sweetened fried wonders that street vendors sold, and she’d been craving them all the more in her pregnancy.

Each time Paul gave her a new dress, he took great pleasure in stripping it off her, kissing and sucking bruises into her bare skin as he went. He liked to hold her at night, tell her he’d never let her go, never let her leave him. When he thrust himself inside her, he would get so close to her that she sometimes forgot where she ended and he began. 

So yes, he doted on her a great deal, but he didn’t feel for her as she did for him, and truth be told, that was for the best. If he did, it would hurt all the more when he lost interest in her and returned to her sister concubines. But still, she adored him. 

She was disgusted with him, though. He’d fathered children with other women. Children she’d grown to care for. She’d grown to care for the women, too—women he owned—, and that made her feelings for him all the more difficult. 

But if she could only have him for this short time, she might as well enjoy it, she decided. So she cherished the sweet words he whispered to her, the nights he held her against him, kissing her bare skin and telling her how lovely she was, how pleased he was that he had her for his own, to be the one to father her children.

The thought of him with anyone else made her stomach churn and her skin crawl, but he was Emperor and could do as he wished. And anyway, she’d known what she was getting into when she’d first allowed him to kiss her.

Paul was still inside her the first time he’d asked her.

Or commanded her, to be more accurate.

His head was between her breasts, his lips against her skin. “Sera,” he murmured. She felt him prop himself up on his elbows as he gazed at her.

She hummed softly in response, not bothering to open her eyes. She was tired, the way she always was after he took her.

Cupping her cheek, Paul said, “Look at me, darling. Please.”

She adored when he called her that— darling. It made her feel tingly and content. She opened her eyes to find him smiling softly at her. “Sera,” he said again.

She looked at him expectantly.

“Be mine.”

She smiled contentedly at him. “I am yours.”

He shook his head, curls falling in his beautiful face. “No,” he murmured softly, “I want you to have a title no one else has. I want you as my High Concubine.”

Sera must’ve heard him wrong. She’d heard from the others that High Concubine was essentially a step down from Empress— the Emperor’s favorite, but with a title and headdress to go along with it. There was only ever one of them, and it was generally for life. There were even instances—rare instances, to be sure, but they certainly existed—of some of Paul’s predecessors marrying their High Concubines eventually. 

Many emperors went their entire reign without a High Concubine. Paul was well into his sixth year without one. He was the Emperor of the Known Universe. He’d been born into a Great House, had his family and status stolen from him— seen the death of all things and fought and bled his way to the throne to prevent it from happening, or so Sera had been told recently. And now he was telling her—a nameless little nobody from an insignificant little planet—that he wanted her for the rest of her life?

Unlikely. 

So yes, she must’ve heard him wrong.  

Her breathing stopped and she froze for several seconds before her eyes widened in shock.

“W— what?” she stuttered.

“I want you as my High Concubine,” Paul repeated, his smile widening.

Overcoming her shock and realizing what was happening—he was overtired and had lost his senses—, Sera rolled her eyes. He said the oddest things sometimes. “Oh, hush, Paul,” she scoffed. “Go to sleep. You know how illogical you get when you’re tired.”

He frowned. “I’m perfectly awake, thank you. I’ve wanted to ask you for weeks.”

“You didn’t ask me,” she pointed out, “you told me. And it’s nonsense anyway.”

“It’s not nonsense,” her lover insisted, taking her hand in his and pressing soft kisses to her knuckles. “I want you to belong to me, my darling.” More kisses. “My everything.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she snapped.

He sat up, pulling out of her in the process, his frown deepening as he looked down at her. “I’m not. I want to be with you. I want you to have a throne next to mine so that I can hold your hand. I want everyone to know what you are to me, to know how precious you are to me.”

“The last few are already the case,” Sera reminded him, “and as for the first, you have me sit in your lap most of the time anyway, whether you’re on your throne or not.”

He shook his head. “That’s not enough. I want to introduce you as my High Concubine. I want to see you bear my children.”

“You already introduce me as your Hetaera,” she reminded him helpfully, “and I will bear your children, you know that. I’m very obviously pregnant, as you can see,” she gestured to her stomach before continuing, “but I’m not the first woman to fulfill that role, and I certainly won’t be the last.”

Paul’s frown morphed into an expression of shock and offense. “I would never be unfaithful to you!”

