Timothee X Reader - Blog Posts

happy birthday little timmy tim

Oh? Is that so? (Pt. 1)

Warning(s): Timothee looking so cute that you might faint. Very short, Im tired

Laurie and you have been friends since we were kids, and yet there was always a strange tension between you two.

“Laurie, can put this necklace on me?”

“Why?”

“A date.”

“Wait. WHAT?!”

“A date, a man shall try to court me and I shall have to either refuse or oblig-“

“I know what a date is. But you never told me that you were going on one!”

“Do you have to know?”

“I do”

“and why is that?”

“Um- I-uh”

Actors and Actors (Timothée Chalamet x GN reader fluff)

Request: Yes

Pairing: Platonic Timothée Chalamet x GN reader fluff

Synopsys: You and Timothée are doing the 'Actors on Actors' interview

Tw: Nothing pure fluff

Note: I wrote it for a friend and I hope you will like it! There is a bit of French in this fic but don't worry the translation is at the end :)

“Here?” you said while pointed to one of the empty chairs.

    The assistant nodded and you sat down, followed by the one and only Timothée Chalamet, your partner for Variety Fair’s famous video ‘Actors on Actors’. When he was finally well-seated, he looked at you and took the nervous smile on your face and the fidgeting of your fingers.

“Hey, everything will be fine, I mean, I know that I am handsome, but I don’t bite.” He said with a cheeky smile, trying to calm your nervous mind. It worked with the laugh you let out at his comment, and you were grateful for his gesture to ease your mind.

To say that you were on edge is an understatement, you were so anxious for today. It was your first time filming a big video like ‘Actors on Actors’ and for a big company like Variety Fair. As a French actor, you got a pretty important role in the movie “The Fall Guy” directed by David Leitch and it was one of the best moments of your career. You had a really good time with everyone on the set and being able to play with so many incredible actors was amazing. With the movie’s good appreciations, Variety have chosen and paired you with Timothée Chalamet after his spectacular performance in “Dune part II” and maybe because the two of you can speak French.

“I hope that you don’t because it was not the plan of filming a horror movie.” You said trying to match his playfulness.

Timothée shrugged with an upside-down smile, and you chuckled back before the interviewer told you that the filming was starting. Both of you readjust your posture in the chairs and you give yourself a small prep talk.

“So, first of all, congratulation on both of your movie, you two gave us amazing acting.”

“Thank you, but we really should congrats more Timothée for his role of Paul Atreides because it was breathtaking!”

“I know right.” He said with a small smirk

“Oh yeah, I mean, how you play this character, the accuracy with the book, everything! I saw this movie so many times with how much it impacted me, and I wanted to see all the small details that I could have missed. I know that we already talked a little bit about it but does the character of Paul Atreides affected you like he affected the audience?”

You asked him with stars in your eyes. As a lover of the book series, you couldn’t help but gush about it. Timothée took a bit of time to think about it and seeing your excitement made him smile.

“Of course, it was inevitable. Paul is a very complex character to play and engage with. A lot happened to him in the book with his sudden change of scenery in the second part of the first book, I needed to grasp his new attitude and his way of thinking. I am thankful for the help of Denis and his knowledge of the universe; it really helped me understand the character and I know that a part of Paul will always be in me.”

You snort at the way he phrased it and Timothée sends you a wink with a knowing smile while the people around you rolled their eyes playfully or hidden their laugh.

“We always take a small or a big part of the character that we play. For now, and forever, I’ll always sing when their chocolate.” You chuckled.

“Mais maintenant parlons un peu plus de toi* !” You nod, understanding him. “It was your first international movie, right? How did you find it? Saw a lot of difference between French movies?”

 “Le fait qu’il n’y ait aucune baguette au petit-déjeuner, j’ai dû m’adapté…**” You said, faking a tear, while he grins when he saw the look of pure confusion on the face of the filming director.

“To be more serious, it was a wonderful first experience, yes there was differences and at first, I was so scared of doing something the wrong way or saying lines in French, but David quickly reassured me and told me how he liked to work with the actor. Also, my character was a lot on screen with Winston Duke’s so we bound pretty quicky and he gave me a lot of tips that I cherished for next movies. Overhaul, everyone was cool when I made small mistakes, I really appreciate the time on the set, and I saw Ryan Gosling for real, so a win is a win.”

Timothée nodded his head at your answer, and you continue to question and laugh at what the other says. You talked about your different roles, things that inspired both of you and the different countries you went to for a set, cracking jokes between everything and talking with the people around you to share experience. The vibe was chill and you felt yourself not as anxious as before, everything went smoothly. Until…

“QUOI? TU VAS TE COUPER LES CHEVEUX ???***” You said with disbelief, wide eyes looking at the other actor and now friend.

“For a role yes and I need to grow a mustache.” He shrugs again, not seeing the heart breaking look you did.

You throw yourself at the ground, joining your hands together “praying”.

“R.I.P your long curly brown hair…You will be missed”

Timothée laughs loudly at the sight in front of him before showing his face in his hand, joining you fake misery. Grinning, you stood up and dusted your jeans before seating back on your chair.

“A bit dramatic don’t you think huh? It’s just hair.”

“Timmy, it’s the internet.”

He shook his head with a smile, and you raised your hands, shrugging back at him.

“Don’t tell me that I was right when you’ll do the reveal.”

    After this funny moment, the both of you answered some questions left about your career, next projects and about anything else, still laughing at silly jokes and arguing on what is the best French dish. You ended the shooting with agreeing on the Raclette with a handshake and you said again your appreciation.

    You and Timothée left the set and went to the dressing room to change and prepare for the famous ‘Actors on Actors’ shooting photo.

With the vibe of the filming still in the air between the two of you, it was a bit difficult to pose seriously and again laughers filled the room at both of your antics and silliness with the goofiest pose you could ever make together.

Finally, after taking an acceptable shot for Variety, you two leave the place and saw that it was dark outside.

“Man, I’m beat…is it always this exhausting?”

“Yup.”

You groaned and he patted your back affectionally.

“It was your first time; you’ll be used to it don’t worry and you did good. I had an amazing time with you."

You smile gratefully at his side, but you stop when you hear your stomach rumble which made Timothée grin.

“I know a place that make good thing if you’re hungry.”

“Lead the way then!”

----------------------------------------------------------

Translation:

*But now, let's talk about you!

**The fact that there were no baguettes during Breakfast...I got used to it

***WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO CUT YOUR HAIR???

----------------------------------------------------------

Thank you so much for reading this, I really hope that you liked it! :)

Sorry again for my grammar errors, English is not my first language :)

Forever you

Lee is cursed with immortality, and he finds Y/N's reincarnation every time.

