#paul atreides fanfiction

[your-nanas-house]

Watched Dune part 2 and... I'm so down for Paul again. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen too. I think I will start writing for them.

[multific]

A Love Without Words

Paul Atreides x Mute!Reader

Summary: Destiny has its way to make us suffer. It gives us power but it can take it away just as easily. 

You and Paul grew up together.

It was decided at a young age that you were to become his wife when the time comes.

Lady Jessica remembered the day he took his young boy, barely two years old into the healers where you were just born. 

Lady Jessica remembered the day he told his son that the baby laying in the crib will be his wife. 

Paul didn't understand it back then. Of course, he didn't, he was too young.

You soon grew up to be a strong woman, strong with the Voice. Your power and ability to use the Voice became evident at a young age.

You loved to sing as well.

It is how Paul fell in love with you. One morning, he heard a voice, oh so sweet, singing. He knew he needed to find the person. He needed to know who it was. And he found you. Baking away as you sang. Paul was only sixteen, yet he found the love of his life.

---

But then, things turned for the worst. On your sixteenth birthday, you celebrated with your family.

Your family was attacked.

The Duke himself went to help but it was all in vain. Your parents were dead, and they found you in terrible conditions.

"My Lady, she is stable now, her vitals are good but... My Lady... she lost her voice." Paul and her mother looked at the nurse as she handed them a note.

'I tried to save them, I used the Voice but I failed. And now, I lost my parents and the Voice.'

Paul looked up at the nurse, demanding answers.

"She can't speak anymore, she had gone mute."

Mute.

Your beautiful voice.

Your songs.

Were all gone?

The voice that made him laugh and smile. The voice that talked so sweetly to him.

Was it truly gone?

Paul looked at his mother who had sadness in her eyes.

All she could say was "At least she is still alive."

But it was no comfort for Paul.

He headed into the room, finding you alone in bed, but you weren't sleeping.

He didn't say anything, he didn't know what to say.

So, he sat down beside your bed and held your hand as you silently cried.

Paul wanted nothing more than to burn the world. The world that took so much from you. 

You swore on that hospital bed that no matter what, you won't let this fully break you.

It is what your attackers would have wanted, and you weren't going to give them the satisfaction of winning.

They came into your home to kill you and your family due to your closeness to the Duke. Everyone knew about your engagement to Paul, and they wanted to attack where it would hurt.

And it hurt. 

It really did hurt Paul.

You were moved into his room, his mother decided to marry you to him earlier. Saying in order to keep your title and the power your House once had, you had to be married.

It was disgusting to hear that after the day of your attack, many nobles offered their daughters up for marriage to Paul.

But there you were, only a week after you buried your parents and your voice, you were standing in a white dress getting married. 

You tried to be happy, after all, you did love Paul with all of your heart. 

But you were still grieving.

Slowly, you started to heal, Paul and Lady Jessica did help you a lot. While the Lady tried to help you get your voice back, Paul wanted you to accept the fact that you lost it.

You felt like you were pulled in two directions.

Then the following week, during your daily training with Lady Jessica, you finally had enough.

'I don't wish to continue. I lost my voice and I'm coming to terms with it, Paul helps a lot. I understand that the Voice is a gift. Unfortunately, I have lost my gift, so I'm trying to find a new purpose.'

Read the note you handed to Lady Jessica before exiting the room.

She didn't argue. She knew she was holding onto something which she couldn't save. She knew, but at least you both tried.

Now, you needed a new purpose, and motivation to keep you going. And you found it in Paul. 

Paul was a kind soul. Attentive, affectionate and caring. He loved you like no other. 

And you loved him. You loved that even though you were only a shadow of the woman you once were, he loved you.

You often found yourself in the library, reading or by the window looking out.

Your daily routine was simple. And every day you had dinner with your now-family. The Duke, Lady Jessica and Paul. 

You never really paid attention to the conversations, it was mainly the Duke speaking with Paul 

Then, during one dinner, something caught your attention. Something the Duke said.

A child.

The Duke asked Paul when does he plan on having a child, an heir. 

It shocked you. It really did.

Considering that you and Paul only spent one night intimate. It was the best night of your life. Even if he said he didn't have any experience, you didn't mind. 

You were still rather nervous around him.

Thankfully you had your notepad with you. Everyone watched as you wrote something before a servant stepped up and you handed him the note. He read it out loud.

"It was rather difficult for my mother to conceive. It is why I am an only child. I'm afraid I might have the same difficulty, My Duke. I sincerely apologise." as he finished you bowed your head and everyone was so speechless it made you nervous. You did just admit to a flaw in your bloodline. But it would be better for them to know. You motioned for the servant who gave you back the notebook and you wrote. "I do wish to be a mother, however. But I do not want to rush my husband with such duty. My mother often said, 'It will happen when the time is right.'" 

"You are such a sweetheart, Y/N." said the Duke. "I remember your father often reminding me of your mother's... issues. I simply asked because the council was also curious. I do understand however, it is not their place to ask."

You knew that a baby could be a good purpose for you. But you also didn't want to have a baby and then have this feeling of only giving birth because you lost your purpose. You wished to have a child out of love, not duty.

While you did understand it was one of your duties. You also didn't wish the child to have this sense that you only gave birth because of that reason.

And somehow Paul understood that. But he also desperately wanted to give you more. Give you his voice in exchange for yours. He wanted to give you the entire Galaxy.

It is why he spoke up and told his father, when you two are ready for a child, you shall have one.

You appreciated Paul taking your side.

Later that evening, you were in the bath, enjoying the water before Paul would soon return.

You smiled to yourself, imagining a young boy, hair like Paul's running around, giggling and calling you Mommy.

It was beautiful.

But you knew you had a low chance. And babies are supposed to hear their mommies talk.

You will never be able to do that. And it hurt. 

You really needed something to take up your mind. You felt like you have read every book in there. You felt like you explored all rooms.

You sank deeper into the tub when your servants arrived and helped you clean and got you dressed. 

"How was your day?" asked Paul as he entered the room and sat down on your shared bed. You offered him a smile and a nod. "Great, I have a surprise for you." 

You grabbed your note, 'Now?'

"I was supposed to wait until tomorrow morning, but I can't."

He grabbed your hand and guided you down the halls and into the garden, there you noticed something in the back.

It looked like a...

Paul guided you closer. It was harder to see in the dark.

It was a green house, made out purely from glass. 

"I just thought... Mother said ladies usually enjoy gardens and flowers and I thought you might like it." you silently walked inside, looking at all the possibilities as all trays were still empty.

Paul stood in silence as he watched you looking around. You soon noticed a corner where there were sofas placed. You walked over and soon turned to paul.

'Is this for me?'

"Of course! You can decorate or plant however you like. Tomorrow a planner will come and you can tell her what you would like."

'This is wonderful, Paul.'

"I know you have been feeling lost since your voice and parents were taken from you. I hope this will give you a new goal to take your mind off of things."

You wanted to cry, you walked over to him and hugged him. Silently thanking him.

"I hope, every time I come in here I will see you smile." you pulled away and smiled at him. He smiled back. "I love you so much, Y/N."

You placed your palm on his heart.

It was your way of telling him that you felt the same, that you loved him just as much.

It might have been a love without words, but Paul understood it perfectly.

Your eyes shined every time you looked at him, your smile was always so kind and pure.

He slowly leaned down to kiss your perfect lips. 

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

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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

[lainiespicewrites]

The Atreides Era

Part 1

Buried in the sands

A/N: Hey everyone! obviously not my normal content! I've been working on updates on that as well! This is part of a writing Collab with my best friend @hey-its-roseaurum! We've both broken out of our comfort zone writing fics for each other's fave comfort characters. She will be posting about Sherlock so my Henry girlies definitely go check it out! I'll add the link once it's posted!

So I guess without too much warning here is my best effort at a Paul Atreides x OC fic

Summary: Paul Atreides and OC (Matar) and the other Freman are still fighting the Harkonnen in the spice fields. After almost losing his friend in battle Paul makes the decision it's time to go south. It's time to meet with the Emperor. His decisions will change the fate of his friends and the planet of Arakis. Paul knows this. He's seen it. But... at what cost?

Warnings: Description of battle, death, slight angst.

2k words

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It’s early that much is clear. The sun's intense heat has not yet started pouring over Arrakis, disturbing Matar’s peaceful sleep. What did disturb her was the amateur sand steps of the young man outside her tent. And the sound of his voice calling for her in a harsh whisper. Matar stirred with an agitated grumble, sitting up slowly and blinking her eyes to adjust to the soft light of dawn starting to creep in from the open flap of her tent. 

“What do you want, Paul Atredies?” She groaned. The footsteps outside her tent halted and were followed by a soft chuckle. Crouching down in front of the tent Paul popped his head in sending Matar a cocky grin. 

“Not Usul? Have I managed to offend you again already?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. Matar stares for a moment, watching his face and the loose wave of brown hair that’s fallen into his eyes. Interesting how they’re still so gray, his eyes, as long as he’d now been exposed to spice. Matar blinked the thought away, what did it matter? Paul Atriedies could have glowing red eyes and she’d pay no mind, he was a pest. A pest, who was her friend, one she’d grown fond of. But still a pest. 

“You’ve come to me, Paul Atriedes before the sun is fully awake. This better be important.” Matar answered him, falling back against her pillow. 

Paul was not discouraged by his friend's lack of energy or enthusiasm, crawling into the tent in the corner across from his friend still giving her the same dopey grin.

“How’d you know it was me?” He spoke softly now. His tone was now more gentle and letting Matar awaken properly before he poked at her further. 

“You walk like an elephant, I could hear you coming from miles away,” she answered him. 