She blinked at him. “I’m your concubine, Paul,” she said slowly, as if he were a child. “You have thirteen more of those, if you’ll recall. You can’t be unfaithful to me by sleeping with them.” The bitterness in her voice when she spoke of this possibilty betrayed how truly awful it made her feel. 

“I haven’t touched half of them,” he reminded her, “and you’re the most important one, you may as well already be my High Concubine—“

“Oh yes,” Sera cut in sarcastically, “Just over half. Very impressive restraint on your part.”

“I thought we were past this,” he told her. “I thought you understood that it meant nothing to me, that you’re the only one of them who’s ever been special to me in this way—“

She scoffed, looking off to the side. “Special to you? They’re the mothers of your children.”

“And you’ll be the mother of my heirs,” he said firmly. “More than that, you’ll be the mother of the only children I’ve truly wanted. I love my daughters, of course I do, but... With them, or their mothers, at least, it was an obligation and nothing more. I want children with you.”

“And you’ll have them,” she told him. “I’ve said as much. I’ll give you as many children as you please for as long as you want me.”

“For as long as I—“ Paul cut himself off. “Do you think I’m going to stop wanting you?”

Sera grimaced, considering his words. “I suppose you’ll probably summon me to your bed on occasion even after you’ve tired of me for the most part,” she mused. 

“No,” he said vehemently. “I want you. I don’t want anyone else, and that’s never going to change.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “You’re never going to look any older than you do now, glow-eyes,” she pointed out. “I’m going to age. You’ll lose interest by the time I’m forty at the absolute oldest. And even if you didn’t, you’re going to live a good two hundred years longer than me. So, like I said, this is ridiculous.”

Paul stared at her for several seconds before he spoke again. “Do you honestly think I would ever let that happen?”

“Even the Emperor of the Known Universe can’t control the aging process.”

“I absolutely can,” he informed her seriously. “I never intend to be without you. You must know that I wouldn’t allow you not to take spice.”

“Wouldn’t allow me? Since when do you tell me what I can and can’t do?” she snapped in irritation. 

“I’m the Emperor,” he reminded her. “I have the right to tell anyone what they can and can’t do. I could command you to be my High Concubine if I wanted to.”

“How dare—“

“But I would never do that,” he went on, reaching for her hand. She tried to snatch it away, but he was quick, his fingers wrapping around hers firmly. “I want you to want this just as much as I do. I want you to want me just as much as I want you.”

Sera sighed, closing her eyes on the frustration his face brought. “Paul…”

“Don’t you want to be with the man you love?” he asked softly, his voice barely even a whisper.

She froze, her eyes slowly opening.

“What?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell?” He was smiling softly at her, threading his fingers through hers. “I can see the future, the past, the present, and into people’s minds without even looking at them, and you thought I wouldn’t know when you fell in love with me?”

Well. That was true. He could do those things. Sera knew he could. Of course he’d be able to tell that she loved him. How could she have forgotten? She had hoped he wouldn’t be able to tell, wouldn’t notice how she felt. All this time, she’d been hoping that if she just didn’t project her thoughts of love at him, he wouldn’t figure it out.

Flushing and looking away, she said nothing for a moment. “How long have you known?”

He was silent for a beat. “Since Eden was born.”

God, he’d known how she felt for months. He’d known how she felt when he’d kissed her, when he’d taken her to bed… Sera clenched her eyes shut, her face flaming in humiliation. 

“It’s alright,” Paul assured her gently, cupping her cheek and turning her face to look at him again. “I knew you would.”

She frowned. “What’re you talking about?”

He paused as if in thought before seeming to come to a decision. “I knew you would love me long before I met you.”

“You had visions of it?” she breathed, eyes wide in shock.

He nodded. “I knew you were meant for me. I knew you’d love me.”

“So…” A nervous gulp. “That future you told me about. The one you described, of us together years from now, with children, that…”

He nodded silently.

“Paul, I—“

“Don’t you want that with me?” he asked insistently. “You do, I know you do, I can feel it.” Then, after several seconds, “Say yes, Sera. Say yes. Please.”

She sat up, pulling the blankets up to her shoulders. “I can’t,” she whispered, staring down at her lap.

“Why not?”