Vampire!Lee x Reincarnation!Reader

words: 3.5k

warning: mentions of death, blood, m*rder, reincarnation, abuse , war (brief)

note: school is taking up my time. Unedited

find more here: masterlist

It was the year 1060, the village sat on the edge of a dense forest, untouched by war but not by whispers of creatures that lurked in the dark. Lee had no business here, yet he found himself drawn to the small stone hut at the heart of it.

A storm had rolled in, and with it, the gnawing hunger he had grown to hate. He needed to leave before he did something unforgivable. But then, the door to the hut creaked open, and she stood there—Y/N, her lantern’s glow illuminating wide, cautious eyes.

“You look half-dead,” she remarked, stepping forward.

He nearly laughed at the irony. “I suppose I do.”

“Come inside before you freeze.”

She wasn’t afraid of him—not when he stumbled in with wounds that should have killed any normal man, nor when his skin remained ice-cold even by the fire. She asked no questions, only tending to him as her mother once had for wounded knights.

Over the weeks, Lee stayed close. He helped gather wood, watched her mix herbs, and listened to her hum old songs that stirred something ancient in him. Y/N was kind, but sharp-witted, never failing to call out his silences.

“You always look like you’re carrying a burden.”

He glanced at her, stirring the pot over the fire. “Maybe I am.”

“Well,” she huffed, leaning against the table. “You should set it down every once in a while.”

It happened by the river. The sun was dipping below the trees, setting the sky on fire. Y/N stood barefoot on the bank, watching the water swirl between her toes.

“You’re staring.”

Lee blinked. “Am I?”

She turned to face him fully, something unreadable in her gaze. “You always do.”

Before he could think, she reached for him, fingers curling in the fabric of his tunic. When she kissed him, it was nothing like the hesitant, fleeting gestures of courtly lovers. It was warmth, life, the taste of honey and herbs.

For the first time in centuries, Lee felt human again.

The night was still, but Lee knew danger when he felt it. He woke to the scent of blood, not Y/N’s, but the slaughtered lamb outside the hut. A warning.

He knew he couldn’t keep this from her any longer.

That night, he found her sitting by the fire, waiting for him. Her eyes followed him as he paced, struggling with the words.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, voice low.

She curled a brow. “Oh? You’re secretly a nobleman? Or—gods forbid—a bard?”

He almost smiled, but the weight of the truth held him back. “I’m not… like you, Y/N. I haven’t been for a long time.”

She tilted her head, curious but unafraid. “Go on.”

He took a breath, then met her gaze. “I don’t age. I don’t die—not in the way humans do. I… survive on blood.”

The silence stretched between them. Then, to his utter shock, she smirked. “You’re not about to tell me you sparkle in the sunlight, are you?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You know,” she waved. “Shimmering skin, brooding forever, that sort of thing.”

Despite himself, a laugh escaped him. “No. I avoid the sun because it weakens me, not because I… glisten.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. “So, are you going to eat me?”

His amusement faded. “Never.”

She studied him for a moment before shrugging. “Good. Then I see no reason to be afraid.”

“You should be,” he murmured. “You don’t understand what I am.”

“I understand enough,” she said, softer this time. “You’re Lee. You help me gather wood, you listen to my terrible singing, and you burn the stew when I let you cook. That’s enough for me.”

They stayed together after that. Y/N made jokes about his brooding and inhuman coldness, but she never feared him. They danced under the moonlight, shared whispered stories between breaths, and Lee let himself love without fear for the first time in his immortal life.

But time was cruel.

Sickness took her slowly. Lee tried everything; fetched herbs, stole medicines, pleaded to gods he didn’t believe in. Nothing stopped the inevitable.

“Stay,” she whispered, voice weak in the flickering candlelight.

Lee clutched her hand, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’ll find you,” he swore. “Every time.”

And as her last breath left her lips, Lee sat in silence, knowing this was only the beginning of his endless search for her.

He wandered for years, waiting for the pull, for the feeling deep in his bones that would lead him back to her. And then he found her again. Different life, different name—but it was her. It was always her.

He never told her, not at first. He let her fall in love with him the way she always did—slowly, sweetly, as if for the first time. But the truth always came out. Sometimes she laughed when she learned what he was. Sometimes she was afraid. But always, in every life, she stayed.

And always, in every life, she left him in the end.

And still, he searched.

The year was 1300s and this time he found her in the bustling market square, the scent of fresh bread and spices filling the air, the chatter of merchants blending into a steady hum. But it was her laughter that cut through the noise, clear and familiar, sending a shiver down his spine.

He knew her the moment he saw her. He always did.

For two days, he followed at a careful distance, watching the way she moved, how she spoke with ease, and how she tossed a playful remark to the baker’s apprentice. He wanted to approach, but how could he? How did one explain centuries of longing?

It was she who finally ended his hesitation. Spinning on her heel in a narrow alleyway, she caught him lingering in her shadow.

“Are you following me?” she demanded, hands on her hips. Her sharp stare knocked the breath from his lungs. It was her, through and through—that stubborn courage, that fire he had loved before.

“I was hoping to talk to you,” Lee admitted, voice low, almost reverent.

She raised an eyebrow. “Then speak.”

And somehow, he found himself walking her home that evening, conversation flowing as if they had known each other forever. In a way, they had.

Lee learned that Y/N was headstrong, witty, and too clever for her good. She spoke of faraway places with longing, of adventure and stories that she dreamed of living by herself. She was restless in this life, much like she had been before, though she didn’t yet know why.

He became her shadow, not out of fear but out of need. He couldn’t leave her, not again. He helped carry baskets when she let him, stole apples from carts to hear her gasp in feigned disapproval, and listened to her hum old songs that stirred something ancient in his chest.

“You don’t talk much,” she mused one evening as they sat by the river.

“I talk when it matters.”

“And when does it matter?”

He looked at her then, the last light of the sun catching in her hair. “When it’s with you.”

The spring festival soon came with laughter, dancing, and the scent of blooming flowers. Y/N had dragged him into the square despite his protests, her hand warm in his as she spun them into the crowd. The music was fast, the world around them a blur, but Lee only saw her—her flushed cheeks, the way she bit her lip when she laughed.

When the dancing ended, they stumbled out of the crowd, breathless. Lanterns glowed above them, flickering light casting golden patterns on her face. Without a word, she grabbed his hand and kissed him.

It was sudden, impulsive, her laughter still on her lips when she kissed him again.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured against her mouth.

She grinned. “Then why are you still here?”

Because I always am, he thought, but he only kissed her in response.

Summer turned to autumn, and as the leaves fell, so did the last of his resolve. He had to tell her. He owed her that much.

