#freman reader

Paul Atreides. The skinny, dark haired, and pale skinned boy you had fallen for. The boy who didn't care about being Lisan al Ghaib, but who rather hated it. The boy who would immediately shut down his mother's talks of her Bene Gesserit lore and prophecy, who would instead find solace and comfort in your arms.

This was not him. This was some blue eyed doppelgänger wearing his skin, you were sure of it. The sudden shift in his attitude and overall demeanor after having consumed the "Water of Life" sent a chill down your spine. Obviously, you weren't the only one that noticed. But you were the only one who was concerned about it.

Paul was becoming...distant. Especially from you. With his duties as the new emperor, it was understandable. Even more so, since he'd asked for Irulan's hand in marriage. The fact that he'd professed his love for you and then asked for such a thing in almost the same breath broke your heart and crushed your soul. You'd often see Paul accompanying the princess to meetings and such. Obviously he didn't love her, he never had 'that' look in his eyes when he looked at her.

'That' look being the one he'd have in his eyes as he'd sneak glances at you as you'd pass each other in the hallways of the grand palace or when you'd attend meetings as well to give some Freman insight. Saying that Paul hated this was an understatement. But he had to keep up appearances, attending meetings and staying one step ahead of his enemies.

That was another problem, his enemies. He always had to keep up with his image of being a stern and almost cutthroat leader, which meant showing no weakness, ever. Unfortunately, this also meant distancing himself from people he truly cared about: his mother, his unborn baby sister, and worst of all...you. After all, the only reason you were let into palace was by Paul's orders. He'd have to force himself not to love you, or at least act like it. Your greetings were met with a nod or a silent mumble, or, like most times, nothing at all.

It was late at night, the sound of your ticking clock keeping you awake. No, it was actually your never ending thoughts of none other than Paul. You wanted nothing more that to rush out of your room to his, knock on his door, and give him the biggest hug you could give, to run your fingers through his dark brown locks again, to tell him that everything would be okay. you stood up, deciding to take a walk through the palace to clear your mind. As you opened the door, you were met by Paul, mid-knock. His hair was a little messy and it seemed like he'd just retired from his study.

You didn't say anything, instead stepping aside to let him come in and closing the door behind him. There was a moment of silence that felt it had lasted a little too long before Paul spoke up. "How have you been? You seem to be looking well." Paul commented, standing in the middle of your room as you sat on your bed.

"Yes, I've been fine. And what of you?" He wasn't even looking at you. Yes, he was facing you and to anyone else, it looked as though he was staring straight at you.

But his mind was obviously elsewhere...he wasn't paying attention to you.

"Paul," you said, raising your voice a bit and reaching out to hold his hand. You could see him being pulled out of his state of distraction, your hand squeezing his.

"Talk to me. This is the first time we've been alone together in weeks. Please..." Paul could see the pleading in your eyes, a soft sigh leaving him as he sat down next to you.

"Don't worry about it," he brushed you off, pulling his hand out from your grip.

"I simply came to see how you're doing." An obvious lie.

"Paul, something's bothering you. You can tell me," you began.

"Y/n, I'm fine,"

"But you're not. I can tell it's eating you up inside: the visions, your enemies."

"Y/n-" He was staring to get irritated, not at you, but at the fact that you were right. It was eating him up, slowly consuming him and making him lose himself more and more each day.

"It's why you've been avoiding me, right? You're scared they'll take advantage of your affection towards me-" Paul stayed silent, his fingers curling up into fists as he looked at the floor.

You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "These visions don't define you, Paul! This prophecy doesn't define you! You can't just run away from us and face this on your own!"

That was easy for you to say.

You didn't have throngs of people either depending on you or praying for your untimely death. You didn't have the weight of the entire universe on your shoulders. "You don't understand-"

"I'll try to-!"

"YOU CAN'T!" Paul yelled, pushing your hands away from his face. You flinched, your eyes going wide as he stood up and ran his hands through his hair.

"You can't possibly understand the horrific things I've seen each time I so much as close my eyes. Do you know what I see? People dying from starvation. Holy wars being waged in my very name. The people I care about with every bone in my living body being slaughtered in front of me! And you," he turned to you pointing an accusing finger at you as if it were a blade.

"You sit here and act like you understand me?"

You didn't expect for Paul's words to hurt so much. He'd never raised his voice at you, and he'd certainly never yelled at you. You felt like a knife was being twisted into your heart as the boy you loved turned into someone you didn't even recognize.

