smash.

-----

You could hardly hold back a grin, biting down on your uplifted lips and hands gripping the edges of your shirt. Headphones plugged inside of your ears streamlined a particular song in your head, and you couldn't help the happiness bubbling inside.

It was an addicting song and you had plans to meet with some family you've missed, making this a good bus ride.

Not to mention, when you got off and headed towards your usual lunch joint, you typically passed a very… nice guy. His face made you want to melt into a puddle, you'll admit but that's because you think it's a general consensus, you think if you asked anybody else they would also say it.

Though, when the bus slows down and you make your way through the slight pouring rain with an umbrella in your hand, you didn't find any good-looking men you passed by on the daily. A little let-down, but nothing you were going to stop your good day, the song continuing to make you giddy.

Easy enough to enter the little diner on the corner, you find yourself stuck in front of the door, heart stopping as you watch your grandmother fret over this devilishly handsome man with your cousin sitting in front of him. You wanted to die a little on the inside. Your cousin, known to be quite the charmer, ran through women and men like they were disposable gloves. If she got her hands on him already, then it was too late for her chance. He would fall in love with her cousin and when she broke his heart, he would be too sad to stick around you.

If she already decided he was the one.

Taking a step towards the table, your grandmother turned her sights onto you, standing to greet you with a hug and kiss to the cheek, kissing her own cheek in return and getting a good squeeze out of her.

"Have you met Wilbur?" She gestures to the man sitting by her with a certain stare, reaching out with a hand and a small smile, a polite greeting. You smile back, shoving the butterflies down at the slightest shock when you shake his hand, relishing in the touch and trying not to eyeball his scruff. He made it look so good on him…

And your cousin goes on to tell the story about how they met in their shared geography class… about how they started dating and it's their three month anniversary. And how he was such a gentleman to your shared grandmother, so kind and so charming.

You think you managed to hide the disappointment, the little heartbreak tucked into your sleeve.

But in your mind, you didn't hold back any tears. So you had no chance? From the beginning, you didn't. He took the bus that he passed you to get to, he took that bus to go see your cousin.

You don't hesitate to greet the waiter that comes by to take your drink order.

You try not to be obvious, in your bitterness, that you were upset. Once your grandmother knew, the lady wouldn't stop until she knew why and only then would she try to make you feel better.

And it's humiliating.

To cry over somebody who was essentially a nobody to you. Just think about it, had he got on the bus for different reasons, would you have ever taken that chance and asked him out?

Just like she did?

You take another long sip, glancing away from the table as he looks at her with that dizzying smile. If only anybody looked at you like that.

Just another person who chose her over you. Another loss, no matter how small, cut deep in your heart. When would they choose you?

The lunch passes by in an excruciatingly slow hour, giving your grandma a squeeze and your cousin a side hug, Wilbur a glance and a wave bye as you hurried to the bus stop, going outside to be greeted with the rain again. You open your umbrella only to jump when Wilbur comes out and apologize, asking if he could join you, if you were heading to the bus stop. Your cousin and grandmother needed to stay to let the rain die down, as your cousin had driven the two here. But he had other things to do today, and needed to get on that bus. Preferably dry.

And because you're not a mean person, you nod, lifting your umbrella till your arm stretches a little to let him in your bubble. And as soon as you started walking, you knew you were in trouble when you inhaled the smell coming from him. A mix of deodorant and cologne, both subtle but such a good mix. So much so, you knew you were in trouble for wanting carpet burn between your thighs.

You berate yourself mentally, he's taken and he's taken by your cousin, your oh-so-beautiful cousin, the one everyone fawns over, adores and admires.

You know you have no claim to him, you were strangers before today, still, the burn in the back of your throat sticks even more so. And so, you keep walking with him, keep the distance as much as you can, until the bus stop arrives and you could stay under the shaded stand.

The bus ride is annoyingly long, and when you reached your stop, your surprise lasts alongside his, and when you explained your apartment was on the same path he was taking, he seemed more shocked than you.

"So is my apartment, what're the odds?" The chances… are in the millions, aren't they? And yet you stand in your apartment after having waved bye to not only your neighbor, but your cousin's boyfriend.

And the walls are so paper thin, your face burns at the thought. You always ignored the nagging thought, the one where you're too loud, the one where you know you've got neighbors and they need sleep as well.

But since you figured you would never meet them, them being your neighbors, it wasn't a problem to you.

However…

Now it is.

Now it is very much a problem, and you scream into your pillow, near tears as you knew you definitely jacked it off to him, thought about his handsome face, brown curly hair to tug on and of course, once he'd bumped into you and handed you your phone back, you had a good look at his long, thin fingers. And they felt cold, grazing them softly.

How good they'd feel pressing on the pad of your tongue, gagging you as he worked your thighs open, pressing himself between them and making it hard to keep your hands to yourself.