“It’s a lifelong contract, isn’t it?” she asked tentatively. “Agreeing to be High Concubine is for life?”

He smiled slightly at her, glancing briefly up at her hair where the headdress would sit if she accepted. “It is.”

“Then I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Paul frowned. “Why?” 

“Because you’ll tire of me eventually,” she whispered miserably. “I know you will.”

“I won’t,” Paul insisted firmly. “I’ll never have enough of you.”

Sera sighed. She didn’t know how else to get this across without being blunt. “I cannot pledge myself to a man who has other women at his disposal. I cannot pledge myself to a man who will father children with other women after I’m bound to him. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

He took both her hands then, lifting them to kiss her knuckles again, his blue-blue gaze boring into her. “Have I been with anyone else since I promised you I wouldn’t?” he asked softly, seriously. “Since our first night together, I have spent nearly each one after with you in my arms. You know that.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “for now. And soon, you’ll grow bored of me.”

He shook his head. “I’ll only ever want you.”

How can you possibly know that if you don’t love me?

“I know about your time with the Fremen,” she said softly, looking away.

She heard the confused frown in his voice when he spoke. “Everyone knows about that. I was with them for years.”

She shook her head, her curls falling in her face. Things were different on Beakkal. No one shared a bed if there was no emotion between them. It simply didn’t happen.

“Sera,” Paul cut into her thoughts gently, “what is it, darling? Tell me.”

He could be so stubborn when he wanted to know something.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she finally gave in. “The rites they have,” she explained, “I’ve read about them. I know you…”

“If you mean when they take spice,” Paul told her quietly, “I was present for that, yes, but I didn’t have you yet.” He reached for one of her hands again. “I didn’t love you yet.”

All thought left her mind, all breath her lungs.

“What?” she finally managed to choke out.

“I hadn’t fallen in love with you yet,” he told her, his gaze never leaving hers as he lifted the hand he held to press a soft, gentle kiss to her knuckles.

Now you’ve gone and mucked it up, she thought furiously. It’ll hurt like a bitch now, dammit.

“What’d the hell you go and do that for?” Sera demanded. 

Paul seemed amused at this. “Was I not supposed to?”

“No,” she hissed vehemently. “No, you weren’t.”

“And why not?”

“Because— because—“ she sputtered, “because it’ll hurt that much more when you decide you’re done with me!”

He crawled back on top of her, kissing her deeply. “Sera,” he said firmly when he pulled back to look at her, “hear me now: I will never be done with you. Never.” His hand slid between her legs again, stroking where she was still wet from how good he’d given it to her before.

“Don’t be jealous of anyone from my past,” he murmured. “As if any of those women could hold a candle to you, anyway.”

She huffed a wet, somewhat sardonic laugh. “And the men? Could the men hold a candle to me?”

He exhaled through his nose, the sound almost a chuckle. “There were no men,” he told her. “At least, not with me— but if there had been, it wouldn’t matter now.”

She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything.

“Sera,” he said softly. “Please, darling. Tell me what I have to do to get you to agree. Please.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Please,” he was practically begging. Despite this, he teased her with the tip of his cock at her entrance. “I’d give you the stars if you wanted them.”

She gasped, lifting her hips in an attempt to take him inside her. Desperate, her inhibitions gone, she admitted, “I just want you to love me back.”

That seemed to be too much for Paul, because he immediately thrust himself inside her to the hilt, leaning down to capture her lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. “I do,” he swore, beginning to roll his hips into hers. “I swear. My darling, my Sera. My love.”

She moaned and lifted her hips to meet his thrusts, lost to sensation. 

“I love you,” he insisted as he rocked his hips into hers. “I never want to be parted from you.” He stroked her cheek, nuzzling her nose with his. “I love your laugh; how loud it gets when you can’t keep it in.” Another thrust. “I love how the green in your eyes is only visible if you look closely, as if it’s for me and me alone.” Another. “I love that you spend hours reading and sometimes you don’t even notice how much time has passed.” Another. “I love the way you look at me, like I’m not the Emperor, but instead just a man you fell in love with.” Another.

“Paul—“ she gasped, her eyes filling with tears.

“Shh,” he hushed her gently, wiping the tears off her cheeks before they could fall. “Say yes, darling. Please. Say you’ll always belong to me.”

Sera reached up and tangled a hand in his hair, pulling him down to kiss her.