"I'm just trying to comfort you-"

"Well stop! Because...because I love and care about you so much, it physically hurts me. I'd be a lost soul if something ever happened to you," You looked at your hands, feeling a whirlwind of emotions as you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. But you refused to cry.

"You should go. I'm sure Irulan's looking for you."

"You know we sleep in separate rooms-"

"Still...you don't need unsavory rumors on top of all you have to deal with..." You turned away from Paul, using the back of your hand to dab away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. You felt the bed dip, but didn't turn to look at him

"Y/n, look at me..."

You didn't answer, sniffling softly and moving to get up, ready to try your hand at kicking him out once again. A soft yell left your lips as Paul's slim fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled you right back next to him, his face so undoubtedly close to yours. You could smell the pent up emotion on him, a word of protest ready on your tongue.

Before you even knew what was happening, Paul's lips were on yours. You let your eyes flutter shut, yelping softly into the kiss as he pulled flush against him, leaving absolutely no space between your bodies.

Another observation you'd made was that ever since Paul drank the "Water of Life", he'd been extra aggressive in most everything: he'd give people harsher punishments, he'd execute orders with upmost precision, and when he loved...he'd love harder. His heart was practically bursting at the seams as all the love he'd been forced to shove down spilled out of him in the form of a bruising kiss.

You felt dizzy as paul pulled away from you, your cheeks flushed and your breathing a bit labored. The two of you just stared at each for a while, your fingers still twirling strands of his dark hair.

"Still want me to leave?" he asked, lightly brushing his lips against yours, his action making your eyes flutter shut. You felt your heart squeeze as you opened your eyes once again, gazing at him through watery eyes.

"Paul-"

"I know...I know." Paul's hands came up and cupped your face once more, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks and wiping away your tears.

"Me too...I'm sorry too..." he whispered before leaning back in to meet your lips again.

A shaky breath left your lips as you melted into the kiss once again, your hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he'd slip right through your fingers. Paul's fingers playfully danced beneath the fabric of the shirt of your sleepwear, slowly tracing the skin of sides, as if trying to relearn their curvatures. Your hand snaked up to tangle into his hair, a few tears flowing down your cheeks. Not because you didn't want this; in fact, you wanted this so much it almost hurt. Your breath hitched as you felt Paul deepen the kiss, his body pressing against yours.

As you pulled away, breathing a bit heavier and cheeks flushed, you swallowed and met Paul's eyes. the look in them was an untamed mix of love and something more.

"...We should stop..." you murmured, your hands moving down to cup his face. You felt him relax into your touch, your heart warming.

"You're right...but I don't want to-" Just as he was about to lean back in for another kiss, a rhythmic knock on your door stopped him.

"Ignore it." he muttered , a flash of irritation on his face.

"But-" Paul cut you off with another kiss, pushing you back into the mattress.

His lips started to move with newfound fervor, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses over the skin of your jaw and down to the dip of your neck. Feeling Paul's hands start to roam under your shirt caused a soft sound between a gasp and a moan to leave your lips.

"Paul..." you muttered, letting your eyes flutter shut.

Another knock made him hiss in annoyance.

"Y/n, are you awake?" Princess Irulan's voice asked from behind the grand door.

You and Paul looked at each other, his eyes giving you a serious look. He got up and reluctantly hid in the little space between your bed and the wall.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late at night." the princess said, a gentle expression on her face.

"Oh, no, not at all, princess. What did you need?"

"Just Irulan is fine. I was wondering if you'd seen Paul. He wasn't in his study." You felt your stomach churn as the princess said his name. You shook your head, muttering a quick apology.

"No, I haven't seen him today. Maybe he went outside to get some fresh air." you lied.

She gave your room a quick scan from where she stood and you knew she knew. She knew and decided to stay silent.

"Very well, have a good night."

"You as well."

Once the door closed, you were met with Paul's bright blue eyes as he stood behind you, a soft but startled yell leaving you. You hadn't even heard him get up. He reached out and held your hand, gently squeezing it and kissing the back of it, letting his lips linger for a moment. Paul then looked back up at you, leaning in and brushing his lips to yours one last time.

"I'll see you soon..." he whispered against your lips, a soft hum of a response leaving you. You squeezed his hand, feeling your heart skip a beat.

"Yeah...see you soon..." He pulled away from you, making his way to the door and opened it a crack, glancing for anyone else that might be awake.

Just as he was about to take his leave, you grabbed his hand, leaning back in to give him on final kiss.

"Good night." you murmured, your grip absentmindedly tightening.

You didn't want to let him go, not now, not ever. Not after knowing this would be the last night the two of you would share like this before Paul went back to wearing that dreaded mask of indifference.