They sat by the fire in her family’s home, the warmth doing nothing for the chill in his bones. Y/N watched him, something unreadable in her gaze, as if she already knew.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he began. His hands clenched into fists. “Something about what I am.”

Y/N tilted her head. “You say that like you’re about to confess to murder.”

His silence stretched too long.

She blinked. “Lee?”

“I’m not human.” The words felt heavy, final. “I haven’t been for a long time.”

She studied him, quiet for a moment, before crossing her arms. “You’re not about to tell me you’re some kind of… what do they call them—creature of the night, are you?”

He let out a breath. “Something like that.”

To his utter shock, she only smirked. “You’re not going to start lurking in dark corners and calling me ‘mortal one,’ are you?”

He stared. “What?”

“I mean, if you start hissing at garlic, I might reconsider our whole relationship.”

Despite himself, he laughed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me.”

“Yes,” he said, softer this time. “I do.”

She reached for his hand, squeezing it. “Good. Because I know who you are now. And I don’t care.”

They spent that autumn wrapped in each other, in whispered words and secret smiles. She asked him endless questions—what it was like to live forever, if he had met kings, if he missed the taste of food.

“I don’t remember the taste,” he admitted one night, tracing patterns on her bare shoulder.

“That’s tragic,” she murmured. “I’d die if I couldn’t have honey cakes.”

He chuckled. “You say that as if you haven’t eaten five today.”

She gasped, shoving him playfully. “How dare you keep count?”

“I can’t help it. You get this look—like a fox that just stole from the henhouse.”

She laughed, burying her face against his chest. “Maybe in my next life, I’ll be a baker.”

He smiled, but the words sat heavy in his heart. There would always be a next life. And she would always leave him behind.

The winter was cruel.

She fell ill not long after the first snowfall. It started with a cough, then a fever that wouldn’t break. Lee tried everything; stole medicine, bribed healers, prayed to gods he didn’t believe in. Nothing worked.

He held her through the fevered nights, whispering stories she had loved, pressing cool clothes to her burning skin. He stayed when her strength faded, when her voice turned to a whisper.

One morning, just before dawn, she stirred. Her fingers curled weakly around his, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Lee?”

“I’m here.”

Her lips parted in the faintest of smiles. Her eyes softened, full of something deep, something knowing. “You’ll find me again,” she murmured.

Tears burned his eyes. He kissed her hand, pressing it to his cheek. “Always.”

And with a final, shuddering breath, she was gone.

Lee sat in silence, holding her long after her body turned cold.

The cycle would begin again. It always did.

And when it did, he would find her.

Because he always did.

It was the 1800s and in this life, she was a noblewoman.

Y/N.

Distant. Unreachable. A vision draped in silks and adorned with jewels, moving through candlelit halls as though she belonged to another world entirely. But Lee had seen her in every world, in every life. And even if she did not remember him, he knew her. He always did.

She was wed to another. A man of power, of wealth, of status. Someone safe. Someone human. Lee had seen him once, standing beside Y/N at a lavish banquet, fingers pressed possessively against the small of her back. It should have been him. It had always been him. But in this life, she did not belong to him.

So he watched from afar.

For months, he lingered in the shadows of her world, a ghost haunting the edges of candlelight. He caught glimpses of her in the garden at dusk, her face turned toward the dying sun. He listened to the sound of her laughter carried on the wind, a cruel reminder of all he had lost before. He kept his distance, even when the ache in his chest became unbearable.

And then he saw the bruises.

Dark, blooming things hidden beneath the high collar of her gown. The way she flinched when her husband reached for her at the next banquet. The hollow look in her eyes that had never been there before.

Lee had always told himself he would never interfere. That she deserved to live these lives as they came, untouched by the monster that lurked in the dark.

But this time, he couldn’t stay away.

He followed the man through the winding streets of the city, footsteps silent on the cobblestone. The nobleman was drunk, swaying as he staggered down a deserted alley, humming a tune that grated on Lee’s nerves. He reeked of wine, of expensive perfume, of cruelty. The kind of man who took pleasure in his power. The kind of man who believed himself untouchable.

Lee stepped out of the shadows.

"Who’s there?" the nobleman slurred, squinting into the darkness.

Lee didn’t speak. He let the silence stretch, watching as unease flickered across the man’s face. Then he moved.

It was over in seconds. A hand around the nobleman's throat, squeezing just hard enough to feel his pulse thrumming beneath his fingers. The man barely had time to gasp before Lee struck, fangs piercing flesh, warm blood spilling over his tongue. It had been so long since he had fed. He had denied himself for so long.

But this kill was not for hunger.

It was for her.

When the man finally went limp, Lee let his body crumple to the ground, blood staining the stone beneath them. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but the coppery taste lingered. The taste of vengeance. Of justice.

Then he looked up—and saw her.

Y/N stood at the mouth of the alley, candlelight from the street casting a golden halo around her. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes locked on the lifeless body at Lee’s feet. Then, slowly, she met his gaze.

"You killed him," she murmured.

Lee swallowed, his throat thick with something he couldn’t name. "He hurt you."

She stepped closer, unafraid. "You’re dangerous."

"I am."

She should have run. She should have screamed for the guards. Instead, she looked down at the man who had tormented her for months, the man she had been forced to smile for, to obey, to endure. And then she exhaled a long, shuddering breath, as if some unseen weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

When she looked back at Lee, her eyes were softer. "But you’ve saved me more times than I can count."

Weeks passed, and the rumors of her husband's mysterious disappearance faded into whispers. Y/N remained in the estate, and Lee remained in the shadows, always near, never too far. But this time, he did not watch from a distance.

One evening, beneath a sky heavy with rain, she found him waiting on the balcony of her chambers. The city stretched below them, lanterns flickering against the darkness. The air smelled of wet stone, of lavender, of her.

She stepped closer, the silk of her nightgown whispering against the cool night air. "You always find me."

"Always."

She reached for him then, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw, as if memorizing him for the first time. And then, slowly, deliberately, she kissed him.

It was not rushed, not desperate like their first kisses in other lives. It was steady, filled with understanding. As if she had known him for years rather than weeks. As if, deep down, she had always known.

Lee stayed with her.

As the years passed, he remained by her side, a silent guardian in a world that did not know what he was. He held her at night, pressing kisses to her skin as she murmured dreams of other lives. He traced the lines of her face, memorizing every expression, knowing one day, he would lose her again.

And when time finally caught up to her, when the silver in her hair outnumbered the gold, he never left.

He sat at her bedside when she grew frail, holding her hand, whispering stories from their past. Some she remembered. Some she did not. But she listened all the same, her fingers curled around his, as if afraid to let go.

One night, as the fire burned low in the hearth, she turned to him, eyes heavy with sleep. "Will you find me again?"