“Hmm I suppose I do,” Paul agreed nodding. “Then we need to practice before we go into battle!” Paul's exclamation caused Matar to sit up. Now she was fully awake.

“Battle? What are you speaking of Usul?” The boy's smirk faded. His eyes are more serious now. 

“We got word more of Harkonnen moving in on the spice fields. They’re placing their harvester as we speak. We’ll need to move in on them quickly.”

Putting the moment of banter behind them Matar quickly composed herself. Pulling her hair back she tied her long dark hair into a tight knot. She swept her hand around her tent for a moment and found her head scarf to keep her safe from the day’s intense heat. Taking in a deep breath Matar’s eyes once again settle on the man sitting across from her. 

“Is Chani aware?” She asks. Her voice is smooth and calm. While she had not expected another fight. Or, ambush rather, against the Harkonnen. She was always ready. For those who control the spice control the universe. A mantra the Harkonnen were always chasing.  Neither Matar nor Chani, Matar’s closest friend, would submit to that fate. 

Paul’s eyes shift to the ground as he shakes his head.

“No, I figured it should come from you. She’s one of our most skilled fighters. Chani doesn’t trust me. It has to come from you, Matar.” a breath of silence falls over the two of them. For a moment. Matar thinks to be offended by this. Paul Atreides is only here to use her as a messenger. The thought is gone as quickly as it develops. There is no time for emotion. No time to dwell on the man who has shown up unannounced. 

“I will see her now. Go, gather the others. We’ll need to move before the sun is at its highest point. “ She said.  The man nods. But catches her wrist before she can leave the tent. 

“Matar, I- I’ve seen… something. You in battle and you…” He pauses. They lock eyes. The visions. One of the many reasons Stilgar and the other southerners believe the young Atreiedies is the Messiah. Matar, Chani, and a few of their kind believe it all to be a load of shit. 

However, the fear in his eyes at this moment cannot be ignored. “Please,” He pauses again emphasizing his words. “Be careful out there.” Matar doesn’t say anything. Holding his gaze she nods letting him know she understands whatever he’s seen has frightened him. He lets her go and the two of them leave the tent.  There’s a warm light over their camp. Many of the other Freman have started to gather in a common area. 

Paul and Matar walk in opposite directions. But before Paul is out of earshot Matar stops and calls for him. 

“Usul!” She calls. He turns back to her with a look of concern etched across his face. “Whatever you saw,” she pauses. “My fate is my own to make Paul Atreides,” 

Paul gives her another soft smile. He looks like he did when she first saw him this morning. Innocent, and childlike.  There’s a stirring feeling in her gut.  She has no time to address this. They have a planet to protect. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chani is awake and preparing for the day when Matar finds her. 

“Bit early for you isn’t it?” Chani asks with a smirk. 

“Funny,” Matar recants quickly, “I got a visit from Lisan al Gaib this morning.” Better to get to the point quickly. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve started to buy into this Messiah facade?” Chani questions. Eyeing her friend with a curious expression. Matar scoffs

“Why do I sense you’re already feeling hostile this morning?” Matar says, “Of course, I don’t believe it, I believe what I can see Chani. And what I see is that Paul Atreides has helped us successfully fight against the Harkonnen attacking our spice fields. 

“There’s another harvester?” Chani asks although it’s clear she knows the answer already. 

“He doesn’t believe you you trust him. But I know that you will protect your family.” Matar says. 

“I don’t trust him. But I see what he’s done. And It can’t be ignored. Believe me, I have tried. “ She pauses with a smirk. “And as long as I’m fighting beside you, I’ll always show up for the fight.” 

“Don’t be soft,” Matar teases. Smacking her friend on the shoulder. 

“It’s you who’s gone soft Matar. Don’t get so close to him, his mother can not be trusted. She seeks more power than anyone should hold.” Chani warns

“We are not close, But I believe he could be a good ally, and that woman can burn for all I care. Now come, we’ve got to prepare for an ambush.” She smirks as she and her friend set out to join the other soldiers. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silence.  Nothing but the sound of the wind stirring the sand. A maua’dib, a small desert mouse, could be heard skittering across the sand dune. Unsuspecting of the unrest that is soon to occur. Matar’s eyes scan over the top of the dune, zeroing in on the harvester only feet away from her and the others. Paul and Chani have, for the time being, come to a truce and have gone undetected underneath the foul piece of machinery. Matar and the others are waiting for their signal. This is when they will move in. 

A loud blast breaks the silence. A shot attacked the Harkonnen craft surveying the harvester and the security. The signal. The others jump to their feet. Stilgar and his men attack the security with daggers. Slicing into them and killing them before the intruders even see the Freman warriors coming. Matar takes a shot at the harvester aiming for one of its claw-like pillars. The blast hits but it quickly gains her attention. She makes quick steps and rolls out of the way as a Harkonnen security tries to land an attack. He misses. This was a fatal mistake for him. Granted he was always going to die. Another Freman soldier stabs the Harkonnen before he can advance any closer. Matar locks eyes with the person and they nod at each other before they continue their battle. She stands, once again aiming for the harvester. This time she aims right in the center. Fuck it. No more time for games. Time to blow this thing up. Taking one last look to be sure her friends will not become casualties she takes the shot. She doesn’t watch it land. Matar is pulled back by another Harkonnen. He has a dagger held to her ribcage. She barely hears the sound of the explosion over her heart pounding in her ears. At least she landed it. One last explosion before the bitter end. She twists to break the hold but the man has a tight grip on her neck. Fuck. 

He lifts the blade ready to plunge it into her chest. And then. He goes limp. His body falls to the sand. Matar sucks in a deep breath. Finally, she turns. Paul’s eyes are wide as they search her for injury. 

“Are you?” He begins. She holds up her hand to stop him. 

“Do not fuss over me, I am not dead,” she tells him. With one last thud. The final Harkonnen is dropped to the ground. Someone, Stilgar likely, calls for the rest of them to gather quickly and evacuate the area. The Freman army and their messiah head back to camp. However, halfway back Paul stops them. 

“Gather your things. This is the last time we fight the Harkonnen like this. Tomorrow, we go south.” He states. Chani and Matar exchange a look. 

“Paul Atreides we cannot…” Chani begins to protest

“I will not continue to watch them abuse this planet. I will not wait for the emperor to make his move. We are going south. And we will take on the emperor.” He states again. 

The rest of the Freman army cheers. Paul Atreides, once again is fulfilling their prophecy. But Matar. Feels like a dagger has been stuck in her side. He once told her, He wished nothing more to be equal to her. But he couldn’t mean that. Not when he was headed south to possess more power than any person should ever wield. 

The Freman army arrived back at camp. Some celebrated. Some dressed wounds from the day's battle. 

“He’s a good fighter, but I knew he could not be trusted,” Chani says absentmindedly. The girls are both watching Paul off in the distance while Stilgar celebrates their success.

“Do you have to be right about everything?” Matar questions. 

“No, just tends to pan out that way,” Her friend says before wandering off to her own tent. Matar sighs finding a seat and taking out her dagger sharpening it with a stone.  After a few moments, she feels a presence and then there is someone sitting beside her. 

“Matar,” Pauls voice speaks. 

“I don’t wish to speak to you Usul,” she says, continuing to sharpen the blade. He ignores her grabbing her wrist and pulling her attention from the dagger. 

“You almost lost your life today.” He says. Matar shrugs. 

“I was protecting my people Paul Atredies, it’s what we do,” she responds. 

“Maybe, but I have lost far too many people I care about. You will not be next Matar.” He says.

“Paul,” Matar begins. 

“Going south, I’ll take control. I can protect you and protect us all once we’ve made an attack against the emperor,” he argues. Matar is stuck. She is angry. She doesn’t want this. She opens her mouth to recant. To tell him he is wrong. Nothing comes out. She pauses again. She’s quiet for a while and then.

“Usul. You told me once. About these…oceans, on your home planet. Describe them again.” She requests. Surprising Paul and herself. 

“Caladan is covered in oceans and water. They are… as blue as your eyes.” He smiles at her. “As deep as them too. There’s no end even as you look at the horizon. They go on forever.” He explains. 

“I still… do not believe you Paul Atreides,” Matar answers, ignoring the growing warmth in her face. 

“You will,” Paul says without thought. 

“We, shall…”

“Lisan al Gaib, Come” Stilgar calls, “There’s much to do before our journey tomorrow. We must prepare!”

Matar lets out I sigh. 

“You’re celebration awaits Paul Atreides.” she says. 

“Matar,” He says softly. 

“I will see you at dawn…Lisan al Gaib.”  a moment of hurt flashes in Paul's eyes but it’s gone before Matar can register it. They both turn and part for the evening.

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A/N: This is Part one of ? We're still discussing the terms of this collab LOL

IF you'd like to be added to a tag list for this story please let me know! I know for my followers that read my Henry fics this is a bit different but I hope you enjoyed this too. If you decide to give it a read :) Thank you all. Dont forget to check out @hey-its-roseaurum Sherlock fic!

Tag list:

@enchantedbytomandhenry @summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood@gummydummy19@deandoesthingstome@shellyshellshell@mary-ann84@starfirewildheart@foxyjwls007

[xalicitie]

Take Care of Me — Paul Maud’dib Atreides (smut)

Leila is Chani’s trusted crony. While Chani and Paul share a passionate and intimate love for one another, as Paul embraces his role as Lisan Al-Gaib, Chani encounters detrimental trouble in dealing with his new persona and thus turns to Leila as a channel for her frustration. Leila has been Paul’s own medic for a day, and returning to his chambers to treat an opened wound, she takes her frustration out on him. And yet, she finds out he’s frustrated, too.