God and now that you knew his name? You're ruined.

Because as much as he is hers, you can fantasize as much as you want as long as nothing happens.

In your mind, you can have a piece of him.

But you'd have to be quiet.

It has been a total of two days and you are most definitely screwed.

After making an oath of being quiet, of staying away from Wilbur, you have found yourself bracing for opening this door because you have not been quiet this last hour.

No, you got home and upon hearing nothing in the next apartment, not even the A.C., you think to yourself, it's safe to masterbate, it has to be. He's obviously not home.

And when you undressed yourself, you imagined his hands, his hands pressing themselves into you, his mouth covering yours and then travelling down to-

"Wilbur…" a sigh left you, high and strung-out as your hand moves faster, dying for that tight coil in your tummy to release, to let you cry his name out and imagine he had done this, not yourself.

And that's when you heard footsteps in the wall behind your bed. Your eyes open as your hand stills, mouth wide open, trying to hear for more and that's when they pad away, a distant front door opening and closing. Sitting up and fixing a robe over yourself, you felt panic swell inside of your chest, harder to breathe in and out as you hear it.

A faithful knock on your door and then the soft call of your name. You cover your mouth, eyes prickling with tears but you wipe them away, pulling yourself together as you tie the cords to the robe tighter around yourself and hold a hand above the doorknob. Shaking only a little bit, you try to convey a normal but confused expression.

"Wilbur, what's going on?" A harsh blush dusted his cheeks and the shells of his ears, had he heard?

"I- uh, well I heard you say my name but I'm not sure if you were okay? You sounded like you were hurt?"

He definitely fucking heard you.

But he is an adult, he probably knows that you weren't hurt, that you were only imagining him saying only the filthiest things in your ear, panting and moaning and sounding wrecked as you were. He had to have known that you weren't, quote-unquote, hurt.

You hummed, looking out to the hallway, before looking back and shaking your head, "not hurt, but thanks for checking," you briefly smiled, before moving to close the door when his hand came to push against his, a soff baying noise coming from his throat. You blink several times at him as you widen the door, and he can't look at you straight on, but he does calm down with his flustered face. The red is now softer, more pink than anything.

"I was wondering, since you're not hurt, maybe we could… watch a movie, have dinner? Kennedy is stuck at work for several more hours.." his words kept trailing off, like he didn't know what he was going to say or if he meant to say them. Regardless, you bite your lip. You're already on the edge and being in close quarters with him?

You're pathetic but not this pathetic.

…

Apparently you are, because the next ten minutes were spent getting dressed in reasonably comfortable sweats and an old, oversized t-shirt, and your softest socks covering your feet from the cold floor.

And when you exit your bedroom, you find Wilbur on his phone, ordering food for delivery. His eyes lift, moving from your TV to your eyes, dipping below to look at you.

For the most part, you ignore it, settling into the spot next to him and pulling the throw blanket over yourself, leaning into the old material. Wilbur's phone meets his lap, tossed down unceremoniously, and you try to ignore the weird, unidentifiable look you know he's giving you.

The show he's pulled on is a time period piece, something you lose yourself in easy, only startling out of the trance it had you in when Wilbur stood to greet whoever was at the door. His phone lights up and you take a little glance, a small look as he lingers by the door.

It's your cousin, and she's… asking to know where he's at? What?

Looking away as the door closes, you smile at Wilbur and take hold of the styrofoam boxes, dealing with them accordingly. You'll just have to worry about that later. The food you're about to devour is making you drool, just a little bit at the corners of your mouth.

Annnnnnnnd the food's gone. You lean down to place the takeout box on the ground, turning in your spot on the couch, facing Wilbur as he keeps his eyes on the TV. You don't do anything, just look a little bit as you doze off into a food coma.

And with you knocked out cold, you had no idea that Wilbur turns to look at you, this time with an unabashed stare, he can look at you all he wants.

Look, being the key word.

He hesitates before reaching over, the tips of his fingers tickle on the apple of your cheeks, brushing away a stray eyelash. You hum, before leaning more into the couch, curling in the blanket a little more.

"So darling…" he hums to himself, before leaning over, close to your head and inhales deeply, taking in the soft smell of you. The fresh smell of laundry detergent and then your conditioner. So nice, you smelt so nice.

Because of course you did, of course you smelt nice and trusted him so much for just meeting him as your cousin's boyfriend. And just the thought of Kennedy, the slight obnoxious woman made his skin crawl.

But you…

Well. He is always just a little bit biased towards you, ever since he saw you on the bus, all alone and so quiet, quiet in your life and movements. But you were always breathtaking in everything you did. Made him harder than anyone else. And when you moaned his name so sweetly, he knew, knew that he had to see you then. Knew with a bit of time, you'd let him in and he'd get to taste you. From the sweat on your skin to the spit in your mouth to the cum leaking out of you, he'll taste all of you.