“I was yours before I even existed,” she told him ardently, needing him to understand, truly understand, how deep her feelings for him ran. “I’ve been yours since before time began, and I’ll be yours after it stops.”

He reached down with one hand and held her hip tightly, squeezing the flesh and kneading the skin there. “If you’re mine,” he growled into her mouth, “if you’ve always been mine, then why do you refuse me?”

“I’m afraid,” she admitted.

“Why?” Paul demanded, kissing her neck, her collarbones, her breasts. “I want nothing more than to take care of you. Why do you fear that?”

“I’m terrified you’ll hurt me,” she confessed tearfully. “You’ll break my heart, and I’ll let you. I can’t help myself.”

“Sera,” he groaned, holding her close as he rocked his hips. “I’d never hurt you. I’d slaughter anyone who tried to hurt you, tried to take you from me.”

She frowned at that.

“I told you that first night that I wanted every piece of you,” he reminded her, thrusting a bit harder now. “Do you remember how you pledged yourself to me? Promised you’d never leave me?”

“Yes,” she gasped, lifting her pelvis to meet his. 

“I want your heart, too,” he practically growled. “Give me your heart, Sera.”

“You have it,” she whimpered, clutching at him, needing him closer. “I never wanted you to, but you have it anyway.”

Paul cupped her cheek and kissed her with such passion it was almost terrifying. “Don’t regret what we have,” he begged. “Please don’t tell me you regret this. That you regret me.”

Wrapping her legs around his, she breathed, “I could never regret you, Paul.”

He groaned at her admission and slid his arms beneath her to pick her up slightly off the mattress and hold her against him. “Then say yes, my love,” he pleaded. “Don’t deny me this. I’ll give you anything you ask for. I swear it.”

Sera bit her lip anxiously, considering. He clearly wanted this with her. He wouldn’t have asked otherwise, nor would he be so insistent. He didn’t even seem to mind that she loved him— in fact, he seemed thrilled by it. She wanted him for the rest of her life, of course she did, but did he really love her?

“Paul,” she said softly, and he hummed against her neck in acknowledgement. Taking a deep breath and trying to find the words she needed over the exquisitely distracting feeling of him moving within her, she finally asked, “Have you ever been in love before?”

He froze, and she realized he hadn’t been expecting that question.

Pulling back from her to look in her eyes, he searched her face. Finally, “Once.”

Jealousy churned in her stomach. “What happened?”

“I left for Arrakis,” he informed her. “She married another man.”

She took a deep breath before speaking. “Did she love you?”

“Yes,” he admitted, “but she’s happy with her husband now.”

Sera sighed, closing her eyes and nodding.

He pulled her close again, his bare chest against her own. “Don’t be jealous, love,” he murmured into her mess of curls. “I haven’t thought of her in years.” A kiss to her hair. “I only want you.”

She couldn’t help it— tears filled her eyes again. She’d gotten so goddamn emotional after getting pregnant.

“Say yes,” Paul begged once more, rocking his hips slowly into hers, his length moving deliciously inside her. “Please, my darling. Please. Don’t deny me this.”

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his neck softly. “Okay,” she finally acquiesced. “If you really do love me, then… okay.”

Paul held her tighter, driving into her a bit harder but not faster. She moaned low in her throat, and he kissed her breasts.

“I never would’ve let you leave me regardless, you know,” he informed her, each thrust harsher than the last. “You were always meant to belong to me, and I to you.” 

Joy filled Sera's heart, and he peppered her face with kisses.

“But now,” he went on, “now everyone will know that you will always be my woman, that no one can take you from me. One look at you and they’ll know you are above all others. You will be the mother of my heirs, of the next emperor. You will be by my side until I leave this world, and I will follow you wherever we go after that.”

She was outright sobbing by that point, overcome with emotion, and he stroked her hair reassuringly. “I love you so much, Paul,” she sniffled. “I can’t hold it in anymore. I’ve tried, but I can’t. I love you too much to keep it in.”

“Good,” he growled, taking her lower lip between his teeth and tugging gently as he drove into her. “Never hide it from me again. Never, you understand?” When she nodded, he went on, “I want to feel it. I want to hear it. Let me feel your love, my darling, and I’ll shower you with mine.”