The full story will be posted on AO3–HAHA. Just kidding. I have no fucking motivation anymore and it’s killing me. If I manage to fill in a few scenes on this story, then it will make it onto AO3. The full story starts a few scenes ahead of this.

Also, this is based on the movies. I’m reading book 1 now, but I wrote this pretty early on. A lot of the stuff probably won’t make sense in the Dune world. If u have a problem suck my cokkk

Isn’t it obvious I like medic smut scenarios

Also if u want the ending of this tell me! idk if the Dune fandom will welcome me here🙏

I enter Paul Maud’Dib Atreides’ chambers for my second round—and yet within my circumstance, and the unfortunate display of events that have fallen into place, instead of knocking, I barge through.

I find Usul confined to his bed, blood gushing through his white garment.

“Leave.” I pronounce with an impatient tongue. The nurses at Usul’s side take a look at me, and with silent agreement, rush off and through his grand doors.

Usul dons a blank countenance, slightly embellished with the graze of concern. More prominently, however, I can see physical pain in his eyes. I try not to let him uncover that this deeply perturbs me.

“Now why in the fucking world would you do this to yourself?” I demand. My footsteps boom through the lifeless room, my lips stiff with inhibition.

He sits there for a second, gaping up at me slightly, plainly confused.

“Excuse me?”

I know this is the Messiah. And I understand that he could have me thrown off the planet for speaking to him in such a wretched way. But with this, I uncover in myself boiling rebellion.

“Damnit, don’t gape at me.” I snarl a bit. I can feel my indignation running wild, through a pounding chest and through my mindless mouth.

“Sit up.”

He does, silently. I’m grateful.

“Take this off.”

I gesture to his shirt. He does this, too.

I come around with a cloth. Staring down at him, I survey the image—he’s bleeding out. Quickly, at that. He messed up his stomach wound considerably. His toned stomach is scaled with blood, a red, filthy gash on his left side. My heartbeat chases a pounding rhythm. Holy shit: he might fucking die.

My inhibition snaps.

“Nevermind. Screw it. Lay against the headrest. Be careful, you damned fool.”

Usul groans as he backs into his bed. “I was told I was getting nursed, not chastised.” He seethes through a set of clamped teeth.

“Yes, well, you managed to ruin your binding. I can see it took an incredible amount of effort, too.” I climb into the bed. Barring off any uncomfortable undertones, I crawl towards him.

“Yet I also don’t need a fucking coach right now, Leila. I need a medic.” I feel his hot breath lingering in the air near; I snap my face towards his. His gaze is unwavering, and I can see his studying gaze, his brow twitching calculatingly.

I’m a frazzled mess—I can tell as my eyes twitch that’s it’s painfully obvious.

I flinch suddenly. My gaze wanders, and I find warm, masculine digits consuming mine.

“You need to stop shaking, damnit.”

His quiet yet pregnant words resonate with me and into my weak, distressed body. I fall still. With his palm against my aching fingers, I find the quickest respite.

“Focus. I will not die.”

“Did you prophesize that, hm?”

“No. I trust you.”

My eyes flutter shut. I inhale a tremulous breath. He’s right—I can’t work in my state right now. But if I want to do as much as merely stopping the bleeding, I’ll have to shift my attitude. Swiftly.

My mind doesn’t dare wander towards Chani. It would be custom for me to turn to her for strength, but the mental image of her mainly brings about animosity. Instead, I focus here, now—on Usul’s palpable heat, in his hands and in the heavy scent of his presence.

I take a moment. A moment, quietly finding my peace and my lost, inner instinct.

After many prolonged breaths, I sit up.

And I get to work.

“This is going to hurt. You might want to lay down.”

Silently, he obeys me.

My skills succumb to my mind. I work intensely—I dab the cloth into his thick blood, which stains his alabaster skin. As I work, a few meager thoughts roam my mind: I doubt no Fremen wouldn’t pay their wage for a touch of his blood, I ponder. Being so intimate with his mortality brings everything into scope; Usul has a power only rivaled by Emperors, Kings, and Queens, however any hit can be fatal. Without Paul, the Fremen lose their symbol and their incentive. But, well, no pressure.

On the other hand, I’m notably grateful for his compliance. And I’m even further impressed with his determination too, in refusing to speak a single word nor a mere sound. As I uncover my own tenets, and I come out of Chani’s shadow, I’m starting to realize.. my favor isn’t entirely for Chani.

A bowl of water arrives with a nurse. Thanking her and sending her off, I near Usul again.

“Does this have to do with Chani?”

As I begin to clean his wound, I talk pointedly, inquiry woven into my tone.

His voice comes eventually, but he groans when I pour the sacred water directly onto his gash. His bony fingers twitch and attach onto the mattress, grasping lightly.

“-Did she tell you anything?” He utters begrudgingly.

“Mhm.” I answer.

“Is that why you’re in a mood?”

Water pools onto his stomach, which is hard with muscles, rising and falling with his trained breaths. It slips onto the bed, wetting it gradually by the second.

“I questioned you first.” I demand.

I can smell his eyes rolling a mile away.

“Yes. I attempted .. reaching her. She’s more stubborn now than I recall.”

I nod involuntarily. Stubborn was a nice word.

“So, you’re not her minion anymore?”

My focused brows shoot up. I drive my mien into his.

“Do you want me to screw up your wound?”

“Leila.”

Trickles and little indications of nerves meander through my body. I realize I’ve paused my work, and with a surge of purpose, I return.

“I don’t dislike the change. You’re finding yourself.”

I bite my gum. “So I have been a nobody until now?”

“No.”

I draw a cloth, lathered with soap around the borders of his wound. He mumbles something, maybe a curse, before speaking again.

“It’s gratifying to see you.. not so impressionable.”

I really do hate being timid and gullible sometimes. Thus, the reason Chani’s been such a magnetic force of my life. She has stiff, ardent opinions, and a defensive stance. Her caution keeps her ready to strike.

But I know this persona is who I am. Even now, with a callous expression discoloring my soft features, I understand—this isn’t me.

“Well, I can’t take care of you forever.” I speak with disdain, brushing away my probing thoughts. “Whatever you do in your pastime isn’t my business, but if you manage to break through this dressing a second time, for whatever reason, I’m getting another nurse to manage your carelessness.”

I hear a smile. “Yes ma’am.”

“Do you know what it is to be a nurse?” I begin. “No. You fight, and you thrust your blade at any living thing. We clean up. We witness the rubble of war, and we tend to the malignant products of violence.” I set the now empty bowl aside, my eyes cast far into the monochrome walls.

“You can’t afford to be careless. You’re the Messiah, Usul. And I surely cannot, either. I mess up, and you’re blood’s on my hands.” I pause. “In this very moment, we’re linked—so I just want you to do your part, as I do mine.”

“So I’m the source of your ire.”

My face scrunches into a frazzled frustration. “Did you hear anything I just said?

“I won’t mess up again. You can trust me.” I rest there, sitting above his body as my fingers dress his wound with ointment, a stone-cold countenance on my face. “What bothers you?”

I bite my gum grimly. “Don’t provoke me.”

“But if you keep your anger confined, what else might invoke it?”

“This isn’t the time for this, Usul.”

“-Paul.”

My fingers halt, propped against his warm skin as I meet eyes with Usul.

“What?”

“I would rather you call me Paul.”

I search my mind. Does anyone other than Chani call him Paul? His mother, of course. And Gurney, obviously. But the list drags to a stop there.

Is he marking the enhancement of our friendship? Maybe he’s egging me into transferring information. Altogether, it puzzles me.

Alas, I disregard my selfish thoughts. It’s foolish of me to pleasure myself with the thought that I might mean something special to the Lisan Al-Gaib. Sighing, I rise from my position.

“Okay, Paul.”

I turn to the table at my flank, taking up a pristine, fresh sheet of dressing into my hands. “Sit up against the headrest. ..Please.”

He does so without complaint once again. I approach him apprehensively. The silence is disarming. I can feel his gaze on me like a cool, unshakeable breeze.

As I begin my work, I succumb to his request.

“Counsel-Member Sarat has been my patient for the past week.” I swallow my shame while my fingers press into Paul’s stomach, attaching the covering gingerly. “He died today. Of infection. And .. and the counsel thought it fit for me to be demoted from my position as head nurse since, inherently, the war has ‘dulled my senses and muted my skills’. They’re rather unyielding in their blame, which they’ve..” I laugh dully. “..brutally pinned on me.”

“They’ve stripped you of your title as head nurse?”

“Mhm.” I confirm gently. It feels that, if I speak a decibel louder, I might crackle and fall apart.

“Give me an hour; I’ll give you your title back.”

“..Paul, it is not your place.” I tell him with warning eyes.

“What do you mean? Why not?”

“I-“ I grunt out an intermittent groan. “Do you really care if I’m head nurse or not?”

“You’re the best in your field. I’ve seen it, I witness it this very moment. Ignorance runs through the council, it’s rather obvious.”

If my complexion warrants it, I blush. I haven’t heard kudos of such high acclaim of late, or.. ever, perhaps. Hardness and disdain may have encrusted my heart, but his words seem to chip at the layers with ease.

“Just, don’t act yet.” I say carefully. “Today has been enough for me. A prolonged night of sleep might just be enough to relieve me of this stress.”

I apply one last morsel of pressure into his side with my palm, scrutinizing the dressing. Immediately, the strings of responsibility lay off of my shoulders. He’s alive, breathing, and his stomach is marked by white linen rather than the thick, maroon tints of his precious blood.

“And you. Our deal?”