He'll have all of you.

He presses his mouth against the corner of yours, licking the little crumb sitting there off and finding you just as deep in your sleep before he'd gotten close.

You were so good to him, barely knew him but so nice, so good. He'll treat you for it. Soon.

When you woke up, you were tucked away into your bed and you moan just a little bit as your memory returns, Wilbur's quiet presence may have been helpful in your slight nap. Afterall, the voices in the show were low and he was so polite, eating just as quietly as he talked. And then there was the blanket. Covering you and shielding you from the AC's cold air.

And you fell asleep on the couch…

You cover your face as it burns quickly, your thoughts quickly doing the math and figuring out he carried you to bed. How embarrassing! You whine into your hands before falling back into your pillows, staring up at the ceiling before checking the time.

Just enough for a shower and a quick breakfast.

And if you get sidetracked, getting lost in the feel of the warm water and imagining a ghosting touch across your body then that's nobody's business and you grab a few snacks to shove in your bag, panicking when you can't find your keys immediately.

Relief sets in as you lock your door, trying to open it and failing to ease your mind, letting you leave with a bit of peace in your mind. You press the button for the elevator, tapping your foot mindlessly and getting in, leaning against the walls mindlessly. That's when Wilbur exits his apartment and waves you down, and you instinctively hold the elevator doors open.

Close quarters with him? Is that such a good idea? Especially with your budding admiration for his hands? Especially when your most reoccurring fantasy is the one where he chokes you while you ride him?

How you manage eye contact after that thought is beyond you, letting the door close after him and you press for the lobby.

Silence hangs in the air but not uncomfortably so, well, maybe for him. You were definitely stressing whether or not you looked even the slightest horny, hoping to keep your cool in check on the bus. But Wilbur curses besides you as you exit the building, saying he forgot something on his bed. He says goodbye and you're almost sorry to see him go. Almost.

You breathe out in relief, stepping inside the bus and taking a seat, glad you'll have the slightest amount of privacy and get to have your nasty thoughts.

What was it earlier? Getting choked by his hands while you sat on his dick? You sigh, smiling a little as you plug in your headphones, turning on that same addicting song while you think about making Wilbur toss his head back and moan your name.

While Wilbur had left something on his bed, it was just his wallet and then of course, the mold of a key to your apartment.

His heart in his chest as he checks it over, those moans from yesterday and all those days before the previous, he couldn't just sit in his apartment, twiddling his thumbs with his dick in his hand, when he could be hearing it in his ear.

You wanted him, really wanted him, and he wanted to give it to you. Even if he couldn't tell you or do it directly. He'll give it to you.

And when his phone rings from Kennedy, his eyes narrow.

Sure, getting with your cousin was necessary for the perfect meeting, seeing you flustered and turning in on yourself when you realized you were neighbors. You'll realize it's fate soon enough, if not already.

He couldn't wait for you to come back home tonight.

And your keys hit the table, clinking and ringing in the air as you lean down into a stretch, popping your back as your fingers graze the floorboards. And when you lean back into your feet, you come up and feel only a little bit taller, lighter in the spine if you will.

Dropping your bag on the couch, the only thing you take to your bedroom is your phone, turning on your cheap, bluetooth speaker along the way. Somebody's kid barfed on you today and you really, really would prefer going to bed early after scrubbing your skin.

Not that there was anything wrong with vomit, except everything wrong with it.

Made you feel icky, gross, disgusting even on the bus, made you feel like there were eyes on you at all times. (There was, but not because of the vomit.)

The warm water makes you melt, your bones turning to butter and if somebody took a comically large butter knife, they'd be able to split you into two masses of human butter. That is, if such things could happen.

But for now, you felt better, drying your skin off with a towel and laying down a dry one on your pillow. You were going to go to bed early, wake up a few hours before the sun and then enjoy, maybe, a period of intimacy with you and your vibrator. Just maybe.

And when you fall asleep, you don't realize you didn't even lock the door.

Wilbur smiles to himself, pocketing the key and opening the door with his jacket, being careful to close it before hitting the creaky range.

The door closes with a silent click, and he locks it for you.

Walking in, he notices all of the signs you're asleep. The first being your soft snores, the ones he waited for at night to hear before falling asleep himself.

He itches to move your things, move them to a pile where you can find it all, so easy, be there for you especially when your day is a little bit rougher than you're used to. Itches to hold you tight against him, pressing himself into your skin like a living, embedded, weighted blanket.

But that would have to wait, for now, there was the matter of you…

He found you curled like a fetus, and he couldn't help but stroke your cheek, just for a moment. You were so pure in this state. Eyes closed, mouth slightly open, chest rumbling with your snores. So alive when you're in between conscious and reality.

If only you'd let him in, closer and closer so he'd know you and only you. He'll get rid of your cousin, maybe not permanently, but he knows now, knows that you're not just going to do anything when he's taken by somebody close to you. (Well maybe not close, but at the very least, related to you.)