Lee pressed his lips to her knuckles, breathing in the last traces of her warmth. "Always."

And when she passed, he kissed her brow one final time before slipping away into the night, the cycle beginning once more.

It was now the 21st century and Lee hadn’t meant to talk to her. He had spent months ensuring that their paths never truly crossed, keeping his distance like he always did.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

It was late, the city washed in a misty drizzle, the glow of neon signs reflecting off the wet pavement. He had been trailing her like always, keeping a careful distance.

Then, without warning, she turned around.

Lee barely had time to react before she was standing before him, eyes bright with something unreadable.

“Hello, Lee.”

His breath caught.

No.

She couldn’t have just—

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

The world tilted.

It took everything in him to stay still, to keep his expression unreadable even as his mind reeled. His name. She had said his name.

She remembered.

For centuries, it had been the other way around—him searching, him finding, him remembering while she moved through life unaware of their past.

But now…

Now, she was the one who had been looking for him.

Lee’s pulse pounded in his ears, though he knew it was just a phantom sensation, a habit leftover from when he had been human.

He forced himself to meet her gaze, searching for some sign that he had misheard. That this was just some cruel coincidence.

But her expression held no doubt. No hesitation. Only quiet certainty.

She knew him.

Truly knew him.

“Say something,” she teased, tilting her head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He let out a shaky breath, barely managing a smirk. “Funny. That’s usually my line.”

Her lips quivered in amusement, but her eyes remained steady, waiting.

“How?” Lee finally asked, voice hoarse. “How do you remember?”

She hummed, crossing her arms. “Not all at once. It started as dreams—flashes of things that didn’t belong to this life. You were always there, though.” She smiled softly, like she had finally solved a puzzle that had been plaguing her for years. “Your face was the clearest thing.”

He couldn’t breathe.

For so long, he had carried their past alone. Shouldered the weight of lifetimes of love and loss, knowing she would never share the burden.

But now…

Now, she was standing in front of him, looking at him like she had been waiting for him just as desperately as he had been waiting for her.

“You were watching me,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Every night. Weren’t you?”

Lee stiffened.

Caught.

He should lie. Should tell her she was mistaken. But what was the point? She already knew.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I was.”

She didn’t look surprised.

“Why?”

Lee swallowed, debating how much of the truth he was willing to give her.

Because I couldn’t help myself. Because I’ve lost you too many times. Because I swore I wouldn’t get close, and yet I can’t seem to let you go.

Instead, he settled for, “Old habits die hard.”

Her gaze softened, seeing right through him.

Lee hated how easily she had always been able to do that.

“Will you keep running?” she asked.

The question settled between them, heavy and unspoken for far too long.

Lee had run for centuries—run from getting too close, from the pain of losing her, from the cruel hand of fate that always wrenched them apart.

But this time was different.

This time, she remembered.

And she had been the one searching for him.

He exhaled slowly. “I don’t know.”

Y/N reached out then, her fingers curling around his in a way that felt so natural, so achingly familiar, that it nearly unraveled him.

“Then let me find you,” she said, her grip steady. “For once, let me be the one who stays.”

Lee looked down at their joined hands, at the warmth seeping into his skin.

For the first time in lifetimes, she wasn’t slipping away.

And for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to let go.

Promise pt. 3

PAUL ATREIDES X READER

You were to remain on Arrakis to aid in destroying the Atreides family: a Bene Gesserit trained assassin working for the Harkonnen House. It shouldn't have been hard to kill The Duke Leto's son with your Crysknife, however, love can be messier than blood.

You were unsure when it hit you as to what Paul was truly trying to accomplish. Was it when you were ready to draw your blade or when he looked you dead in the eyes with that godforsaken beautiful expression on his face? It was just unfair how he was able to halt your motions by looking at you; his grey-blue pupils looking brighter than the Arrakian sun as the moons shone down from above. It would've been an easy kill, really. But something told you that your plan wasn't going to work out.

In hesitation, you removed your hand from the hilt of your knife and allowed yourself to be lost in his gaze. Suddenly, he placed his lips on yours. You had heard of kissing before, but only in the books on the old worlds that the Harkonnens had within their library. Never thinking to experience it, you hadn't prepared yourself to combat it. In a way, it was more difficult than going over battle strategies or studying the history of The Imperium.

But to your surprise....you enjoyed kissing Paul.

He slowly moved himself away from you, looking into your eyes to try and get a glimpse of an emotion from you; any emotion at all would suffice. He felt warm as he enveloped himself into the embrace that was your kiss; thinking over and over his actions and pondering the potential consequences of them. Your eyes glimmered with something that he was unable to make out in the dark but he knew it was a ferocity equivalent to anger. But then, everything changed. Your face had softened and your eyes grew slightly wet. To say he was astonished by the fact that you could have any other emotion than coldness was an understatement. But he did know that he wanted to capture that look into his memory for as long as he lived.

And then- the impossible happened. You smiled.

"Paul..." Before you could get another word out, his lips were upon yours again, this time more feverishly. Your fingers intertwined in his hair as you forgot completely about the mission you were forced to pursue. The only thing your mind was capable of thinking was the boy in front of you.

Pulling away once more, he rested his head to yours. There was a softness that had entered the room now that all formalities had come to an end; the sound of heavy breathing was the only thing to be heard as you allowed the gap between the two of you to proceed once more.

"I've thought about doing that for a while now. I didn't think I would ever be granted the chance." He smiled.

"Paul." You said.

"Hm?"

"You just made my job a lot easier."

Suddenly a large boom could be heard from the outside. Before he had time to ask you what you meant, a brilliant orange light filled the window above and covered the dark night littered with stars. Something was burning.

He jumped up from where he was laying and immediately ran to the hallway, in hopes of glancing at some of the guards who would tell him what was going on. For the second time that night Paul was astonished. There were no guards anywhere in the vicinity. In fact, everything seemed dead besides from the war that raged outside.

You exited the room right after Paul. Heading for the stairs, you ran to make your way outside. This was it. Vladimir must've finally engaged in his plans. The coolness of the slab floor beneath your feet and the crisp air of the hallway was oddly enough like a slap in the face; a universal gesture saying, "This is it. Run for it."

Taking in harsh breaths as he watched your descent, Paul pushed back his hair and beelined towards his room. Throwing open the door in his haste, he quickly threw on a pair of training clothes and started to search for his shield. Once he found it, he would be able to slip it on and use it to withhold enemy attacks. Hopefully, they weren't familiar with technology from Caladan, whomever these attackers were. He quickly remembered the Hunter-Seeker from earlier. That wasn't a typical gadget known to Arrakis. Yet they had known.