I look for understanding in his face, yet I’m met with gentle confusion. I roll my eyes.

“Take care of yourself. Don’t fuck your wounds up, and I don’t have to stress about you.”

“Mmm, because you care so much about me?”

He says this blandly and with a husky tone. I chuckle, falling cocky. “You know what I mean-“

Something warming creeps up my waist. My eyes drawn to the sensation, I look down to see Paul’s hand at my side.

I lift my head. I’m met with his eyes—blue and slitted, brushed by the shadow of the dim light at the end of the spacious room. The cold throb of the air suddenly becomes terribly tangible.

Suddenly, I know. As he holds my gaze, as he holds me, I know. Every stalking thought of my intuition was valid—the prickles of tension were never figments of my wild imagination. That look, that look of his is polluted with infatuation.

I press myself away from him. “What is—what are you-”

“Just stop, Leila.”

His fingers dig a little into my skin. Suddenly, my walls are up. My shoulders surrender to stiffness; my breath refuses to release.

He leans in closer, stealing meager inches of the mattress.

“Isn’t it easier this way? We’re both stressed out of our minds, it hurts, I know. I can relieve you of your pressure, Leila-“

“You jest!”

I push him away with incredulous palms. This shocks me just as much as it does him.

“Chani. We both care for her—is this what you imply?! For two of her loved ones to betray her in one night?-”

“What is there to betray?!”

With a quickness I’m unable to fathom, we are then a mess of limbs; his legs have crawled forth and are propped onto mine, his arm bridging the distance, deft fingers bordering the brink of my neck and shoulder.

Not a wisp of breath sprouts from inside of me.

“She is frustrating. I know you’re angry with her, with how you so unabashedly project. You’re awfully transparent.”

“You are a cocky bastard.”

“Mm.”

Paul tilts his head, as if saying ‘see?’. I stifle a curse from spilling out, off my flaring tongue.

Warmth spreads like wildfire at my hip, as his left hand claims its spot. The thumb of his right ventures over my jaw and to my cheek, while his remaining digits curl around my neck. I repress a shudder, as well as a susurration at my mouth—one that would surely betray me.

“Don’t you see?” He says it so low, his voice crackles in its sudden baritone as he speaks. “Let me take care of you.”

My eyes flutter shut. My mouth gapes slightly; he leans closer and closer.

“You are Chani’s. Chani is yours.”

“You know that's not true.”

My breath trembles audibly. I can hear it in the thick air.

“Why don’t you act on your own desires?”

“How arrogant do you have to be? I do not desire one morsel of you-“

“Ah, I’ve yet to see you pull back.”

My lashes flutter, opening my eyes so that I can witness a peek of the image in front of me: he breathes me in like oxygen, as if he might suffocate any moment. I can see two slits of blue, their light dawning on me and onto the amalgamation of our intimate shadows.

“I'm afraid I know you better than you know yourself, Leila..”

I breathe in, desperately attempting to sort out my visceral thoughts. Maybe a mere moment of preparation, maybe just a little time ..

Yet he denies it. I breathe in, and Paul Atreides has ensnared me with his lips.

The power he has over me is, in itself, terrifying. I mold underneath his touch, every contiguity setting my skin aflame. Paul kisses like a savage—as we sway, his tongue slithering hungrily between my lips, our mouths a battle of uncertainty and voracity, I see him in a different light. The stiff, self-controlled, solemn boy stripped of his armor is revealed to be an animal, just like any other man.

He must be stressed out of his mind. His movement is desperate, his lips feral. His body snakes over me as my hands brush against his skin—each finger passing a rib one by one, drinking in his warmth. Skin of the Messiah.

Even if I refuse to merge with the Fremens’ united belief, I understand well, with awe and terror, Paul’s title and his power. It chills me, through flesh and into the cavern of my soul: I contact the armor of a royally begotten warrior, and I am all the same groped by the hands of a mighty killer.

Chani. Chani. Chani.

I miserably try to redirect my focus. It shocks me how insanely hungry I am for him—it never occurred to me that I had affection for Paul, but my desire flows copiously. I think back on Chani. I attempt to meditate and recall their love and what strife I’m paving.

And yet my body betrays me, These thoughts, even further, backfire.

I am angry. I am tired, and worn from Chani’s groping. The circumstance is rousing something in me—a beast of a feeling, a pit of animosity. Without caution, I shove Paul into the headrest.

“Stay still.”

I climb onto him. I look down, and find his glimmering blue eyes consumed with startled shock.

“Don’t you care about your wounds at all?”

I kiss him. I trap him against the head of the mattress, letting my hands run wild. With his waist bearing my weight, I begin to steadily ride his crotch.

Paul isn’t mine. In a perverse way, this motivates me further—he could be using me as a channel of relief or as a source for his irate, and he might even be infatuated with me. Yet once I’m immersed in my drive, and I’ve established a tantalizing pace to bounce over and over on his hard-on, I realize: I don’t really care. I want this, and I’ll take my goddamn share.

[visd3stele]

Between waves and dunes, there's us

summary: in another universe, paul takes chani to his home planet and she sees the sea for the first time

tw: none, just fluffy fluffed fluff

canon NON-compliant, slighty ooc

a/n: first time writing for paul and chani, let me know in the tags/comments what you think <3

Paul loved Arrakis, there is no denying that. He fell in love with its hidden dangers, making his heart leap with every uneven step he takes in the sand. He couldn't help but admire its people, how resilient they are, how crafty and smart. Admiration that grew in no time into tender care. He even longed for quiet moments when he wasn't training with Stilgar, attacking the harkonnens, or manuvering between fremen worshippers and non-believers.

Like warching the sun set with Chani. Listen to her speak about her planet with the softest voice he ever heard. Watching the blue dim in her eyes as gold begin to shine in the night. Chani spoke of the dunes, their beauty and her wishes for the desert to come to life again.

And while Paul could only agree, something stirred inside of him. A faint pain in his chest, watching the sand fly in the small evening wind. For a second, it was replaced with waves. High, blue, foaming waves crushing against the shores of his home. Salty water washing the green rocks of Caladan, greeting his palace in the early mornings, their whispers gently waking him up for training.

An unusual yarning took over him and before he could realize it, Paul found himself telling Chani all about the sea and its reign on Caladan.

"I don't believe it." She said, scrunching up her nose against the setting sun.

"I'll show it to you one day." Paul promised. And Chani laughed. She spent a lifetime dreaming about a future for her planet, one that turned into a legend more than a hope. She wouldn't start another faithless dream. She couldn't. Leaving Dune seemed just as impossible for Paul now as it was for her.

And Paul laughed too. But not because he knew how low the chances were he'd keep that promise. In his heart, he knew that as long as he won't lose sight of what's trully important he will see Chani to the seas of Caladan one day.

That day took its sweet time, but it eventually came. After defeating the harkonnens and driving them off Arrakis, Paul appointed Stilgar as leader. He left the planet in its own people's hands, a free Dune, benefiting in the known Universe after its resources, gaining a place along the Great Houses.

Paul Atreides had seen his revenge. Usul Muad'dib has played his part in liberating Arrakis to its bright future. Now, the Duke of Caladan had to sort out his own Court.

It was easier than he thought. Leaving the golden dunes of Arrakis behind, knowing Chani is riding a sand worm somewhere through them. But the promise they made each other ringed inside his chest with every beat of his heart.

"You will never lose me," she said, "as longs as you stay who you are."

"As long as there is breath in me, I will love you," he answered.

They both had duties to tend to. But their love was greater than any distance in the Universe.

"Don't just sit there, young pup," Gurney laughed. Paul named him emmisary for Arrakis and he has just returned... with Chani. In the private area they landed, Gurney allowed himself some casualty with his young Lord, who seemed even younger gaping wide-eyed and in awe upon seeing the woman he loves again.

"Paul!" Chani tackled him in a tight hug. She was happier, more easy-going. He couldn't help but smile to himself faced with this precious, unusual sight, before cupping Chani's face and bringing her in for a kiss.

"I missed you," he whispered in the short reprieves before their lips closed in on eqch other again. And again. And again, until Gurney awkawardly cleared his throat.

"I missed you su much."

"I missed you too, My Lord," she teased, before linking their arms together. "Now, I do remember a promise you made me a while ago. Something about dunes of water."

"Waves. They're called waves."

Paul led her to the shore. The tides were retreating, seaguls flying lazyly above it. The water rustled against pristine rocks, returning to the sea just to be pushed out again, further and further.

Droplets of water landed on Chani's arms, raising goosebumps on her skin. Her eyes rounded at the sight, hands wrapping around her torso against the chilly breeze.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. "Just like you said."

Paul smiled. And gently took her palm in his. "Come on, there's a lot more to do than admiring."

He took off his clothes, leving only his underpants on and urged Chani to do the same. The water was cold, tickling her bare feet, stealing the land from under her.

"Don't be afraid," Paul soothed her, feeling the grip on his arm tightening. "I've got you, okay?"

She never saw so much water in her life, except for the still fountain of the dead. But that was holy. Untouchable. And this sea of Paul... he made it look fun.

They took more steps into the sea, clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it. Slow step by slow step, Chani became more sure on her feet, slightly letting go of Paul to only hold his hand as he drew them closer to the end of the land inside the water.

Chani laughed as a stronger wave crushed against her knees, almost causing her to lose balance.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. That was just weird. In a good way."

Paul laughed too, wondering if he should show her how to swim already or if it was too soon. But Chani trying to move forwards made the decision for him.

"Wait up! You can't walk anymore. Here, let me show you how."

He lowered himself in the water, supporting Chani as she laid on her belly. Paul's hands circled her waist as he gave instructions: "Never stop moving your feet." "One arm at a time, that's it." "Do you want to try back swimming too?"