Let him in, he begs, in between snores and the silence. Let him in.

He nudges your face with his, remembering how deep of a sleeper you were when he carried you to bed last night. Breathing in your skin. Kissing your face slowly, moving to lean over you as his other hand came up to cradle jaw.

In your dream, you felt an itch at your face, the scratch of an unshaved face, and your dream morphed from the soap drama involving dolphins to Wilbur's face nuzzling yours as he pressed into you, groaning as he swallowed your own moans.

And truth be told, he was so close, so so close to you. Moving down, he gently peeled the blanket off, finding you in even less than what he saw last night. Loose shirt and tinier shorts. His mind latched onto it, repeating phrases and words, tongue sticking itself out to swipe his chapped lips. All for his eyes only, just for him to see. Only for him, all for him.

His hand slips under your shirt, pushing it up as his tongue reaches out, licking a strip from where the shorts begin above your belly button, to the nipples that began to harden from the cold and stimulation. Sucking and swirling on them, he bites just a tiny bit, tugging and pulling with his teeth while the other one tweaks with his forefinger and thumb, you shift in your sleep, snores coming to a stop and whiny, breathy moans escape your mouth, leaning into his touch just a tad. 

His mouth only moves to give the same treatment to the other nipple, before his hips twitch against your lower body, bucking slightly as he thought about fucking you and fucking you while you're waking up.

His mouth lets go of your nipple with a small pop, watching as you writhe beneath him and letting out those delicious moans and a tiny, "Wilbur, ahh," oh god, his pants needed to come off, his dick couldn't have possibly gotten harder but it did. It did and he wants to fuck you somewhere. Right between your legs, inside of you or using one of your hands or feet. But as he moved off the bed to take his pants off, something awful happened. You turned over and stretched onto your stomach, face-planting on your pillow, moving to sit up.

What a crazy fucking dream, you think to yourself, turning around and resting your back against the headboard. You glance around and see nothing out of the ordinary, not that you thought you would. It's just… his mouth felt incredibly real.

You slid out of your bed, heading towards the bathroom and barely closed the door.

Wilbur takes his chance and slides your closet door open, running out of your apartment with careful, silent footsteps. His heart beats next to his ear as he unlocks his door and acts like he just got home, laying down his own set of keys and re-placing his coat over the table. Moving to the thermostat, he turns the AC, desperate to feel something than the fire beneath his skin, licking his veins and teasing his erection. So close and yet, he's yet to fuck you.

But the world is not ending, you merely woke up.

Another day, another experience. Another time.

He had time.

The time that passes is relatively short. It'd been a total of two months before he'd attempt again. He'd broken up with Kennedy by then, unable to stand the way you deflated when her name flashed across the screen, hearing her talk about him so differently than what you've experienced.

He's been coming over more often, not that you're complaining. At all. He gets a little touchy, hands on your thigh, sliding up sometimes or even the times you've cuddled close to him, claiming it was all platonic. You may or may not have accidentally humped his leg, in your defense it was in your sleep, but still. The humiliation lasted for a while.

And then of course, the way he stared at you, got closer than before.

You welcomed it all. Especially when you got a call from a sobbing Kennedy that he'd broken up with her, the smile on your face and the giddiness in your heart was criminal. You offered her your shoulder, though you probably wouldn't have contained your smile.

She passed on your offer, determined to find a rebound and make herself forget him.

When you got this call, Wilbur was asleep on your couch, head tilted back with his face relaxed, hands unclenched on his thighs, which were spread out with his crotch so incredibly open. You felt like the worst friend, a pervert like no other. But… you couldn't help yourself, you lifted one leg and then the other, till you straddled his lap and grinded down onto his crotch, feeling him twitch under his pants. And that's when his hands flew to your waist, breath hitching as his nails dug in, eyes opening as he turned to see the person on top of him.

Forgive him for bucking up and grinding back, holding your hips down as he continued to grind, leaning forward to latch his mouth around your neck, your own breath caught in your throat.

Guttural moans left you, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he bites and sucks marks into your neck, and that's when one of his hands dip between you two, beneath your waistband and find the elastic of your underwear. He didn't wait a second as his fingers, cold as ever, found your most sensitive spot and abused it, working his fingers in the way that made you see stars.

"Let me," he pants into your neck, pulling back so he could capture your lips into a searing kiss, "please let me fuck you." He moans even louder into your mouth, using his other arm to wrap around you and grind his crotch against yours. And how could you say no?

"Fffuck, please. Please fuck me." You barely finished your sentence when he picks you up off his lap, standing you on your feet when he slides your shorts down, taking you into his mouth and moans at the taste. You cry as you dig your fingers and wrap them around his brown curls, pulling on them to bring his mouth closer where you need him. Bucking into his face, he only takes it, letting you shake in his grasp as you ride out an orgasm like no other, not even when you hooked up with other guys, they never did anything like this to you, for you.