"Good night."

You felt his hand slip from your as he took his leave, turning to meet your ocean blue eyes once last time. Now you knew, he still loved you, even if he wouldn't show it.🌙

From making things like paper and clothing, to being used to enhance the flavor of traditional dishes, spice (a.k.a Melange) was a very important commodity for the Freman people. They almost couldn't live without it.

It was odd to Paul Atreides that the Freman would put such a thing in their food, his body reacting rather negatively the first time he tried it. But soon, he got used to it, his body slowly adapting to its cinnamon like flavor. But what really got him was the fact that you guys would smoke spice. He'd never done it himself, only hearing from Stilgar and other Freman that it was mainly done for ritualistic purposes. But sometimes, they'd just take a puff or two to lighten the load.

The first time Paul witnessed spice being smoked was when he went to go ask Stilgar about the progression of his mother becoming the new fremen reverend mother. Stilgar was sat on the floor of the seitch, a small pipe between his fingers. Connected to the pipe, was a small chamber filled with spice, something at the bottom heating it up. Sand colored smoke curled at his chapped lips, his expression rather lazy and relaxed.

"Muad'dib, what seems to be the matter?" he asked, his accent thick on his tongue.

Paul's previous questions had left him as his eyes followed the flow of the smoke as it felt Stilgar's mouth and floated up to the ceiling, disappearing into the air. It also had a pretty strong smell, almost like a sweet and sour scent.

"Would you show me how to smoke spice?" Paul blurted, his mouth moving faster than his brain.

At first, Stilgar was silent, pausing as he was about to take another puff. He looked Paul dead in the eyes, and then...he laughed. He laughed for a good while, his eyes landing back on Paul whose expression hadn't changed.

"Oh, you're serious-" Stilgar mumbled as he calmed down from his bout of laughter.

"Short answer: no. Long answer: you're not used to such."

"But I eat the food of the Freman-"

Stilgar cut Paul of with an amused snort. "Just because your stomach is used to spice, doesn't mean that your lungs are. Sure, you breathe in a few mouthfuls of spice when we go on sandworm rides and such, but this-" Stilgar tapped on the small glass spice chamber, the sound echoing in the small room.

"With a high enough dose, this can kill a man. That's why we smoke it in moderation."

"Then I'll just-"

"No! And I mean it, Muad'dib." Stilgar waved Paul off, the brown haired boy letting out a huff.

As he walked out, he felt a presence watching him. All of a sudden, someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a corner. In a moment of panic, Paul pinned the person against the wall, holding his crysknife to their throat.

"Whoa, whoa! Calm down! Paul, it's me. Y/n..." you said, your eyes wide and muscles tense as the blade was mere inches away from slitting your throat.

Once he realized it was you, Paul relaxed, loosening his grip and sheathing his crysknife.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he asked, letting out a breath of relief. "Just how long have you been standing here?"

"Long enough to know that I can give you the experience you're trying to have." you quipped, Paul giving you a tense look.

"You won't get in trouble?" he asked as you pulled him down the hallway of the seitch.

"Don't worry. I'll handle Stilgar. Now come on."

You managed to successfully distract Stilgar for long enough to "borrow" one of the "spice smokers." You and Paul were now sat in your tent, his gray-green eyes watching you as you pulled a small sachet of spice out of your pocket. Opening the lid, you poured it into the small chamber and clamped it shut. With the press of a button, the chamber started to heat up, the strong scent passing through.

You took the honor of going first, lifting the pipe to your lips and taking a quick puff. Paul watched in amazement as you parted your lips, the beige colored smoke filling the air in front of you.

"Your turn." you said, passing the pipe to Paul.

His fingers brushed against your own as he took the pipe from you, a strange shiver running down your spine. You sat back on your hands, watching as paul brought the pipe to his lips.

"Just inhale it." you told him, the dark haired boy nodding. He placed the pipe between his lips, taking a big breath. He held it in his mouth for not even two seconds before he started coughing uncontrollably.

"What the hell?" paul croaked, feeling a burning sensation in his chest.

You had to bite back a laugh, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "It's okay, that's how it is for everyone their first time. Here..."

You took the pipe from him, looking at him as you walked him through it. "You're not trying to swallow the spice, alright? Take your time inhaling...do it slowly. Don't hold it in, it won't do anything. Then slowly exhale. Like this-"

You brought the pipe to your lips, slowly inhaling the sand like substance. Almost immediately, you let out a puff, the smoke curling at your lips.