Throwing a cape over his shoulders, he made his way to the commotion.

⌛⌛⌛

Jessica threw water over her still features as she glanced at herself in the mirror. There was something odd about the way her face had taken shape over the past couple of days, and she wondered if it could be sinking in due to her stress from the move. Arrakis wasn't her ideal home, but she was learning to make do with what she had considering she didn't have a choice in the matter. If Paul was really proven to be the Muad'Dib, then he wouldn't have been able to fulfill his prophecy on Caladan. Not that that was her reason for moving, but it was definitely an image that plagued her mind. Her son, all grown up. Constantly living in danger.

It was every parent's dream.

Sighing to herself, she fixed the straps on her nightgown and opened the door to her shared bedroom with the Duke Leto. The room itself was a dark brass color with ancient inscriptions on the walls and ceilings and an abundance of space. It was intimate with the way the room was dimly lit with candles; something again that she didn't see a lot of on Caladan. Her home used to be dark and gothic, with a clear view of grey skies and rain through every window. It was beautiful and perfect. And now she was stuck in a summery wasteland.

Sighing to herself, she slipped into the silky sheets that adorned the top of her mattress. The Duke's side of the bed was cold, as usual, meaning that there was something keeping him in the office; he would probably just sleep among the books again if given the change. The truth was, Jessica didn't like being alone, no. It was a type of loneliness that festered within the very being of her soul when it came to the nights she would find herself with only her thoughts to keep her company. Bene Gesserit, Muad'Dib, the Crysknife. Anything and everything that would pull on her heartstrings until awaking the next morning became a feat in itself.

And that mischievous son of hers. There was no way that he was staying out of trouble, not with you around. Jessica saw every glance in your direction that you didn't; Paul had quickly become infatuated with you. Whether it was because of the close proximity in age or if it was the brief conversations beforehand, she was surprised that her son had taken interest in a servant girl. No matter, he would eventually come to his senses.

One thing was for certain though. Jessica did not like you.

She tried to place her finger on exactly what it might be, but she just couldn't figure out why she found you so detestable. It had nothing to do with her son's intentions and everything to do with your demeanor. You were strong and held a face of power that all the servants she had met in her life didn't have. Almost like...almost like a Bene Gesserit.

As Jessica threw back her covers in realization, the house shook with the first blast of the enemy attack.

⌛⌛⌛

"Ataraxia!" Paul huffed after you once he caught a glimpse of your frame on the desert sands below. Cloak whipping around you, you held something close to your chest as you ran across the cool sands and towards the ships that started to invade the sky. With the fire burning behind you and the blaring of the bombs above, it was truly a sight to be seen as chunks of sand and ship debris flew around the night sky. The stars twinkling overhead managed to look so innocent compared to the rest of the setting; Paul being similar. The innocence that filled his eyes upon catching your gaze once you turned around at the sound of your name. His hair flying about and his nervous stance added to his confusion as you started to walk towards him.

"I promised to take your head. But if you wish to go with me entirely, I can't complain. My uncle desires your death more than the Fremens desire that cursed spice." You tried to voice your words with anger; getting closer and closer to the boy who had it coming from the start. It wasn't fair for him to do this to you, not now that you were so far into the game already. This kiss had really set you off and now you didn't know what to make of yourself. It wasn't fair. What compelled you to act like this?

Paul reached for the shield in his pocket and then- it hit him. Why you acted the way you did. What drew him in. You were never an ally to him or his family. The name Harkonnen filled his mind like a violent poison, reaching every crevice of his soul and leaving a dark empty void within him. It polluted the very veins within him, ripping out his heart and leaving a vile taste in his mouth. You were a traitor.

"O-oh." Was all he managed to say as he placed his hand on his chest in hopes to still his breathing. A dark and solemn look suddenly appearing on his face; he composed himself and gathered every ounce of strength within him as he prepared for a fight, remembering back to everything that Hawat had taught him. Turning on his shield, he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to change the image in his mind of you to become the enemy and not a lover, but to no avail. He couldn't hate you even if he tried to.

"Seriously, how dense do you have to be?" You said, expecting to be reveling off the fact that he had fallen directly into your trap. Yet something in you felt off. Paul was hurt and for some reason, it hurt you too.

"Ataraxia -"

"It's (Y/N)." You corrected him, now finally being able to give away your true name instead of going undercover with that stupid alias your uncle had made. "(Y/N) Harkonnen." Another blast of light was seen in the sky with a loud boom that followed. A piece of one of the Harkonnen ships flew overhead and landed about forty feet behind Paul, giving you the distraction you needed to attack. Without giving it too much thought, you ran forward and made a quick motion with your knife to try and slit Paul's throat. He must've anticipated this, for in a second his hands gripped both your wrists to try and hold you down. With surprise, you knee him in the stomach and drop down to grab your knife, placing it up to his throat once more. The shield around him started to burn with the color red as you held the knife in close contact, trying to break the device with the longer you held it there.

"Atara-(Y/N)! You don't have to do this!" Paul managed to get out between huffs. He used his previous training to break out of your grasp and to pin your arms behind your back, both of you falling to the sand. He holds you in place as you squirm in his grip, staring at him from above.

"You know, I might've actually enjoyed this under different circumstances." You kicked him in the face and waited for his natural retaliation before jumping up and pushing him back down, kicking him in the face and spraying blood from his nose onto the brown earth below. He had a gash along the underside of his chin and most definitely a broken nose. However; you hated to admit that he was still beautiful, even all bashed up and bruised.

"Oh fuck off." He spat and swerved out of the way before you could kick him again.

Just then the ground started to shake but in a way that was both familiar....and alarming. Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach as your brain put two and two together, knowing that the imminent threat of danger was Paul no longer. It was the Shai Hulud that buried itself deep within the sands.

⌛⌛⌛

(AN: Part four coming soon! Thank you all for being so patient with the third installment! 💛🦐)

Tags: @die-collective @xoxoloverb @totallynotkaibiased

Thank you all for being so patient! I have had a serious writing block, but I ensure you that Promise part three is coming sometime next week!

💛🦐

Promise pt.2

PAUL ATREIDES X READER

You were to remain on Arrakis to aid in destroying the Atreides family: a Bene Gesserit trained assassin working for the Harkonnen House. It shouldn't have been hard to kill The Duke Leto's son with your Crysknife, however, love can be messier than blood.

The summery orange sky cast long shadows against the wooden floor, the sun illuminating the sands and everything within the castle as it set across the Arrakis sky. It was warm and comforting, but a reminder of the scorching heat of the outside. Looking out to the distance from the corridor window, one could see the crevices left by the sandworms in their wake; the earth caving in where they had dug through.