You push at his head when it starts to hurt a little, twitching from the overstimulation, "Will, please, s'too much now," and he hears you cry but he wants to do this for you, make you scream his name while he's at it. Become a regular complaint.

And when your eyes sting from the painful overstimulation, you cry his name, tugging harder and harder on his curls, but he only moans your name louder. Only ever comes off when he feels you start to tremble, and he stares up at you with your slick covering his face. And he feels powerful, licking his lips and pulling you down so you could taste yourself, his tongue snaking inside of your mouth and running over every groove of your mouth, every corner found and accounted for. He pulls away and tugs at the shirt you're still wearing. And only says just a few words. "Take these off," and you're nodding, slipping them off and kicking aside your shorts and underwear, before pulling on his shirt. Eyes pleading with him to do the same.

And how could he say no?

That's a question he'll continue to ask of himself for the rest of the night. Sure as anything, this night would be burned into his internal memory, but some of the best parts…

"Shit shit shit, Wilbur, I'm- fucking shit, I'm close," and he moves his hand away, using both of them to hold your hips down, nestling his cock deep inside of you.

"Not yet, just a little longer," he pleads a little, determined to make you whine even more. And you cry in the air, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder and grip them, trembling under his hands before you could breathe slightly easier.

"Okay, I'm go-good now." And his smile, god the way he smiled at you, you had to steal a kiss, the way he can be yours, even if just for one night.

And another moment when he was catching his breath, leaning over your back before sitting on his knees and pulling you up, so you'd be flushed up against him, your back to his chest and his dick nestled inside of your warm walls, twitching ever so slightly as he came down from his high. And you shifted in your position, leaning into his back and your head on his shoulder, you felt him tighten his arms around you, one circling around your waist and another reaching up to hold your throat. And where his fingers didn't cover your neck?

Of course, he had to cover them with marks, let people know, let them see how good he made you feel, let them see how you belong to him and only him.

Squeezing your neck experimentally, he's not that surprised when you grasp his wrist, moaning even more so when it's strained. And he was going to make sure to tease you for this for a long time, hips rocking against yours as he thought about pinning you to the front door by your throat and fucking you against it. Anybody walking by would hear how you'd cry his name, hear how good he fucks you. Everyone would know.

The night ends with you passing out from the sheer amount of times you came, well, your night ended like that. He'd fuck you as many times as he could before you woke up again, loving the way your body moved under him in your sleep, wrapping your legs around his waist and getting the better angles.

You whimper in your sleep but every time he stopped, you would whine even more. "Who knew my quiet neighbor would be such. A. Fucking. Whore?" He enunciates with a thrust between words after such, hands pawing at your chest as he chased his high for the nth time tonight.

When he finishes inside of your mouth and the time rolls around four in the morning, he pulls out and decides that as exhausted as he is… he has to clean you up. After all, he wants this to happen again. And he won't let you go after this, no, you're his. You're completely his and no one was going to take you away.

So, with a clean rag, he gets you clean as best he can, pulling your ass into some shorts and covering you with one of those oversized shirts… actually he used one of his, but you could find out in the morning.

Sliding under the covers next to you, he pulls you close to him, smelling a little like him and covered in his hickeys. He smiles as he presses a kiss into the side of your head, this night has just opened up so many filled with endless amounts of fun.

He couldn't wait.

Literally, he couldn't because you woke up with your legs over his shoulder and him pounding his dick inside of you, hitting your sweet spot over and over, making you cry and dig your nails into his back.

But also metaphorically too, he couldn't wait. You were his. (And he was yours, you'd think to yourself in the morning, watching the scratches on his back as he moved.)

And in the end, your cousin only found out after walking in on the two of you fucking on the kitchen table, she was going to convince him to get back with her, but seeing as he made eye contact with her and continued to fuck into you-

She'll have that talk with you later.

But for now, you're happier than you've been lately. And that's all that matters to you.

...

THROWN TO THE WOLVES (IX)

Feyd-Rautha was barely able to hide his excitement on that day. Becoming the Governor of Arrakis was a huge deal – not only it proved that he was his uncle’s worthy successor if he was given such responsibility, but also Arrakis remained the most important planet under the Harkonnen rule due to the spice resources. Controlling this planet was like controlling the universe.

Before the official ceremony would begin, he had to deal with the formalities, all dressed up in the accurate black leather attire and pride on his face. Then his wife entered the throne room accompanied by the guards and from that moment he could only focus on her.

Her black leather dress’ design was mimicking his uniform’s one and her face was hidden by the veil made of chains and gemstones. She walked past him and bowed down in front of his uncle. Feyd knew that was the custom but it still made him clench his jaw and blood boil.