Sera smiled through her tears, planting her feet on the mattress and lifting her hips to meet his. 

“I love you,” she breathed. “I love you, Paul.”

“And I love you,” he growled, grasping her hips and taking her roughly now. “Oh, Sera,” he moaned, her name sounding like a prayer on his lips. “I’m going to cum, darling. I want to cum inside you.”

“Fill me,” she encouraged.

“Fuck,” he groaned, reaching between them to rub at her clit while fucking into her harder. “Cum for me first. Please.”

Paul was always so sweet with her, so generous. He kept thrusting and rubbing her clit with that expert precision that drove her wild, and it wasn’t long before she burst.

Her walls were still pulsating and clenching down on him when he moaned her name against her neck and came inside her.

Afterwards, he wouldn’t let her go, not even for half a second.

“I’m gonna stay right here,” he told her, stroking her stomach affectionately as they traded slow, lazy kisses. “I’m not pulling out. I’m going to stay inside you until I want you again.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “At least let me turn over so I can sleep, would you?”

He frowned but allowed her to do as she’d asked, spooning her with his softening cock still buried inside her.

A few hours later, he hardened inside her and woke her up with his thrusts.

Sera had never been so content in all her life. 

Yes, I know, finally they confessed! Yay! I’m so proud of them.

Tag list: @meetmyothersouls @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones

To be added, please ask 💗

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

Head Under Water; Playing With Fire (Ch1)

Fandom: Dune Ship: Gurney Halleck/Nonbinary Original Character Rating: Mature Tags: slow burn (sorta), mutual pining/attraction, canon compliant (again, sorta), sparring, sexual tension Summary: (Starts before the Harkonnen raid on Arrakis) General Sero has been assigned to work with the Atreides Duke in an effort to establish stable relations with the Atreides. Unfortunately, no one had considered that the General and Warmaster would fall in love. Notes: I know the summary is cheesy sksksksk Look I finished book 1 and lowkey fell in love with book Gurney. So, naturally, I had to give him a stubborn Fremen General. Is an afab nonbinary Fremen General accurate to Dune? Probably not! But this is fanfic, where canon gets yeeted. Title inspired by "Apartment" by BOBI ANDONOV AO3 Link:

They drum their fingers on the armrest of their seat in the ornithopter as the desert passes quickly below them. They replay the conversation that’s brought them here for the third or fourth time this trip, the stern tone of their sietch’s Naib detailing why it was important they went to work with the Atreides and not another. The most trusted General of the sietch, the one he knew for certain wouldn’t betray the Fremen if given a chance. Sometimes loyalty had its downsides.

It had been a particularly long (and stressful) conversation over battle strategy, but the main point was that they would be fully loyal to both the Duke and their own people. They were to train the soldiers, speak up in strategy meetings as if they’d always been there, and maintain an air of professionalism. This is a delicate test of a treaty that an Atreides man named Duncan Idaho had set up. They are not to jeopardize this. Not that they would consider doing so, they are all too familiar with how the Harkonnens treated their people, and they would not dare risk that treatment repeated by this new house. They respected the Atreides for attempting such an alliance, although this assignment may test that respect. They’d heard their fellow Fremen talk about the Atreides in the sietch, and they would not let the fanatical religious beliefs nor the brittle hostility left by the Harkonnens persuade their opinion prior to meeting them.

A sigh escapes them despite themself, and they catch the pilot glancing their way.

“Is something wrong, sir?” they ask nervously. They note his steel grip on the ornithopter’s controls. The poor man was shaking in his boots, probably still reeling from when they’d adjusted his still suit and chastised whoever had taught him to put it on upon their first meeting.

“No, nothing that’s within your power to control. This ride is taking much longer than I would like,” they complain, watching the sand below.

“I’m sorry. If I could go faster, I would,” he apologizes regardless.

“Focus on flying. I will survive,” they dismiss, waving their hand briefly before returning it back to the armrest.

The escort is still nervously glancing at them by the time they touch down as if he expects them to suddenly capture the ‘thopter and fly off. He’s completely ignorant to the fact that they’ve gone through the conversation with the Naib another two times and wholly ignored him. Their gaze sweeps out the window to see three figures standing a safe distance from the settling Ornithopter and raise an eyebrow.

As if sensing their curiosity, their escort pipes up again: “The Duke, his Warmaster and the Young Master.”