Walking Paul through what was once the Harkonnen House, you noticed things about the place that you hadn't before now that you had time to walk around for yourself. For instance, the way the stained glass windows of the downstairs cathedral style rooms created patterns against the ceilings and made everything a rainbow color. Or the way your shoes made noises against the freshly polished wood of certain areas within the home whereas they didn't on the smooth stone. There was a slight breeze that filled the hallways and flew strands of Paul's hair out of his eyes and all around his face. His eyes were a piercing grey-blue with an intensity in them today that you haven't seen in a while. His chiseled features were set in a frown as he glanced about the hallway, looking in any direction other than the one you were in. It was irritating.

"Something on your mind, sir?" You asked the tall boy next to you, awaiting a response.

"I thought I mentioned that we could drop the formalities between us?" He said in a short and curt tone. What was with him today? What had put him in such an agitated mood since leaving the dining hall?

"Forgive me Paul." You said obviously starting to get firey with every word that managed to escape your lips. Why is he being such a..... What did he call it the other day again? Bitchass?

He let out a puff of air and the expression on his face calmed a little. "I apologize for the abruptness, I just came back from an interesting conversation with my father."

His father! You hadn't caught a glimpse of him since the Atreides family had moved in. Always busying himself with the plans to harvest the spice and to keep the Fremens at bay, he was almost invisible.

It was getting harder and harder to accomplish your mission.

"Your father..?" You asked, leaving the conversation open for him to add his own input. If he could give any clues as to where he was or something in regards to strategies the Duke Leto shared with him in private, you might just be able to carry through with the attack before anyone got suspicious.

He pushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes and stopped dead center of the hallway, giving you a clear notion that he wanted you to pause your tour. His fingers twitched at his side and his anxiousness was evident, even through the facade he put on in front of you. You wondered why he would be carefree and heartfelt one moment and then tense and stoic the next. Was he struggling with his duty of becoming heir to the throne? Had his father mentioned something so troubling that things had gone haywire?

"I found a Hunter-Seeker today. It was in my room this morning."

The air around you suddenly felt cold. The comfort of the sunlight was no longer within the corridor as a chill ran down your spine. That wasn't a part of the plan.

"A-a Hunter-Seeker? Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure since I was almost killed." He said with a matter-of-fact tone. So this is what was stressing him.

"Did you contact anyone outside of your intermediate family? Did you talk to the guards? What did Hawat have to say about the ordeal? Is your mother-"

"Ataraxia." He held you down in place sensing your worry. Something about the way he held his palms against your shoulders calmed you down. It was a comforting touch but it could also be deadly if anyone is to see the two of you like this. You are, after all, just supposed to be a servant.

He paused a moment before you looked up at him with fury in your eyes. This isn't how things were supposed to go. You weren't told of there being another assassination attempt for the Atreides family since this was supposed to be your reconciliation with the Harkonnens. This was your ultimate approval of trust.

Maybe you were taking too long.

"Ataraxia? Why do you look angrier than me? I was the one who almost died." He pondered aloud.

Your hand went to caress the hilt of your Crysknife within your pocket to calm yourself. You were letting too much information slip through the cracks by allowing yourself to be upset over this. Paul was right.

"Forgive me. I lost my sense of place."

"It's quite alright. There's no harm in delving into one's own thoughts." He smiled with a pained expression and made a movement to carry on towards the end of the hall. You followed suit.

⏳⏳⏳

You pushed your face down into your pillow that night with an angry scowl and a menacing gaze. This was uncalled for. There was no one within the Harkonnen House that would be fit enough for your position; how could your uncle exile you to your home planet and force you to do his bidding without keeping promise of his reward? It made no sense as you were favored over Feyd-Rautha.

You turn over and stare at the ceiling above you. The maids quarters didn't have the skylight that your old room did; a place where you often found solace. It was impossible trying to sleep in the dingy and unkept room that you were expected to and instead you decided that you were angry enough to break the rules and be less cautious.

You were going to sneak back to your old room tonight.

The Atreides family hadn't used it yet to your knowledge. They had busied themselves with the other floors, being quick to set up offices and bedrooms and not having the time for much else. Hawat chose his own room and his training room on the far side of the House which left the upstairs basically uncharted. You would have to be quick throughout the halls as to not be seen, but once you had made it to the skylight room atop the roof, you would be fine for the night.

Slipping past the other sleeping maids, you made your way to the hall and slipped out the door. The night sky shone in through the many windows of the ancient building; the Arrakian moons almost as luminous as the sun. This moonlight allowed you to see as you slipped through the shadows and made your way to the staircase across from the Dining Hall. Being cautious of each step, you silently compiled yourself and your anxieties with sneaking out as you found the room with the only silver handle in the house. It had to be pushed inwards, not turned. You took a deep breath and allowed yourself to enter.

The skylight was the same as you remembered and as you'd figured, there was not a box in sight. The glass dome showed the stars and the moons of your beloved planet and the galaxies far beyond which were sure to be home to many other living creatures out there. You wondered what the extraterrestrials would be like and you shivered at the thought. Slimy and green you muttered to yourself and you laid on the floor, tilting your vision up to the sky.

"Slimy and green?"

You jolted backwards upon hearing another voice within the room. Twisting your body at a weird angle, you instinctively grab at the knife in it's holster and prepare yourself for a battle.

His brown hair was all curled in awkward places; a difference than it's usual contempt state. His lounge wear hugged his body in ways that were meant to provide utmost comfort, but it was clear that the set was too big for him. His eyes shone through the dark with their familiar friendly yet motivated gaze.

"Paul," you said, lowering your guard, "you scared me."

"My apologies, I promise you that it wasn't my intention." He smiled and positioned himself to lay next to you.

"What brings you up here? I figured everyone would be asleep." You asked. It was slightly annoying having to see him everywhere and never having any time to yourself. You always had to put up a front so that you would be able to carry out your duty in the end. It gets exhausting after a while.

"Should I be asking you the same thing?" He grins again and for a split second you could've sworn that he had made a suggestive look downwards. Just as quickly as his gaze was on you, it was back to the stars ahead and his eyes shone with the luminosity of it all.

"Right. I just- found this place the other day. Thought it would look cooler if I went to see it when the sun wasn't up." You lied straight to his face for what seemed like the millionth time that day. How many more lies would you have to tell?

"I come up here occasionally to watch the stars." He said, patting the space next to him to motion you towards the spot you were originally sitting in.

You calmed down and lowered yourself towards the ground next to the boy you were meant to kill. It felt odd knowing that you were playing a nice conversation with someone who would be bloody by your hands within the next couple of days if you played your cards right. You thought about carrying his beautiful head severed from his petite frame to Vladimir and receiving your reward for pleasing him. You thought about the way he would look next to both Jessica and Leto in the horrible graves of the bodies your uncle dumped when he was done profiting off of their murders. You thought about the smell of his ashes as he burned within the ground and joined the night sky that he looked at now.