When they waves grew bigger and stronger, threatening to storm the shores violently, Paul and Chani raced each other back on land. They were dripping, shivering in the cold night air, but their cheeks hurt with wide smiles and where their bodies touched, they burned.

Not so long ago Chani taught him the ways of dunes. Paul was more than happy to show her the ways of the sea.

[bruisedboys]

would you guys be willing to drop some paul atreides thoughts in my inbox for me to wake up to <33 I would be forever grateful <333

[timotheechlamett]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES PT. 2

cover by @softhecreator 💗

PT. 1

warnings: hangover, anxiety, fluff, roommate! timothee, pining.

————————————————

The next morning I woke up before Timotheé, maybe even before the birds. I could already feel my neck and back pain from sleeping on the couch, not to mention the dull headache from the champagne.

What a way to start my Thursday.

I look at the idle TV screen, checking for the time, and mentally groan at the hour.

‘5:36 AM’

Too early to get ready and too late to go back to sleep. The thought of getting up crosses my mind until I realize my position. Being more awake brought me to the almost alarming fact that I had turned over in my sleep and was now face to face with Timotheé. I could hear his breathing, our faces an inch apart at best, and his arm, draped over my waist and nearly gripping the fabric of my shirt.

I labor my breathing in fear of waking him from my chest rising and falling too harshly. It almost feels like déjà vu looking at him so utterly peaceful, it’s not often I get to see him in such a state. So I take in every detail this time to savor it.

My eyes pull towards his eyebrows. He has those french brows, perfectly arched and almost too full— He got them done recently so the hairs between the two were barely noticeable. I reach his eyes next, his dark and full lashes light up a type of jealousy in me, I’m especially envious when they’re open.

Next, I move to the freckles painting his face, attempting to count them. I fail miserably. Each speck like the flick of a paintbrush too full, spattering across a masterpiece.

Finally, I drag my view down to his lips. Full, hydrated, and perfectly shaped— perfectly pink. I wanted to run the tips of my fingers across his star-flecked skin, across his lips, but I refrain.

I take him in entirely before my eyes reach his lips once again. I want to feel my lips against his, feel the warmth and wetness of his tongue while feeling the flicks of it against the roof of my mouth-

No. No. No. What the fuck, this is your roommate!

I mentally scold myself.

Suddenly I felt awkward, wrong, because I was making this something it would never be. Fawning over my roommate who was in every way too good for me.

He’d seen me when I first rolled out of bed in the morning on the way to our bathroom looking deathly, he’d seen me with my hair sweated and frizzed out from walking home in the heat, he’d seen me stuff my face every night as if I had no manners, he’d seen all my flaws everyday for the past three months.

I’m left with a decision. Wake him up to start my day and get as far away from him as humanly possible, or feign sleep and hope I don’t miss my alarm.

I worry my lip harshly as my heart beats faster, flicking between the two before looking back at the time.

‘5:58 AM’

How the hell did I spend twenty-two minutes staring at him? Well, it wasn’t that hard actually, he’s very— STOP.

I gently grip his wrist to move his arm, which is heavier than I expected, but his grip tightens around me and he rolls his body so he’s deeper into the couch.

Fuck it.

“Tim?” I whisper, shaking him gently, nothing.

“Timmy.” I say louder, “Timotheé Hal.” I shake him harder this time and he jolts up.

“What’s— You okay?—Uncomfortable? M’sorry—” He mumbles, his voice deep and raspy and I barely decipher what comes out. His eyes nearly closed as he starts scooting backwards more.

I could’ve melted, “No, I gotta get up.” I whisper tapping his shoulder softly.

“Hmm?” He’s already half asleep again.

“Tim, I have to get up, got work.” I lift his arm with more force but still gently.

“Oh m’sorry,” He retracts his arm as I get up off the couch, “Sorry.” He rests it in front of him, cuddling into the cushioning.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” I chuckled out in a whisper and bring the small blanket up a little more, making sure his feet were still covered.

I smile realizing he was already asleep again, snoring quietly, almost too quietly to be considered a snore.

I started for the bathroom and let myself look at him again for a brief moment before getting ready for my day.

I pour myself a cup of coffee while haphazardly eating the piece of toast balanced between my teeth. I check the clock.

‘7:04 AM’

I’ll be very early today.

I make sure there’s enough coffee left for Timmy, placing the pot in its respective place again. I grab my bag and make my way to the front door, slipping on my shoes, which are making more noise than I’d like, and start to reach for the doorknob before catching a very sleepy voice—

“Have a good day.” His words blended together, beginning to sit up from the couch, rubbing a hand against the sleep in his eyes with a tired grin plastered on his face.

“You too Tim.” I grin and slip out of the door, locking it behind me.

—

The work day goes by fast, reading over and editing articles took up a lot more time than you’d think. When I left my internship, I made way to the grocery store.

‘do you need anything from the store?’

4:47 PM

I snag a cart and begin my trek down the aisles, picking up snacks, toiletries I needed, and things for tonight’s dinner while I wait for his response.

I was occupied by some mint jelly, because who the hell eats mint jelly, when I got his reply.

‘Whyyyyyy did you go without me???’

‘Can you get those cookies I like? And can we have pasta tonight? (:’

5:05 PM

I sigh at the fact I got ingredients for stir fry but chuckle at the screen and stride towards the cookie aisle, I reply.

‘you’re a real pain in my ass you know?’

‘spaghetti? alfredo? pick a pasta’

5:06 PM

I lug the cart along, picking up a couple things from different isles, stopping to thumb through the magazines on display. I flip to a page with Timotheé’s face on it, the article mainly being about how he’s swooned the world already, how professional and intellectual he is. I snap a picture to show him later, my phone buzzes. I can’t help but laugh to myself.

‘Paskettiiii’

‘Thanks mom 💖’

5:16 PM

Yes, so intellectual this boy is.

—————————————

@softhecreator @shika1200

[witchywomanrunningupthathill]

Will You Hold Me?

Request: Hello! I was wondering if I could request a blurb or something similar abt hugging Paul Atreides (as best friends (gn reader))? I feel like he'd give great hugs and I'd never pass on a Paul hug lol. Thank you in advance!

Pairing: Paul Atreides x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Description: Paul gives you a (much-needed) hug

Warnings: depression, suicidal ideation

A/N: Sorry for the mini-writing drought. I’ve been trying to figure out my life and have been super uninspired lately b/c #depression, but here’s my attempt to both fill this request and convince myself that I don’t feel like dying on the inside :/

Only three hours had passed since you last thought about throwing yourself off one of the Arrakeen Residence’s balconies. It was a long way down the brutalist palace reminiscent of the Egyptian pyramids that were once on Terra. In truth, you didn’t really have much time to lend to these violent thoughts, whether it was the pitching yourself off the balcony or otherwise. You’d thought about the sand worms and the Fremen, and you doubted you’d stand a chance against either. Sometimes you even wished the Harkonnens, in all their entitlement and vitriol, would return to “their Dune” and off you once and for all. 

As these thoughts crossed your mind, hot tears streamed down from your bloodshot eyes. You sat in your chambers, staring across to the single window — if you even wanted to call it that. You sniffle before covering your face with your hands and sobbing silently. You didn’t want to feel like this. Miserable, helpless, misunderstood. 

You’d pray to the stars to fix you, take your pain away, rebalance your body, mind, and spirit. But despite your distress and sincerity in those requests, it seemed that your prayers had fallen on deaf ears. Maybe this was just the cruelty of the Universe. 

Or maybe you were just weak and unwilling to go out and actually do something about your pain. Pull yourself out of this mental hellhole. But it hurt so badly. Your soul ached. You longed for home — for Caladan, for cool breezes and rushing ocean waves, for the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, all of the things that helped you come back to reason when everything started to feel like it was spinning out of control.  Now all you had were the recordings of those sounds from a Caladan filmbook Paul had given to you ages ago. A far cry from the real thing, though, because you were constantly fast-forwarding, rewinding, pausing, and then playing the recording to avoid the commentary on the planet. It was too much work, to be honest. So, you usually found yourself sat on your unmade bed, frustrated and livid that the rest of your life was to be spent on a giant sand dune with half of the universe counting the days to House Atreides’ extinction. 

Perhaps no one would even notice if you did go through with the business on the balcony. Everyone was too busy running around, whether it was attending council meetings, going on aerial excursions around the desert, or even so desperately trying to find a moment for themselves, no one seemed to notice that you hadn’t been present for breakfast nor for your fight training. 

Except, he had. Paul never spent a day without the thought of you crossing his mind at least once. You two hadn’t had the chance to spend much time together since the move to Arrakis just five days ago. He was busy being a prince and you had your own commitments to attend to. Your spiraling thoughts halt as you hear the doors to your chambers slide open. You quickly wipe your tears and opt to lay down again. You pull a pillow up to your face in an attempt to conceal it. 

“Missed you at breakfast…and at fight training…” Paul says, trailing off. You smile sadly at him before turning your attention back to the pillow. He’s still in his fight training clothes, the linen top unbuttoned revealing his pale, lean chest still glistening with sweat. 

He comes to sit on the side of your bed. “You wanna talk about it?” he asks. You frown, keeping your head turned away from him as your face begins getting hot again, tears threatening to fall. 

“Not really…” you croak out. Paul studies you for a moment before pulling off his boots and scooting up next to you. 

“Please, can I see you?” he asks, combing his hand through your hair. His lips are centimeters from your ear. “Please?” he whispers, dragging out the word. You turn over, shoving aside the pillow you’d been using as a shield. 