She straightened herself and fixed her dress on her abdomen as it was getting too tight in that area. Feyd smirked at the sight of her womb getting visibly swollen with his child. With his heir.

His wife signed the contract about him becoming the new Governor of Arrakis as the Atreides signet ring sparkled on her pinky finger. The truth was, her signature was not required there at all but the Baron loved to humiliate her in this way. However, she managed to do it with such dignity. Feyd wondered if she still felt like an Atreides. That signet ring wasn’t leaving her pinky finger at all ever since it had been adjusted to her size.

He wondered if it was a symbol of power for her or did she keep it for sentimental reasons.

Sentiment. That word was new in Feyd-Rautha’s dictionary. But now, when he watched his wife standing behind him with her hands clasped on her womb, he swore he could feel it.

He couldn’t explain most of the things happening inside his body at the sight of her. It was more than plain desire or sexual attraction. In fact, he had had lovers more adventurous than her and surely more experienced. But he had never met a woman like that.

She made him think of his mother, especially now, when she was expecting his child. He wondered what kind of mother she would be. Would she… love… his son? Or would he be another pawn in her court games…?

His mother was cold and distant but only recently Feyd had realised it was no reason to kill her. Was it possible that some part of him regretted it? His uncle had manipulated him into doing something he couldn’t truly understand back in the day – an act impossible to undo and sealing his murderous fate.

But even his mother had never touched him so gently like his wife. And he knew that it was weak to crave that but he did – he craved more from her and her only. He would kill anyone looking at her the wrong way but she could disrespect him in any way and he’d still be on his knees for her. He had never been as obedient to his uncle. He had feared him as a little boy and then he had hated him, waiting for his turn on the Harkonnen throne. The obedience to his wife was dictated by admiration and… sentiment.

Yes, that was a new word in his dictionary.

And his harpies… Well, he had been attached to them but killing them had felt cold – he hadn't even felt sorry.

The room slowly filled with people who were to witness his nomination for the Governor of Arrakis. Feyd stood proudly and already imagined the day he would be nominated The Baron Harkonnen.

And when his uncle officially named him the Governor, Feyd grabbed his face and brought it down for an angry kiss that was a mockery of gratitude. In that kiss there was a promise of the upcoming succession of the much more important title. In that kiss there was the Harkonnen poison and everyone cheered but the Baron knew.

He knew.

You were laying on your bed on the ship inside your cabin and playing with the Atreides signet ring on your pinky finger. It felt surreal to realise that under different circumstances you would had made the same journey a few months earlier with your family when your father had been gifted Arrakis.

Your stream of thoughts was interrupted abruptly by Feyd walking inside the cabin.

“Apparently, Rabban has no idea we are coming,” he announced with a smirk and sat on the bed next to you, waiting for your approval like a little boy after telling his mother exciting news.

“Why do you hate him so?” You only asked and his smirk dropped in an instant. “Is he not your brother?”

“Do you love yours?” Feyd tilted his head a little as he watched you carefully.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you smiled sadly at him and caressed your bump. “He is dead and so is his older sister. But in that relationship, I was Rabban and Paul was you.”

“I am better than Rabban. He means nothing,” Feyd shrugged his arms, visibly annoyed at the fact that you scolded him and started asking questions instead of sharing his excitement.

“Do you think you will catch a tan on Arrakis?” You changed the subject and chuckled at the confused glance he gave you.

“I’m not going there for vacation,” he moved closer to you on the bed and placed his hand on your womb. You felt its warmth spreading all over your body. “And neither are you,” he reminded you.

“I know.”

“The medic says that the Arrakis might do you good. The sun and all,” Feyd explained, a bit awkwardly.

“Yes, I know. But it is also not a very pleasant environment. It is hot and dry,” you sighed. “And full of spice.”

“You will have everything you want and need there, my Baroness,” Feyd leaned in to suck on your neck – his idea of a romantic kiss. You leaned back and sighed at the pleasure.

“How big do you think he is now?” You caressed your husband’s hand gently and he moved away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “Our son. Do you think he is still smaller than your hand?” You bit on your lower lip. “I like to imagine him so little that your hand covers him whole when you place it on my womb.”

“Do you think of him often?” Feyd asked and you furrowed your brows at his question.

“Of our son?” You wanted to make sure and he nodded. “All the time,” you answered with all honesty. “And you…?” You asked, carefully.

“All the time,” Feyd nodded and looked down at his hand caressing your bump.

“And what do you think?” You were scared to know the answer but you needed to know it.

“I’m proud to have a son. He will be the Baron one day and I will train his body to become even stronger than mine. And you will train his mind to be sharp like yours,” Feyd looked at you. He was serious but you chuckled at that as you caressed his cheek with your thumb.

“Just promise me that you won’t do to him what has been done to you,” you whispered as the smile disappeared from your face. “Please,” you pleaded.