And Paul thought of you. He'd hate to admit it, but you had taken over his mind lately. Fierce and opinionated, you were a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't met anyone his age nearly as interesting as they had all been too busy with that cursed Bene-Gesserit crap that he'd been forced to learn at such a young age. You were different.

And while you thought of his blood he thought of your lips. The way they would taste against his own and if you'd even like that. He thought of the way you outshone the stars and your intelligence of the cruelties of the world. Two kids forced to grow up too fast. He felt his chest make crazy palpitations; only something that happened when he was around the erratic Ataraxia. The mysterious girl who shrouded herself in the only darkness this planet had to offer. For once, Paul was thankful they had left Caladan.

You looked so beautiful with your hair sprawled out around you and your face tilted towards the glass above. The light brought out the angles of your face so that Paul could see you in a different way; he was used to seeing your skin kissed with the orange glow of the sun and now he could see the same you but with the silver of the moon. Paul wondered if the Fremen's spice dreams were of things just as beautiful.

The timing was almost so perfect you could feel it on your tongue. One hand on your knife, your mind ran crazy with the thoughts of finally being able to kill him. With a quick stab under the ribcage, he would be gone in moments. It would be too difficult of a wound to heal medically, and while he was gasping for air you could slit his throat. He was leaning into you and you were leaning into him. Two strikes would be all it took.

The timing was almost so perfect Paul could feel it on his tongue. One hand inching closer to yours, his mind ran crazy with the thoughts of finally being able to kiss you after thinking about it for so long. With a quick shift to his side, he could execute it fast and meaningfully as he hoped you would feel the same passion as him. It would be difficult to convince his parents to let you be with him and he knew he could be facing a lifetime of troubles if he really decided to be with you. There was just something so alluring about it that he couldn't help himself. You were leaning into him and he was leaning into you. One kiss would be all it took for him to know the truth. Was he in love?

One of you with the intent to kill and the other with the intent to love. Either way, it was a dance with death and the game the two of you were playing was dangerous.

Who's heart was going to break first?

⏳⏳⏳

(AN: Part Three coming soon!!! This was a short chapter, but I've been busy with a lot of things and haven't had as much time to write. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for the second part!! Thank you for reading 💛🦐)

Tags: @die-collective

DUNE

Paul Atreides:

Promise: (Part One) You've made a promise to the Harkonnens to end the Atreides bloodline once and for all, working on the inside to take them down. It really sucks that your sworn enemy is hot.

Promise: (Part Two)

(Romance/Slight Angst/Enemies to Lovers)

Promise: (Part Three)

(Romance/Slight Angst/ Enemies to Lovers)

Promise

PAUL ATREIDES X READER

You were to remain on Arrakis to aid in destroying the Atreides family: a Bene Gesserit trained assassin working for the Harkonnen House. It shouldn't have been hard to kill The Duke Leto's son with your Crysknife, however, love can be messier than blood.

The Bene Gesserit way had always been to look out for your loved ones, but stay behind the scenes. It has always been to fulfill the duty assigned to you since birth; to continue a lineage but never to create your own legacy. It was a way of life and it was collapsible. Not only did it bring down those that followed, but it also destroyed the lives of many. The closest to its creation would be that of religion, something that died years before the Great Houses were moved from the Earth and to the galaxy.

This was the life you were forced to conform to.

Day in and day out, you were taught the Bene Gesserit age since birth; your family hoping to continue their lineage and create a legacy that would rule the galaxy once the Padishah Emperor was removed from the Imperial House. Which, of course, was what your House had been planning on since the beginning of everything. The world was supposed to burn and everyone was to go with it. The downfall of humanity.

You belonged to the House Harkonnen.

Leaving your prized planet of Arrakis- home to you since the year 10174. Going into 10191, your Uncle, The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, had planned to wipe out the cursed Atreides family by sending them to Arrakis with the false promise of the Spice Harvest. It was a trap to convince them of a growing economy, which would lead to their deaths as they figured a spy was among them. Dr. Yueh, their prized professor was working behind the scenes and helping your family to kill The Duke Leto Atreides.

And thus, your Bene Gesserit training had come to an end and a new one began. You were to stay on Arrakis and continue the ploy under the alias "Ataraxia." You were to kill Paul in his sleep the same night Dr. Yueh betrayed his best friend's trust. It shouldn't be an issue considering your training, and you were to use one of the fabled Crysknifes known to reside on your home planet. They were made with the tooth of the mighty sandworm and needed human flesh. It had to be close to the holder's side for the duration of its use or it would disintegrate into the very sands that swept the grounds. It was a highly valuable object; the holder could not leave the planet alive with one of these. One stab to the sternum would be all it took to deal a deathly blow and end the Atreides bloodline once and for all.

The Harkonnens were nasty and prided themselves on war. You would do anything to keep the pride your Uncle had in you and to keep your beloved planet, the only place you truly found solace.

And it would've been so easy.

But Paul Atreides was nothing short of beautiful.

Tall, slender, and an angular face that of which would make many look as though they're dying, but on him it made him look like the most beautiful chiseled statues. His long and soft dark hair that glistened in the morning sun of Arrakis that anyone would be jealous of and his beautiful blue grey eyes that struck fear into the hearts of many. Always a proper aura and his drive to study the laws of the land radiated that of Bene Gesserit training. You weren't sure if it was his intelligence, his looks, or the fact that he was the known enemy that captivated you first. But what you did know was that his softness was that unlike any other.

Your first meeting day had been when their household objects had moved into your familiar but drab home. They made it seem royal and warm at the same time, a contrast of the particularly cold and clean feel that the Harkonnens left on the place. You noticed the Duke Leto painted into an ornate frame above the mantel piece dressed as a matador. Across from it above the fireplace on the opposite wall was the head of the bull, frozen in time with the blood of the Duke's father upon its horns.

Your hand grazed the edges of the table that filled this room. The Harkonnens had used it for seating and the Atreides family used it as dining. The table was mahogany and must've been hand carved due to the intricate patters that looked like whittling. You pondered the thought of some servant who specialized in fine arts sitting at this seat and working the edges of the table into a flower.

Next, you noticed that the halls were empty. Your Uncle used as many servants as he needed and they all ran around the dark and dreary hallways looking for orders to take and messages to deliver. Before you had your heart set on helping your Uncle, you had continued your Bene Gesserit training under one of the servant women. But what was her name? You tried to recall, but noticed you had been joined by someone within the house.

"Ataraxia." He said.