“Will you hold me?” you mumble, failing to meet Paul’s sympathetic gaze. 

“Come here,” he says as he pulls you tightly into his chest. He kisses the top of your head as you snuggle closer to him. Then the floodgates open. You grip onto the thin linen of his top as you sob, the sounds echoing out into your chambers. Paul just holds onto you, rubbing your back. He’s not exactly sure what to do, but he recalls how his mother would comfort him when he got upset. So, he did his best to do what Lady Jessica did until your cries began to die down. Your forehead brushes against his damp chest. 

“Ew,” you grimace. 

“What?” he asks. 

“You’re sweaty,” you say, pushing away from him slightly and sitting up. 

“That’s never stopped you before,” he declares, trying to tease a smile out of you. Paul sits up and leans against your stone headboard. He directs his attention to the filmbook that’s still playing, its projection slightly grainy on the opposite wall. The filmbook was currently detailing Caladan’s agricultural industry. Something about pundi rice fields. You nudge your head back into his shoulder, giving him permission to embrace you again. 

“I can’t do it, Paul” you admit. 

“Do what?” he probes. 

“Everything. It’s just too much. My brain is like…overloaded with all of this. I feel paralyzed. I don’t want to do anything. But I feel hopeless if I don’t, if I just keep laying here…Everything is just really hard for me to do right now…I feel so alone.” 

Paul doesn’t say anything for a while. He rubs your shoulder, pondering his next words. 

“You don’t have to do anything right now, okay? This move has been hard…and things will probably stay challenging for a while, but we’ll get over this hump.” He looks down at you as you wrap your arm around his abdomen. “And you’re not alone — you’ve got me and mother and father…Duncan…even Gurney!” 

A knock sounds at the door before a young Fremen girl appears from around the corner. 

“Sorry, Samira, could you come back a bit later?” you ask, sniffling. 

“Of course. My apologies, jalalatukah” Samira says before quickly bowing and leaving the chamber. 

You turn back toward Paul, closing your eyes and resting in his embrace. 

“Let’s get you out of this room. Take a walk with me?” Paul suggests. You huff out a breath, considering his offer for a moment. 

“Okay” you say. 

“Yeah?” Paul asks as he pulls his arm from around you and moves off the bed. As you swing your legs over the side, Paul slides your shoes over to you before pulling on his boots. You mirror him. “Ready?” Paul asks, holding out his hands. You take hold of the boy’s hands as he helps you up. 

*jalalatukah - your majesty (my embellishment of the Arabic)

[clinquaant]

CHAMBER OF WISHES / Act I: Velvet Bones

Did you happen to notice my gaze so shy for I feared what might happen if I lingered too long in those catching eyes—but they call me back each time I try to cast my stare at the ground or sky. The clouds, they stretch so far and so wide but even their best efforts can't keep me from wandering back to your side, etched behind my lids, your likeness hides—all I dare to wish is to keep our souls tied.

— “Chamber of Wishes” by A.O.

pinterest / spotify / wattpad

[runihura-kek]

Does anyone knows a good fanfic about Paul Atreides (Dune 2021 movie inclined) x Female Reader...

I need help, cause my level of obsession is starting to win over my undying fixation with Thranduil...

and if u read "the shape of you" in Wattpad... yes that's the kind of fanfic I'm looking for.

[ghostgirl101]

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

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

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

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were absolutely perfect.

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

"Do you know what I am?"

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

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

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

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

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

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

"In this future, I am with you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's unfair."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⊹⊹⊹

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

The first step has been made.

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

[multific]

In Sickness and In Health

Paul Atreides x Reader

Summary: Paul fears leaving you while you are sick.

Paul hated to leave you alone, especially since you haven't been feeling so well lately.

Paul knew he needed to go with his father, but he didn't want to.

"I will take care of her." his mother tried her best to reassure him, but Paul was worried.

The love of his life, his beautiful wife has been forced to bedrest for the last few days.

The doctors examined you and determined that you had a simple illness.

A simple one, yet you suffered greatly because of it.

You had a high fever, you could barely eat and sleep was a difficult task.

You were separated from Paul the second day of your illness, now, he was only allowed to visit you.

He was kind enough to bring you books or read you some of his own.

"You must go, Paul, your father expects you to."

"I do not care. I don't wish to leave you alone."

"I understand, but I will be fine, I do feel better already, so please, don't worry too much."

"My mother said she will visit you often," he said as his grip tightened around the book he was reading to you. "I still don't want to leave you." he promised to be by your side, in sickness and in health.

"I will be fine." you said with a smile. Your smile made him believe that it might be all fine after all.

Yet, his worry never left him.

The next day, he left with his father.

Lady Jessica kept her promise and visited as often as she could.

You even started conversations with her. And she did enjoy talking about Paul when he was young.

Then, she even mentioned her marriage, and how she wished you and Paul wouldn't have to face the same or similar difficulties.

The week soon passed, and you were much better as you awaited Paul's return.

And soon enough, you were told that he was landing.

You rushed over, by the time you got there Paul was already off the ship, making his way to you.

"Paul!" you smiled as you slowly jogged over to him, he fully started running.

You opened your arms and wrapped them around him as he lifted you off the ground. You giggled into his ear.

"I'm so happy to see you." he said. "You look so much better."

"Your mother gave me a special tea, it truly helped," you said as he finally put you down on the ground and kissed you.

"I missed you so much." he said and you laughed a little.

"I missed you, Paul."

Paul never felt so relieved in his entire life. He was worried about coming back, so when he saw you, full of life and smiles, running over to him, the weight from his shoulders just disappeared.

All his worries left his body in a matter of seconds.

He held onto you tight and strong, afraid to let you leave his sight as he watched your face, full of life, your eyes, filled with love as you looked at him.

Not even in his best dreams did he ever imagine coming back home and finding you like this.

He was forever grateful for his mother for healing you.

He made a vow to never leave your side ever again, and it is a promise Paul intends to keep for the rest of his life.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Her Emperor, His Destiny

(Alpha!Paul Atreides x Omega!BeneGesserit!Reader)

Summary: Ever since Paul presented no omega has smelled remotely appealing to him. His only reprieve is his dreams that have been filled with nothing but an angelic voice calling out to him, the silhouette of a woman he can’t quite make out, and the sweetest saccharine smell. Wk: 3.2k

Warnings: General omegaverse behaviors, knotting, scenting, marking, breeding, Paul and reader are a soul bound pair, inappropriate use of the voice(by both Paul & Reader) , fluff, kinda love making? Idk this is much softer than my usual smut. I think that’s it, lmk if I missed any!! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: Listen… I know this is left field for me but I made a promise to myself that I would start writing for ME again, and that means writing whatever I want. I saw Dune 2 and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Paul is so alpha coded I feel like it was dropped in my lap.

Paul expected the air to be different, smell different, out in the desert planes of Arkkis. Thus far it’s as he expected. The smell of spice and sand permeate the air to the point that it’s over powering, flooding every single one of your senses. The sand lingers on any inch of exposed skin practically borrowing its way underneath. The smell of spice is so strong that it feels like it’s drowning you, invading your lungs and nostrils, coating them, leaving your insides feeling like sandpaper if you dare breathe it in.

But as he follows Stilgar into the sietch he can’t even be bothered with the glares and sideways glances from the Freman because the further they walk the more his senses are hit with an overwhelmingly saccharine smell. It was like someone was baking the finest pastry mixed with a warm milk bath on a cold winter's day. He had only ever smelled something as sweet as this in his dreams. A scent he’s dreamed of so vividly that it lingered in his nostrils when he woke, but he’s never caught a whiff of it in waking hours until now. There was no doubt in his mind that this is the same scent. The scent that’s haunted him every night since he presented. The scent of his omega, his destined mate.

“I can hear and smell you scenting back there, Paul Atreides… I suggest you get your pheromones under control before we enter.” Stilgar looks back at him with an apprehensive look and Paul apologizes nodding in agreement. “Mating is a very sacred thing to my people. Each pair must be approved and blessed by the high priestess. And all unmated omegas rooms are on the opposite side of the alphas. It is very important that you follow all rules, but especially this one. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand.” He understood the rule but does that mean he was going to follow it? He could certainly try. But that scent was intoxicating and the closer they got to the sietch the stronger it got. He knows given the chance, he’d break that rule in an instant. Consequences be damned.

“Many wait for their soul bound mate and majority of them die alone, never finding the one.” Paul found this odd. Soul bounds are few and far between nowadays and he comes from a place where mating is a transaction, a bargain, something of power and not of love. But as that sugary sweet scent swirls around him, almost making him dizzy, he thinks he might understand wanting to wait for your one. It’s been a few years now since he presented and no omega has ever smelled even remotely appealing to him. They either smelled of nothing or downright revolting, his only reprieve was in his dreams. His dreams filled with that sugary smell and the figure of a woman whose face he could never quite make out.

When Stilgar pulled his mother aside Paul found himself alone in a room filled with stares. Some looked at him in awe, certain he was their long awaited Maud’Dib. Others looked at him with disdain, snickering to each other as they shamelessly pointed his way. But he honestly wasn’t concerned with any of it, because as he sat against the stony wall the scent was stronger than ever. He could almost taste it. His eyes searched the room, craving nothing more than to put a face to the smell that has nearly become his drug. But as he looked across the various faces surrounding him, no one stuck out to him.

But he was certain she was in this room, if not this one than the next. That warm saccharine scent was so close it was as if it were right next to him. That’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Either this person was stealthy or he was so lost in thought he didn’t hear them approaching but when his head whips around to see who it is he feels like his heart is going to burst. He hears the sound of bells ringing, a sound that he’s only heard in the churches back home. There standing over him is the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen, beautiful, perfect, sweet smelling, you.