"I think I get it now." Paul insisted, reaching for the pipe. He did just as you had, coughing a bit less and successfully letting out a small plume of smoke.

"There you go. You're a natural! How do you feel?" you asked him, already starting to feel loopy yourself.

"...Good, but in a strange way..." he mumbled, taking another puff. "I kinda...I kinda like it."

It wasn't long before you two were as high as spacecrafts. You two sat there, talking about the mysteries of the universe, Paul's latest visions and dreams, and anything else really.

"Have you ever thought about just how huge the universe is? It's...crazy to think about..." you drawled, your eyes tinted a bit more blue than usual.

"I mean...yeah. With being "Lisan al Ghaib" I kinda...have to." Paul responded, lifting a finger to touch the smoke that just left your mouth.

"Do you really believe in all that...prophecy?" you asked, your bodies feeling light and tingly. It felt nice, like you were wrapped in a big blanket.

"If I'm being honest...no. Doesn't help that my mother's shoving her propaganda down everyone's throats or that Stilgar still believes it." Paul answered, his tone low and mellow. the spice was kicking in real nice now.

"Just want this shit to be over....all this stupid war and stuff. I want to enjoy living with my people and not have to fear for their safety..." you muttered, resting your head on paul's shoulder.

"Stupid houses and their stupid war...stupid prophecy..." you grumbled, your head moving a little as a laugh vibrated through Paul. You could feel his hand come up to brush some of your hair out of your eyes, your eyes fluttering shut.

"I'd rather sit here and get high with you than go fight some stupid war." Paul said and now it was your turn to laugh.

You took another puff, peering over at Paul for a moment. "Open your mouth. I wanna try something."

Yoi inhaled once more, leaning over to face Paul as he parted his lips. You exhaled, letting the smoke escape your mouth and enter into Paul's, a slight shiver running down his spine.

"Do it again." he whispered, the pipe already between your lips once again. You leaned in a bit closer, your lips hovering over his. Paul's lips parted and once again, you let the smoke trail from your lips to his, a lazy smile forming on yours.

"Again-" Your lips were on Paul's in no time, the leftover smoke and cinnamon-like taste of the spice on your tongues mingling. Your hands were immediately in his hair, Paul cupping your face in his hands as your bodies melded together.

The soft sigh of satisfaction that left Paul's lips made your stomach fill with butterflies. Your heightened senses made the whole experience that much more enjoyable for the both of you. You could practically hear each other's heartbeats, feel each other through your clothes.

When you two parted for air, you took a moment to look at each other, your eyes half lidded and full of unsaid thoughts of one another.

"You're so good at this..." Paul breathed, moving one of his hands to fiddle with the hem of your shawl.

"So good at what? Smoking spice or kissing you?" you questioned, goosebumps forming along your skin.

"Both." Paul muttered as he leaned in to steal another kiss from you.

Right when things were about to take a rather...steamy turn, you heard someone calling your name from outside the tent. You poked your head out to see Chani, dressed in her stillsuit.

"Stilgar, needs u-! Y/n, have you been smoking spice again? You know Stilgar'll be pissed if he catches you." Chani warned, your blue eyes rolling at her nagging.

"Yeah, yeah. We'll be out in a minute."

"We?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. As if right on time, Paul poked his head out as well, giving chani a slight nod. You could see the slight disappointment in her eyes.

"You...you two were...! Just go get your stillsuits!" the girl grumbled before starting to walk back through the tents. You stood up, pulling paul to his feet and tucking the smoke chamber into your shawl.

"We should do this more often." you breathed, taking in the slightly dazed look in Paul's eyes as you two began your descent down the sand dunes.

"I just might take you up on that..." Paul answered, his fingers brushing against yours. Oh, what he would do to taste the spice on your tongue once more. 🚬

You.

You were the reason why Paul Atreides hadn't gotten an adequate night's sleep in the past few weeks. Every time he'd close his eyes, instead of seeing pitch black darkness or some other vision, he'd see you. He'd see your beautiful smile, your soft hair, your perfect body. The crazy part was he didn't even know you. Paul swore he'd never met you in his life, that these dreams were the first time he'd seen someone like you, your bright blue eyes staring into his soul.

When he'd voiced his concerns about the dreams to his mother, Lady Jessica assured him that it was just that, a dream. But she knew deep down that sooner or later, you'd meet her son. And it seemed it would be sooner rather than later. With the sudden fall of House Atreides, Paul and his mother had to evacuate out to the desert, nothing with them except for the ring of House Atreides that sat in Paul's pocket.