Turning around, you came face to face with the most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes upon. Actually, his eyes were what you saw first; boring into your soul with those piercing icy pupils of his. His entire demeanor was that of wealth, he stood tall and stoic and had an aura of elegance. You expected him to be of royal relation to the family Atreides, but what you weren't expecting was his kindness.

"Sorry for startling you." he said, softly smiling and moving his gaze to the wooden surface below your fingertips. Something about him seemed off, however, like there was something missing that he was refusing to show you. It was cold and dark but it was hidden away in the crevices of his mind.

"You're forgiven." You stated, raising your chin to meet his gaze once more, remembering your training.

"Ah, another Bene Gesserit." He stated, running his fingers through his hair. At first, you wanted to laugh. After such a royal introduction he decided to do something so boyish!

You suppressed your giggles as you fully grasped his assumption. He was intelligent.

His intellect drew you closer to where he was standing. "How'd you figure?"

He turned away from you and walked to the fireplace that was adorned with the gold flaking your Uncle had specially imported from Castle Caladan. The home planet of Atreides. The mystery man stopped with his hands behind his back (beautiful hands, you might add) and his hair falling at his shoulders.

"No one stands with such excruciatingly painful posture on their own accord."

Now you did laugh. The man was startled at first, but he then smiled with that same expression he had once he'd entered the room.

"Now it is my turn to apologize for startling you," you said, containing yourself once more. What power did he have over you that made you feel so easy. Did he posses The Voice?

"You're forgiven." He mimicked your response.

"I thought the Bene Gesserit were women?" You asked, motioning for him to continue, "At least that is what the Reverend Mother claims."

"The Reverend Mother is a bitchass." He said.

You froze. Did he...did he just insult her Majesty Gaius Helen Mohaim? With such vulgar language?

"I- forgive me... What defines a bitchass?" You asked.

He looked frightened after his last comment until you asked him a question pertaining to his language. Instantly calm once again now that he knows he needn't be so proper around you, he drops his guard. "It's a combination of curse words." He laughs and it's like music filled your eardrums. "I'm not entirely sure of the meaning, I read it in a book on old worlds."

After the both of you laugh, you decide to ask him.

"You know my name, of course. But might I know yours?"

He stops laughing and looks at you with a quizzical expression. "You don't recognize me?" He asks.

You instantly felt your cheeks get hot. He was pleasant and intelligent, and here you were standing like a blubbering idiot.

"I'm afraid I don't, sir."

He smiles at you once again. "I believe we are the same age, no need to keep the formalities. Please, refer to me as Paul."

He was kind and beautiful and smart.

And he was the boy you had to kill.

That was your first meeting with the young royal Paul Atreides and since then you couldn't get your mind off of his angelic features and determined gaze. There was something about him that was more captivating than the Spice itself; something that tempted you to get closer to him in ways you couldn't understand. But you wouldn't fail your Uncle, no. You had a mission as a Bene Gesserit and a Harkonnen. You were going to stab him with your Crysknife and end the bloodline. Once and for all.

⏳⏳⏳

You awoke in your cold bedroom on the day that would mark your second month living with the Atreides family. Continuing under the alias, you were rising up quickly above the other servants, no doubt about that. However, you were careful with your movements. If Paul was able to gather information off you so easily it would ruin everything. And not to mention his conniving mother, Jessica. She was always giving you the side eye as though she knew there was something off about you.

Glancing around the room, you see the blank and dry walls of the server's quarters. Your previous bedroom was taken by Paul himself; you now learning how to reside in a place less familiar. Nevertheless, you made it work. Hoisting on your dark pants and plain top you made your way to the common area where the Atreides family was to be having breakfast.

"Ataraxia!" A gust of wind blew past as Paul made his way towards you in the hallway. Walking with fast strides, you slow down to allow him to catch up. Why was he taking such an interest in conversing with you? Instinctively, your hand goes to your side to feel for the comforting coolness of the Crysknife.

"Sir." You said, now giving him your full attention. He was wearing the same uniform dark pants and a dust grey colored long sleeve adorned with the Atreides crest; a red hawk emblem. Even with the dull colors he still managed to show his beauty.

"I thought I requested to drop the formalities?" He smiled and you felt your face go hot. Right, of course.

"My apologies Si- uh Paul." You managed to get out, removing your hand from your side.

He looked towards your hands and then back to your face with a quizzical expression. He was about to open his mouth and ask what it was you were hiding, but instead he smiled and took your caution as just being startled. He might've been going against his instinct, but there was something about you that put him at ease.

Little did he know you were his own personal femme fatale.

"Nothing to worry over." He said and the two of you continued your procession to the downstairs. The rest of the walk was silent except for the occasional passerby. Paul said nothing else so neither did you.

⏳⏳⏳

The room was lit with the orange sky from the outside, the sun shining down on the window panes and creating a yellowish glow on the elegant dining room you had first met Paul in. The wooden arches gave the entirety of the room an elegant feel, they contrasted against the bare walls in a way that felt both comforting and regal. This had always been one of your favorite rooms in the house, as it had been the brightest.

Paul made his way over to one of the spots at the table, fixing the hem of his shirt and pushing his hair away from his eyes. You caught a glimpse of the ring on his left hand, an Atreides crest present there as well. Even though he was just wearing simple house clothes, he looked elegant as ever.

You made your way to the other end of the room, standing against the wall to take any orders Lady Jessica or Duke Leto had asked of you. It was a servant's duty, after all. It was odd to be on the other side of the spectrum since you were usually the one to be waited on.

"Ataraxia." You heard your alias coming from the mouth of Paul's mother, Lady Jessica. Your feet were taking you in her direction before your mind had time to wonder what it was she was about to ask of you. Stopping just a few feet from her chair, you waited for her to speak.

"I'm aware you have a knowledge of this place that surpasses the knowledge of the other servants?" She asked you with dark eyes. She knew you had been a servant in the Harkonnen House since before they moved, but to her knowledge that's where all your information of the place came from. There was no way she could've figured out that a servant isn't actually what you were?

You looked at her to see if there was any sign of knowing, but there was none. She seemed genuinely disinterested in your background.

"Yes, that is correct ma'am." You replied.

"I expect you to show Paul around the place, as we are still new and he has a break from his studies this afternoon." She said, going back to scooping up her breakfast with her fork. Elegant. Poised. Royal.

It made you sick.

"Of course."

Slinking away back to your original position against the wall, you smiled to yourself.

You and Paul would be alone, you could finally make your first strike.

Little did you realize, your smile didn't go unnoticed.

⏳⏳⏳

( AN: Part Two coming soon!! Thank you to everyone who reads my fics! It means the world to me! 💛🦐)