“Hello, Paul Atreides, I’ve been waiting for you.” You smile down at him sweetly, your eyes filled with adoration. You aren’t dressed like the Fremen, no tans or browns or stillsuit to be found. A black silky dress adorns your form, fitting you perfectly. There’s a sheer midnight colored scarf wrapped around your head and shoulders, framing your face like the greatest work of art. You weren’t Fremen. You were a Bene Gesserit. Or at the very least, one in training.

“I think… I’ve been waiting for you too.” Paul’s voice is trance-like, looking up at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. The sound of the voice you’ve heard so many times in your slumber sending chills down your spine.

“Won’t you come with me? I have so much to tell you.” You look at him eagerly, offering him your danity ringed hand.

“I don’t know if I’m… supposed to…” He wants nothing more than to follow you. He would follow you into one of the suns of Arakkis if you asked him to. But he knew he was already on thin ice here and he feared what would happen to him and his mother if he were to upset anyone further.

“Do not bother with them, they will see the way. They will see what I’ve seen. Soon they will be cheering your name. Come.”

Paul scans the room, all eyes are on the two of you but when he looks back at your reassuring smile it’s like no one else matters, no one else exists. He takes your hand, letting you pull him along through hallways and far away from prying eyes. You drag him into a room that he assumes is yours, shutting the door behind you.

“Have you dreamt of me, Paul?” You sit on the bed and pull the scarf from your head, leaning back on your palms. You look so beautiful and the room is engulfed in your scent. It clings to every inch of the space and radiates off of you in waves.

“Yes… have you dreamt of me?” He takes an apprehensive step toward you, leaving a few feet of distance between the two of you. His green eyes feel as if they’re eating you alive and the scent of him causes slick to rush into your panties.

“Yes, every night since I presented as an omega my dreams have been filled with nothing but you. And more recently I’ve had visions of you in my waking hours. Will you tell me, Paul, about your dreams?” Your voice is as sweet as your scent. The way you’re leaning back on your hands makes the silk of your dress taunt against your breasts, your peaked nipples on display. The sight of you and the unmistakable smell of your slick makes his cock stir in his pants.

“They aren’t very vivid… mostly just flashes of you from behind, the sound of your voice, you were always saying ‘come to me Paul, for I am your destiny’ but your scent? That was so clear to me.” He takes another step forward, reaching a hand out as if he’s going to touch you but he lets it fall to his side, like he thought better of it. “I didn’t know it was possible to have a sense of smell in your dreams, but night after night I was surrounded by your scent as I slept.”

“I could smell you as well and I smelled you the minute you arrived. But my dreams are much more detailed than yours. There is much you do not know.” You approach him, closing the small distance between you. You rest your hands on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”

“I’d love nothing more, omega.” His thumb gently caresses the apple of your cheek before traveling down to push some of your hair off your shoulder. He’s looking down at you expectantly, eagerly waiting for you to speak.

“Your dreams are correct, I am your destiny, and you are mine. I can feel the doubt in your heart, feel that you do not believe in yourself, do not believe that you are the Maud’Dib but you are, sweet Paul. For I have seen it.”

“Tell me? What have you seen?” He searches your eyes for signs of doubt or deceit but all he sees is truth there. Truth and the same adoring look you gave him when he first saw you.

“I’ve seen you learning the ways of the Fremen. I’ve seen you move them, rally them. I’ve seen a battle in which you win. I’ve seen you upon the emperor's throne, ruling over all, with me by your side, our child in my arms.” Your hands travel from his chest to take his face in your soft palms where you rub soothing circles on his temples.

“You saw… all of that?” Paul’s voice sounded exasperated, like what you’ve told him took all the breath from his lungs. He feels like it has. The finality and bluntness in which you speak tell him that your words are true.

“Yes, and more. There will be plenty of time to tell you about it all. But right now? I need you.” Right as the words leave your mouth a gush of slick drips down your legs. The presence of your mate triggering your heat weeks early.

“Tell me what you need, omega.” His voice drops an octave, taking on that deep alpha tone. It makes your heart speed up as another gush of slick drips from your core. You can’t help but think what it would be like if he used The Voice on you. Regularless of how absolutely blasphemous that would be considered.

“I need you, alpha. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up and lock your seed inside me with your knot.” Paul lets out a growl before reaching out, one hand gripping onto your hip to pull you flush against him and the other going to the back of your neck so he could connect his lips with your own.

The kiss starts off rough, eager, and hungry. But after a few moments his lips become tender against your own, his fingers threading through your hair as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You grant him access, immediately intertwining his tongue with your own, moaning at the taste of him.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, my moon. Ask for it and it is yours.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat where he runs the tip of his nose along your scent gland, inhaling deeply. “You wish for me to make love to you? Then I shall.”

Paul pushes the thin straps of your satin dress down your shoulders, kissing along the column of your throat, your collar bones, across your shoulders. You drop your arms so the straps fall the rest of the way down, the dress slipping down your body with them. Leaving you bare before him aside from the thin black material of your panties.

“Absolutely beautiful, angelic.” He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, your jaw, your neck, all the way down until his back knuckles are caressing the tender peaks of your nipples. He slides it across your chest, giving the other the same treatment before taking both of your tits in his hands. He gently squeezes them, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers, eliciting little whimpers from you.

“I heard your mother has been teaching you our ways. How is your training?” Paul raises an eyebrow at you, certainly wondering why you’re asking him about that at a time like this. “I only ask because I was wondering if you might want to practice on me.”

“Do you mean…?” He looks at you with wide eyes and you smirk, biting your lip.

“That’s exactly what I mean. I can feel your apprehension, don’t be afraid, I want this.” You lean into him, smashing his hands that are still on your chest between your bodies as you lean up to you run your nose along his scent gland, darting your tongue out to taste the sweat and spice that coat his skin. He grabs onto your shoulders, pushing you back so he can look in your eyes, searching for any signs of doubt. But as every other time he’s looked in your eyes tonight, he’s seen nothing but honesty there. Nothing but truth.

“Get on the bed on your back. Spread your legs.” Your body immediately reacts, doing exactly as he asks. Paul approaches the foot of the bed, standing between your spread legs. “That’s a good girl.”

His hands grip onto your knees, pushing your legs further apart, leaning down to shove his face between your legs. His nose runs along the soaked material of your panties, deeply inhaling the sugary sweet smell of your slick.

“Alpha, please.”

“You do not have to beg, my moon. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” Paul smirks up at you before lacing his fingers into the band of your panties and ripping them in half. He runs his tongue up your slit, circling it around your sensitive clit. The feeling of his hot wet mouth has you coming undone instantly, your slick gushing all over his chin and down his neck where it drips onto his shirt. He moans at the taste, sweeter than anything that’s ever graced his taste buds. “Yes, that’s my good little omega, give it all to me, let me drink in your sweet nectar.”

He dives back in, shoving his tongue as deep into your pussy as it can go, fucking you with it. His lips come up to wrap around your clit while his fingers circle your dripping entrance. He runs his fingers through your folds before shoving them knuckle deep inside of you.

“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum again, I’m gonna cum.” You move your hips against his face as he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, your legs clamp around his head and your entire body shakes as your high washes over you. Paul pushes himself up from the bed, ridding himself of his clothes before climbing back over to you, situating himself on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. His hard cock is resting against your lower stomach, the tip leaking precum onto your skin.

“I want to taste you too.” You run your fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. You didn’t even care that the ache between your legs wouldn’t be satiated until he was inside you, you needed to taste him.

“Next time. I need to be inside you now.” It comes out a soft whisper, his forehead resting against your own. He reaches between your bodies, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. He connects his lips with your own, kissing you passionately as he begins to push inside you. You both moan as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slipping your tongue into his mouth as his thrusts begin to pick up.

“Mmm you feel amazing, my love, my lord, my emperor.” Paul looks into your eyes as he continues to fuck you at a linguid pace, rolling his hips against your own as he pushes himself as deep inside you as possible.

“My moon, my destiny.” He picks up the pace, pushing up on his knees and wrapping your legs around his hips. Your tits jiggle with every thrust, the fucked out love sick gaze that you send his way makes his skin even hotter.

“I want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum. Put a pup in me. So we can fulfill our prophecy.” Paul snakes a hand between the two of you, connecting his thumb with your clit so he can rub circles on it in time with his thrusts.

“Open your mouth.” The sound of him using The Voice makes your walls clench around him, your jaw dropping open at his command. He leans down, letting the spit that had collected in his mouth drip down into your tongue. “Swallow it.”

You swallow with an audible gulp. Your heart warming at the gesture that anywhere else would be considered lewd but here on Arakkis to share one’s sacred spit with another was a grand gesture of love.

“Thank you, my love. You taste better than the finest feast. I cannot wait to know what your cum tastes like.” Paul groans at that, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. His thrusts start to grow sloppy but he refuses to finish before you do.

“Cum for me.” As soon as the words leave his mouth your walls are convulsing around him, sucking him as your slick soaks his cock.

“Mark me, Paul. Sink your teeth into my flesh and bind us together as we are meant to be.” You tug on his arms, pulling his upper half so it’s draped over you, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts become slow and deep again, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you.

“But Stilgar said…” He groans, using every ounce of strength in his body to not just sink his teeth into your soft neck.

“I do not care what Stilgar said. This is bigger than him. Bigger than all of them. Mark me.” His mouth moves before his mind can process what’s happening, his teeth sinking deep into your flesh, breaking the skin. The feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt. Electricity washes through your body, the most world altering orgasm of your life wracks through you, and you feel like your soul leaves you, connecting with Paul’s before returning to your earthly vessel. He pushes his hips flush against yours, ropes of his cum spilling inside you.