“Ah, my thanks. I would have guessed something along those lines, but it is difficult for one’s eyes perfectly make out details at this distance,” they say, meaning it to its fullest extent.

The escort nods, and they take a moment as the blades of the Ornithopter settle to adjust their robe. The sash tied around their waist and thrown over their shoulder is paid careful attention to check the security of the items stuffed there. They’d rather not spill its contents in front of such authority. Not that they were particularly known for doing so, but the anxiety of the idea never failed to eat away at them.

Once the Ornithopter has settled, their escort presses a button on the controls, and the door to their side eases open. Deliberately taking their time, they exit, their boots hitting the soft sand below. It’s a hot day, as always, and they briefly wonder how long the Duke has been waiting. They’re sure it hasn’t been long; they have ways to detect incoming Ornithopters, and their escort had radioed in their arrival once the city was in viewing range.

As they approach the group of three, they carefully examine them and commit them to memory (who knows when they’d need this information again).

The Duke himself had an air to him, regal and perfect posture, and an air that read his patience is not meant to be tested.

The boy beside him looked far more patient than his father, mirroring the same posture and borrowing most of his features. They knew of him well; there were many whispers in the sietch of the young Maud’dib.

Then there was the third man with a posture that could only be described as rigid and a scar that crept and wound across his face. His broad shoulders are as straight as an arrow. He wore an air of sternness well, with a steady frown, and when he noticed their gaze upon him, he held it strong. They kept it until they were at an appropriate distance, forcing them to bow to the Duke. Even so, they found themself disappointed and cursed that they dared find an Atreides attractive.

This would be a problem.

“Duke Atreides,” they say, careful to keep their tone level and their address sterile. They need not show a slight hope for the Duke yet.

“General Sero, I presume?” he says as Sero straightens their posture. He continues after they nod in confirmation. “I’ve heard of your reputation from my Swordmaster. I have to admit, it’s prestigious.”

“I’m glad to hear my reputation precedes me. It makes things all the easier when you’re aware of what I’m capable of,” they say, allowing themself the slightest smile at the notion.

“I agree. Knowing the skills of a colleague is the first step to understanding how to work together. Thus, I brought my Warmaster, Gurney Halleck, to meet you with me. You will be working the closest with him,” the Duke says, gesturing to the broad man next to him.

They nod their head to him, letting him catch their gaze once more. He holds it until the Duke speaks up again: “And this is my son, Paul.”

They also incline their head to Paul, noting how the Duke doesn’t elaborate on why Paul’s here.

“Now, I believe we have a tactics meeting to attend. Someone will collect your things from the Ornithopter and store them in your room for you,” the Duke says, turning in a broad, sweeping manner that causes his cape to flutter in the air.

Sero notes how Gurney takes up the rear while Paul walks slightly in front of them in the middle of the group. There’s a certain status quo to the group, whether they care to admit it. They do their best to keep a rigid posture as they’re guided through the halls of the base toward a space tucked in the back where the Duke has set up his war council.

The door to the room is pushed open by a guard, and they’re met by the wide eyes and flickering whispers of the Duke’s council. They hold their head high, keeping their gaze level as they take the seat selected for them, draping their robe across the back of the chair. One leg crossed over the other, they lean back just enough in their seat to maintain a professional aura.

The meeting is exactly what they expected; redundant and short, lacking consideration in other techniques and broadly showing ignorance. More than a few comments are made about the lack of shield generators used by the Fremen. There are only so many comments they can let slide.

“… we still haven’t found a way to protect our sand crawlers while harvesting spice without shields. It leaves one to wonder how anyone could survive in this desert if they cannot use shields,” an officer reports to the Duke.

“That’s because you think only within your limited worldview. You do not know how Arrakis works and are ignorant to learn,” Sero bites before the Duke can respond, prompting all eyes at the table to turn to them.

“Respect your Duke,” Gurney barks from his spot, sending a piercing glare to Sero that they return. They catch a hand signal out of the corner of their eye; Gurney settles back into his previous position.

“Something you wish to add, General?” the Duke asks, eyeing them with curiosity to mask his annoyance. An expression he’s mimicking from his son.