That night, Paul dreamt of you again. Each dream would start off different: you two meeting in the desert, you two watching the sand dunes together, you teaching him to sandwalk properly, etc. But, every dream always had the same ending.

Your lips pressed to his in a kiss so passionate, he could practically taste the spice on your tongue. You'd be sitting in the comfort of a tent, the smell of spice and overwhelming passion intensely pungent. Your fingers would tangle into his curly brown hair, Paul's hands moving from your waist to the hem of the shirt of your sleepwear. He'd pull away and mumble an ask of permission, the word "Yes" leaving your lips before he'd even finished.

He'd see himself slowly peeling your sleepwear off of your body, his heart thudding in his chest. He'd practically feel you undressing him as well, your bodies molding together as one. He'd see everything after that in blurbs: the sound of your heavy breathing, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your fingertips caressing his back as he'd make love to you. Then, just as things were getting to their peak, he'd wake up, covered in sweat, his heart going a mile a minute. Just who was this girl that occupied his dreams every night?

When Paul first saw you in person, he couldn't even speak. His mouth went dry and his hands got super sweaty as his heart thudded in his chest. You looked exactly like he'd dreamed: warm, sun-kissed skin, the prettiest hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, and that smile....the smile he'd see every night before he got an almost otherworldly taste of your lips.

You'd only spoken on a few occasions, your attraction to one another growing as the days and weeks passed. But then, he'd changed. He'd started avoiding you, making you think that he just didn't like you. Each time you'd try to strike up conversation with him, he'd give you a one word answer and just walk off. After that, you started avoiding him too, walking right past him when he'd ask you something or completely ignoring him during sandworm rides.

Enough was enough. One night, you wandered around the tents, finding that paul wasn't in his. Lady Jessica told you he'd gone to sit up on the dunes, something he'd been doing often since coming to live with the Freman. You slowly made your way up the sand dune, sitting a few feet away from him as to not make him uncomfortable.

"Did I do something to offend you?" you asked, drawing in the sand with your finger.

Paul didn't answer at first, and just as you were about to get up and leave, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back down next to him. He was so close, too close. You could smell the faint spice on him, your heart skipping a beat.

"No....you...didn't do anything."

"Then why-"

"I've met you before," he blurted out, a look of confusion crossing your features.

He'd met you before?

"Not literally. I've...had dreams, as you know. But recently," Paul took a breath, glancing up to meet your crystal blue eyes.

"Recently, they've all been about you....actually, that's a lie. I've been seeing you in my dreams since before we landed on Arrakis."

Your eyes widened a little, your body relaxing a bit. He'd been dreaming about you all this time.

"What do you see in these...dreams?" you asked. It was evident that your question had an interesting answer by the way Paul glanced away from you for a second.

"I see you, laid out in front of me in all your glory. Your eyes, it's as if they're...pulling me in. You lean in, then I lean in...then-" he trailed off, the pale skin of his cheeks turning a shade of red.

Then it clicked, and you were blushing too.

"....You know...I'd be lying if I said I didn't develop feelings for you the first few weeks you were here..." you admitted, feeling a strange tingle in your chest. Paul let go of your wrist, his hand slowly moving up to cup your cheek.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" the question was so simple yet held so much weight.

Your heart was beating in your ears, a shiver running down your spine as his breath hit your cheek.

"...Yess....yes, I do. Do you...want to kiss me?" you questioned, the look in his eyes making your knees go weak. Good thing you were sitting.

"More than anything." he whispered before closing the gap between the two of you. The kiss started out soft and slow, soon taking a passionate turn.

It wasn't long before you were dragging Paul through the sand dunes, back to the privacy of your tent. Once the two of you were inside, Paul was on you in an instant, pressing you against the makeshift mattress as he kissed you with newfound fervor. Your fingers tangled into his hair, just like he'd dreamed of. But this was better than his dreams, by a thousandfold. Passionate, breathy whispers, heavy breathing, and words of love and affection filled the air of the tent as the two of you melded together.

By the time it was all over, Paul held you close, his face buried into your neck as he caught his breath. You breathed deeply, your free hand gently stroking his hair as he shifted to look up at you.

"You're definitely the girl of my dreams" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of your shoulder.

You felt your heart warm from his words, pressing a kiss to his forehead and letting your lips linger there for a moment.

"I love you, Y/n~" Paul said as his eyelids started to grow heavy.

You smiled softly, moving to nuzzle up to his chest. at that moment, you knew you'd forever love this Caladanian for as long as you lived.

"I love you too, Paul Atreides~" 💭