“Oh fucking shit.” Paul groans, pulling his mouth from your neck, gliding his tongue over the indents of his teeth. He leans back to look at you, eyes roaming your face. His knot swells inside of you and a look of pain crosses your features before turning into one of ecstasy. Loud moans leave your lips as your final orgasm of the night washes over you. Paul leans down, connecting his lips with yours, kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do. Though it was far from it.

“I hope you are not upset with me, Maud’Dib.” You take his face in your hands, running the top of your nose along his cheek.

“I don’t think I could ever be upset with you, my love. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on when you used The Voice on me…” he chuckles, resting his forehead against your own. “I am so happy I finally found you…”

“You have me now, until the day I take my last breath I will belong to you, Paul Atreides. Together, we will accomplish great things.”

[cassie48]

∙ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

(Eventual)Dark!Paul Atreides x fem pregnant reader

• Pt 1 •

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

You and Paul grew up together on Caladan. You were born on the same day, on the same hour. Paul’s mother lady Jessica had always seen you as a daughter and for some unknown reason, insisted that you and her son always stay together.

When you and Paul grew to become teenagers, feelings became involved, and a powerful love blossomed. When the two of you heard you had to leave for Arrakis, you were both petrified. But you knew everything would be ok, as long as you stayed together.

When the two of you arrived to the planet, the local fremen called Paul the “Lisan al-Gaib” and you the “malaka”. Neither of you knew what that meant. So, walking hand in hand, you glanced at each other, both your faces full of confusion and curiosity.

When you were told that the names meant 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 and 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯, both of you were confused.

The night before the imperial Sardaukar troops invaded Arrakis, you found out you were pregnant. It was a complete shock and you and Paul were barely 20. You told Paul as soon as you found out. He comforted you, saying the baby was a blessing, and you two would get through it together.

When the troops came in, all hell broke lose. Thankfully you made it out with Paul, and met lady Jessica before running for the hills. Your hand went to your belly, complete fear consuming you. You three managed to get a plane and fly out.

After surviving a storm, and a long, dangerous journey, the three of you ended up in Fremen territory. You met Chani, who was sceptical of your boyfriend, but seemed to like you.

One man was not happy with your arrival and even challenged Jessica. Paul fought for her, killing the man, after a long brutal fight.

As soon as he had done it, he walked straight up to you, he looked full of power and confidence.

“It’s ok my love” he had told you as he hugged you close to him, his hand eventually resting on you belly. Jessica had told you she was pregnant as well, which eased up your nerves, knowing you two would get through it together.

After a good few weeks with the Fremen, Paul learned the ways of the Fremen being taught by stilgar , you tried to do what you could , which was little as you were now coming up to almost 4 months pregnant.

It all changed when Paul rode his first sand worm, you stood with the Fremen watching along with them as you saw Paul do nearly the impossible, smiling at him

All the Fremen beside you stared yelling out 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗹-𝗚𝗮𝗶𝗯, some walking up to you before kneeling, and taking your hand yelling out 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗮, praising you

You were confused and scared, and just wanted your boyfriend to hold you. More and more people came up to you grabbing your hand, until suddenly you began to cry. You don’t really know why, but your emotions had been all over the place with your pregnancy.

As soon as Stilgar saw you crying he yelled out at the Fremen, asking them 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘩? 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘺!

Immediately they stopped, backing away with whispered apologies to you. When you told Paul later he was outraged.

“Do they think they can grab you like that? You are pregnant they could have hurt you or the baby!” He yelled out, pure rage in his voice.

“It’s ok Paul real-“ you started

“No. It’s not, you were crying, Chani told me. This has to stop” is all he said before pulling you into a hug, you resting your head on his shoulder, his head resting on your own.

Jessica had told you she thinks your baby’s is a boy, you believe her, as she is now the reverend mother. She had really changed, it scared you.

The Fremen and Paul continued fighting against the Sardauker troops, most were very successful. Sadly they blew up the temple, where many had been inside and where they prayed and laid their loved ones to rest.

Paul had been called down to speak with the leaders in the south of Arrakis, he took Stilgars place as he had been injured from the attack.

When you two arrived, Paul told you to go to sleep for a while, you were now seven months pregnant and your body was becoming tired more often.

After about two hours Jessica came up, yelling for you, saying Paul was in trouble. You jumped out of bed and waddled down to him as fast as you possibly could.

She told you he had drank worm blood, to gain an understanding of the prophecy and his future. She told you only your years would bring him back to life. Of course, you had already been crying, so it wasn’t so hard.

Paul gasped and sat up, coming back to reality, he glared seeing all the people surrounding them. He turned to look at you, smiling as he did, cupping your cheeks. You leant into his touch, throwing yourself into his embrace, letting many tear’s escape.

Stilgar yelled out “As it was written!” In pure shock.

“Paul why’d you do it!” You yelled, while crying into his shoulder.

“It’s ok. I understand now. This baby, it’s a miracle, 𝗛𝗲 shall rule after me” he said smiling while looking at you adoringly.

“What? I-I don’t understand! Rule?” You said still crying from the events.

“Trust me. You are the Malaka. You, are the most important woman on the planet right now. This pregnancy, it’s in the prophecy, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 were in the prophecy my love” he said properly sitting up.

“W-What?” You whispered still confused.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about any of this, you trust me don’t you” He said leaning in closer to you.

You nodded, leaning your body into his, your crying and worrying making you tired.

“Good.” Is all he said leaning into you and kissing you passionately, forgetting you two had a whole audience.

“Oh em well everybody give Lisan al-Gaib and the Malaka privacy” stilgar ordered as the Fremen left yelling out messiah words in their language.

You and Paul continued making out for around five minutes before he noticed how tired you were.

“Come my love” he said as he picked you up, holding you tightly in his arms. You leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, feeling completely safe in his embrace.

“No one will harm you, my love” he whispered as you drifted off to sleep.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

There will be a pt2!!

[andy-15-07]

can you do a fic with Paul Atreides, where Y/n is a bene gesserit and they find he is the One

Our love is powerful

masterlist ! pairing: Paul Atreides x reader

Dune Masterlist

In the mystical world of Arrakis, where sand dunes whispered ancient secrets, Paul Atreides and you, a Bene Gesserit, found yourselves entwined in a destiny written in the sands of time. The air in the Sietch was charged with anticipation as the Bene Gesserit sisterhood, with their millennia-old knowledge, discerned a truth that transcended the ordinary.

As you and Paul stood in the sacred chambers of the Bene Gesserit, the reverence in the air hinted at the gravity of the moment. The sisterhood, with their eyes that held the wisdom of countless generations, regarded Paul with a mix of expectation and acknowledgment.

"Y/N," one of the elder Bene Gesserit addressed you, "the threads of fate have woven a tapestry that binds your path with that of Paul Atreides. He is the One—the Kwisatz Haderach."

The realization hung in the air, a moment that echoed through the corridors of time. Paul, with his piercing blue eyes and a destiny that weighed heavily on his shoulders, looked at you with a mix of curiosity and acceptance.

"What does this mean?" Paul inquired, the weight of the prophecy settling on his young shoulders.

The elder Bene Gesserit stepped forward, her voice a melodic resonance that carried the echoes of ancient wisdom. "The Kwisatz Haderach—the One who can bridge space and time, unlocking the secrets of the universe. He who possesses both male and female ancestral memories, breaking the limitations that have bound humanity."

You, a Bene Gesserit bound by duty and destiny, met Paul's gaze with a depth of understanding. "Paul, you are the culmination of a plan set in motion by the Bene Gesserit sisterhood. The threads of our bloodlines converge in you."

The gravity of the revelation seemed to settle in the room. Paul, born into a lineage of political intrigue and ancient prophecy, found himself at the crossroads of destiny.

As you and Paul retreated from the sacred chambers, the Sietch buzzed with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. The sands of Arrakis seemed to echo the whispers of the prophecy that had been unveiled.

"Y/N," Paul began, his voice a quiet contemplation, "what does it mean for us? For our relationship?"

You turned to him, your eyes reflecting the weight of the truth. "Paul, our connection goes beyond the prophecy. The Bene Gesserit may have seen the threads of fate, but our love is a force that transcends destiny. Together, we navigate the path that unfolds before us."

The days that followed were filled with the intensity of preparation, as Paul embraced the training and revelations that came with being the Kwisatz Haderach. The Bene Gesserit sisterhood, with their watchful eyes, guided him through the intricacies of their ancient knowledge.

Amidst the trials and tribulations, your connection with Paul deepened. As he grappled with the weight of his destiny, your presence became a source of solace and understanding. Late nights were spent beneath the stars, the two of you seeking refuge in each other's arms.

One evening, as the desert winds whispered tales of destiny, Paul looked at you with a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Y/N, I may be the Kwisatz Haderach, but my heart belongs to you. Our love will be the anchor as I navigate the complexities of this path."

You smiled, a reassurance that transcended words. "Paul, no prophecy can diminish the love we share. The threads of fate may guide your journey, but our connection is a beacon that lights the way."

As Paul embraced his destiny, the sands of Arrakis witnessed a love story that defied the limitations of prophecy. Together, you and Paul Atreides forged a path that merged ancient wisdom with the unwavering power of love—a journey that echoed through the sands of time, leaving an indelible mark on the destiny of Arrakis.

[lex-the-flex]

Drinking the Water of Life

Paul Atreides x reader

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

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

But he loved you with all his heart.

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

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

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

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

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

"Paul, what is it?" You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

"It's time, Y/N."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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