“If you’re worried about worms, you’re going about it wrong. The shields won’t help in the event of a worm attack - it’ll digest it anyway. What you need is to find a way to distract the worm long enough you can harvest your precious spice. Perhaps if you focused your efforts on that, you would come across the answer to how to work with Arrakis instead of against it,” they say, keeping their face as neutral as possible as they maintain eye contact with the Duke.

“Is there something you would propose to accomplish this?” the officer from before prompts, pen poised, ready to take down any information they could offer.

“Worms are not my field of expertise. You could attempt to lure it away with something harder, pounding the sand; a series of thumpers placed across the sand could confuse it as to where the source is - really, any strategy that could protect your crawlers could work. It’s up to you to find the exact one.”

“Thank you for your input, General,” the Duke says, his voice clipped as if he’s attempting to maintain his air of professionalism on frayed nerves. They don’t blame him - they’d never interrupt their Naib in such a manner, but something had to be said, or they’d keep going on like blathering fools.

They nod their head to him, and the meeting resumes its previous boredom. It’s not until they’re finally strategizing battle plans that they have any real input. Strategies, different angles on problems - things that make heads turn to the Fremen in the room. Their voice was prominent in the room, and for once, the strangers seem to be listening. Harkonenns never listened. They never even tried.

When the meeting finally concluded, Sero was left with a slight smile. Something that had become increasingly less common for them during the Harkonnen occupation. As they gather their robe from the back of their chair, adjusting the sash around their waist, the Duke addresses them once more.

“General Sero, our immediate meeting cut any hope of a tour from our plans. You have the rest of the day off; my Warmaster will show you around and to your quarters as he will work the closest with you. When you are finished, take the necessary time to coordinate your instructions. Whatever time you have left will be yours to use as you wish,” Duke Let says, his tone careful and measured as he instructs them.

They curse internally yet maintain the same neutral expression as before. They’d been hoping for an escort and some privacy, not the ruggedly handsome, grumpy Warmaster. Okay. Handsome. They need to get rid of that thought immediately. This is strictly professional.

Even Gurney looks like he wants to protest, his face scowling as he picks up a… baliset? Perhaps this won’t be so bad after all. That’s assuming he doesn’t simply carry it around for fun. And assuming he’s willing to be cordial - at least a little bit.

“As you wish, my Duke,” Sero says, minding their manners carefully. They’d rather not further anger the man they’ve been assigned to spend the rest of the day (and potentially the rest of their stay) with.

Duke Leto nods his head to both of them as he moves to exit the room: “I will see both of you tomorrow.”

With that, they are left alone in the room out of obligation. Sero takes the silence to study how the baliset strap sits across his chest, how his uniform clings in some places and drapes in others, his wispy blond hair, and the seemingly permanent frown on his face. Privately they wonder if the inkvine scar has anything to do with the frowning.

“I suppose I should start with your quarters, so you have somewhere to put your robe,” Gurney grunts, and they aren’t quick enough to mask the flash of shock that ripples across their face.

“That would be acceptable,” they say, choosing their words carefully.

There’s barely a nod of acknowledgement before he leads them out of the door. Clearly he wants about as much to do with them as they do with him. This work-colleague relationship is going to prove difficult to navigate.

The walk down the hallway is silent save for the sparse comments from Gurney about different locations within the stronghold. The silence is maddening. They’re used to the constant chatter of people in the sietch; of life. Even a Fremen escort would be more willing to talk to them, and they knew soldiers who would shake in their boots at the idea of escorting them. This had to be fixed before it became an unbreakable habit.

When they finally reach their quarters, they deposit their belongings at the bed's foot. The rest of their belongings have already been brought over, resting by the door. The room is nothing spectacular; a large bed, a desk and an ensuite bathroom. Exactly what they would’ve expected out of a foreigner’s accommodations. They’ll have to make due later.

“Do you want to continue the tour, or should I take my leave?” Gurney asks, his voice rigid and sterile. It cuts their ears, and they can’t stand it any longer.

“Warmaster, do I make you uncomfortable?”

He balks at them for a moment. They would chastise him if he were their soldier for how his mouth hangs open, losing moisture. His brow sets heavy on his forehead, his open mouth morphing into a frown.

“Have I done something to render this assumption?”