“It has to be done,” was all he said as his jaw clenched.

“No, it doesn’t,” you shook your head. You could feel the tears forming in your eyes. Thinking of what your husband had gone through was painful enough but imagining your son going through the same thing was even worse.

“How else do you want him to be a great warrior?” Feyd laughed at you. “He will need discipline.”

“Discipline does not have to mean abuse. I want him to follow your steps out of admiration and respect. Do you want your own son to feel the same way towards you that you feel towards your uncle?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want your son to plot how to get rid of you? To wait impatiently for you to finally die and rot?”

“No, I do not,” he admitted after a short while of hesitation.

“Then we will do it my way,” you stated.

“I don’t want my children to be weaklings,” Feyd drawled as his hand squeezed your womb possessively.

“Neither do I,” you assured him. “And it insults me greatly that you think that I would raise them to be weak. I hate weakness,” you gave him a stern look.

“There’s your answer why I hate my brother,” he said and moved down to lay his head on your womb. You carefully caressed his temples in a soothing manner.

You still had to play little games with him sometimes, you assumed it would always be like this one way or another. But you loved him. Yes, you loved him.

Princess Atreides would rather die than admit that. For the Harkonnen na-baroness it was difficult to admit her feelings, too. But you didn’t mind giving up and finally allowing yourself to confess the truth. It was making you feel less lonely in the world. Perhaps it was love dictated by the fact you had no one else around. Perhaps you loved the way he worshipped you. Perhaps you loved him for the way he was making you feel so powerful and important. But at the end of the day, it was love. Not that you planned to say it out loud.

It was true that you hated weakness but Feyd-Rautha was yours. If he was to die, you’d die, too. You had no home to go to, no family member to turn to. All you had was him. Him and the dream of the life you two were supposed to live one day.

You knew that the black colour was a bad choice for the planet like Arrakis. But you couldn’t imagine wearing anything else. As a Harkonnen you had to establish dominance in your House’s way. Your arrival dress had to be black and made of a flowy material with a semi-transparent veil to protect your skin from the hot rays of sunshine and the wind full of harsh sand and spice.

The very first step you took outside the ship nearly made you dizzy. It felt so odd after so many months to feel the sunlight on your skin and to see the colours while not being inside any building – even if the colours of Arrakis were not many.

“My Lady,” Astra and Cara followed you outside, both widening their big, black Harkonnen eyes at the sight of the desert, “are you alright?”

“Yes, my girls, I am,” you held their hands.

“Let’s go inside, na-baroness,” the medic joined you. “At this time of the day it is recommended not to go out,” he explained and you nodded before following him with your girls, guards and all the servants carrying your things. Feyd was already inside the palace with his uncle and dealing with an embarrassed and humiliated Rabban.

You looked up through your veil and examined the sight of the building in front of you. It was not much cosier than the Harkonnen fortress on Giedi Prime. On the inside the design was raw as well, but some part of you was already used to such an environment.

“My Lady,” one of the servants approached you. He had already been living there for quite some time now as he had come to Arrakis with Count Rabban. “Shall we prepare the rooms for you and na-baron or will you take the room that belonged to the previous Duke? Count Rabban did not take it, therefore we left it untouched,” he informed you and you froze for a second.

“My father’s room? It is left untouched?” You gasped.

“Yes, my Lady na-baroness, Duchess Atreides,” the man was bowing down so low you became concerned about his spine.

“Enough of the titles, take me there,” you ordered and then you turned around at your servants. “Wait here. I will let you know what room I am taking.”

“My Lady,” they all nodded as you followed the man alone. You didn’t want even Astra and Cara around you because you couldn’t tell what your reaction to your father’s chambers would be.

“Behind that door, na-baroness,” the servant bowed down and pointed at the doors. You pushed them and let them close behind you as your body trembled at the sight. You lifted the veil off of your face and looked around.

The room was arranged in a similar way as your father’s chamber back on Caladan. Duke Leto hated any form of mess and he had everything always put in its place. You wandered around and touched all the personal belongings – his chair, his desk… You froze at the sight of the pictures he had there. One picture was of him and Lady Jessica, the other one was of you and Paul. There was even a tiny picture from his wedding day with your mother. You remembered that picture very well as you had once asked him about it. He had told you he kept it out of respect for her and for you.

You had no idea he would still keep it even if you weren’t around.

You opened the desk. Someone had been rummaging inside – most likely to take the jewellery and the important documents. But the personal letters stayed. Personal letters and… a small doll.

You had given it to him at the age of four and asked him to take care of it. You didn’t expect he had been keeping it all these years.

“Oh, father…” you whispered and brought the doll close to your heart. “One day, it will be my daughter’s,” you decided and were about to walk away from the desk when you spotted an unfinished letter.

Carefully and curiously, you picked the paper up and read the few sentences that he had written down before taking a break and never being able to go back to it again.