“Yes - but it wasn’t an assumption. It was a question,” they correct him. “As I understand it, you’re not used to Fremen or feminine-presenting people in power. Let alone a Fremen General with the body of a woman. I get the feeling you either don’t want me here or don’t think I can do my job as promised.”

“We were made aware of your appearance prior to your arrival, and I’ve already taken the time to adjust myself to the idea. It's not that you make me uncomfortable; I don’t trust you. Simple as that.”

“I would expect nothing less. But it’s comforting to know that you aren’t going to undermine my experience because of my appearance. However, trust can be remedied; skill can always be proven,” they state, pulling a few things from their sash and placing them on their desk. No need to carry so much with them right now.

“What would you propose?” Gurney asks his tone almost light. As if he was humouring them while entertaining a few comical ideas.

“A sparing session. I’ll need your assistance in demonstrations to train your men; it would be best to know where we each stand. So I don’t embarrass you in front of your own men when you lose,” they say nonchalantly, taking a moment to unscrew the cap of their flask and take a brief swig. “Unless you’re willing to let your men see you slack-jawed when I take you down a few pegs for the first time.”

“Hah,” he laughs dryly, earning a raised eyebrow from Sero. “I doubt you’ll win.”

“Since you’re so confident, want to bet on it? If I win, you must play me a song on your baliset. While singing,” they propose, suppressing their grin to a thin smile.

He debates their proposal for a moment. They can see it in his eyes and how his brow sets on his face. Perhaps they’d struck too high of a bet… or just enough where the stakes seemed completely favourable to him.

“What do I get when I win?” he tests them.

The wording is a dead giveaway. He’s going to accept this no matter what prize they offer him. So they pull a small container from their sash, holding it between their thumb and forefinger.

“Your man, Idaho, mentioned that the pain in your scar affects your mood. This cream is meant to treat inkvine injuries and similar ones inflicted by the Harkonnens. Something we’ve devised after many years. It was given to me as a bargaining chip before I left in case I ran into trouble. Seeing how you and the Duke have no objections to my presence, I find it only fitting that this still sees use.”

There is a brief ripple of emotion in his eyes - mostly shock - as they explain it carefully. “Well then, it seems we have a fair bet. I hope you won’t be too sore when you lose,” he says.

“If you’re so sure, then lead the way,” they say, gesturing to the door.

He does so without further prompting, leading them down the corridors and to the lower floors of the stronghold. This time when he points out places, he takes time for questions and answers them - albeit with an underlying layer of caution. They take the time to watch his movements, walking slightly behind him to see where he shifts his weight too. It gives them time to pick out the most vulnerable spots and the safer places to feign towards. If he notices what they are doing, he doesn’t let it on.

Finally, they come to a sturdy double door. In the distance, they can hear the crash and clang of weapons against each other. Soldiers are training nearby.

“In here,” Gurney grunts, pushing open the double doors.

[blacksunrequiem]

“I believe visions are not set in stone, if that is what you are asking. Visions that pass through our mind’s eye are a gift, a glimpse into what can be,” Delphine says. “If a vision shows you a man who will wrong you, kill him before he kills you.”

— Delphine Navarre, Chapter 30, “Echoes in Our Blood” by Vulpine_Spectacle on AO3

This is one of the key pillars of the world-building of this Dune-inspired fan fic. Delphine gave this advice years ago to Eurydice while they were training in the Bene Gesserit way on Chapterhouse. And now, as Paul’s concubine, she reiterates this advice to her na-Duke. The siblings are determined to circumvent the horrid visions that they have seen. When the two houses of sworn enemies team up together, what we will get then? A recipe of disaster? Probably disastrous to the Emperor and the Bene Gesserit; it should be a catastrophic sight to behold.

Original photo by: Jessica Pascucci on Behance

[stopstopstopit]

The Lost Husband is now complete!

Read it on AO3

“And so the night went, Din having a couple more beers than he normally would have, the nice buzz something he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

He was asked to dance by a couple of ladies, and even one gentleman, all of whom he kindly declined. He’d walked over to throw away a bottle when he heard footsteps behind him. He put a smile on his face, ready to tell the next person that he didn’t feel like dancing.

Except it was Cobb.

Cobb in all his shining glory, red bandana around his neck, his silver hair backlit by the stage lights, that same fond smile on his lips.

“Dance with me?” he asked quietly, holding out a hand in Din’s direction.

Din took it.”