Dear Daughter, I am aware of the anger and all the resentment you must be holding in your heart towards me. I am not asking for much but please, write back to us. If not for me, then do it for Paul. We both miss you dearly and we are worried when you are not answering our letters personally. All we want to know is if you are safe and…

Your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat. So, they had been writing to you. All this time... And only Baron Harkonnen knew how many letters had been kept away from you. Of course he had lied to you. How could you be so stupid…?

You clenched your fist and then threw the crumpled paper back into the drawer. It didn’t change anything now. It brought you some peace, deep down, but it didn’t mean anything anymore. It wouldn't take back time.

You approached your father’s bed and spotted a robe laying there, discarded. He would wear that over his nightwear when he was leaving the room in the middle of the night due to an emergency. You assumed that the Harkonnen invasion was an emergency so sudden and violent that he had no time to put it on.

The robe was silk and dark green with the Atreides emblem on the chest. You sat on the edge of the bed and put the doll down on your lap before taking the robe in your hands and squeezing it as you brought it to your face. It still faintly smelled like him. It smelled like your father.

You buried your face in the silk and closed your eyes, remembering his embrace. For a short while it was almost as if he was still there, holding you and telling you it would be alright.

But it wasn’t alright. It hadn’t been alright and his daughter had died. You couldn’t tell when it happened exactly. Had Princess Atreides die in that cell on the night before her wedding? Or when she had been locked up after the Baron had told her about going to Arrakis and killing her family? Or maybe she had died somewhere in the meantime. Perhaps when she had seen Feyd taking an innocent life for the first time. It was really hard to tell but she was definitely gone now.

You startled at the sound of someone entering the room without knocking. It was Feyd – no one else would dare to do that.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said and froze at the sight of you holding your father’s robe. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you stood up and threw the robe on the floor as you picked the doll up. “Burn it,” you ordered. “And we’ll take a different room. They can clean up this one,” you approached him and handed him the doll in your hands. He took it, confused.

“What is this?” He asked.

“Our next child will be a daughter and you will give it to her when she is born,” you told him sternly.

He snorted at first but then he realised that you had been dead serious. The doll held lots of significance and meaning to you and he didn’t even have any idea how much you trusted him with it.

Feyd nodded his head after a long while and he looked down at the doll, awkwardly holding her in his pale hands.

“My Lady, what is your decision?” The servant knocked upon the door and joined you.

“I don’t want this room, clean it up,” you told him.

“Do you want a room next to your husband’s, na-baroness?” He asked.

“No, we will share one room,” you told him and he bowed down before leaving you quietly. “Unless you want your own,” you laid your eyes on Feyd.

“I want what you want.”

You were walking through the endless desert. It was like the oceans back on Caladan but instead of the water there was sand. The heat did not bother you and you did not feel tired at all. However, all this walking seemed pointless. You didn’t know where you were or where to go.

And then you spotted someone on the horizon. A tiny figure in a stillsuit and your heart skipped a beat. Was it one of the Fremen? You didn’t want to find out but your legs kept walking anyway as if you had no control over your body.

The figure remained motionless. After a while you spotted it was a man. You wondered why he was not reacting at all, seeing you walking towards him. Perhaps he was waiting for you. But why?

When you were close enough to see his face, you gasped. It was your brother, Paul Atreides, with his eyes blue from the spice, wearing a Fremen armour and he seemed to stare in the distance. Now you realised that he couldn’t see you even though you were facing him.

“Paul?” You asked as your body stopped walking with your face inches away from his. “Brother?”

He startled a little and furrowed his brows. Did he hear you…?

“Paul,” you said again and his eyes found yours.

“Sister,” his voice was different now. It was rough and held no affection. It made your blood run cold.

“What are we doing here?” You asked sadly. “Let’s go back home.”

“What is home now?”

“Caladan,” you explained.

“We cannot.”

You woke up abruptly and sat up, breathing heavily as you felt the sweat running down your spine and forehead. You had never experienced a dream so vivid and realistic as this one.

You assumed it was because of Arrakis. The heat could cause such a vision or perhaps it was all that buried deep down grief after losing your family. Being here now, in that palace where they had lived and died, it was making you feel odd.

Feyd woke up as well and you heard him reaching out for the knife underneath his pillow.

“It’s alright,” you told him. “I’ve just had a bad dream.”

“It’s your first night on Arrakis. Maybe it’s the spice messing with your head,” you felt his hand rubbing your back. “Lay down, come to me,” he whispered and you did.

You laid your head on his chest and hugged him tight like a scared child. Your heart was pounding and you felt dizzy. But you didn’t want to tell your husband what the dream was. He didn’t ask anyway.

On the next day you were gathered in a conference room. Everyone was there, the Baron and Count Rabban, too. You hoped that they would go back to Giedi Prime but it seemed like they wanted to stay and ensure that the spice production would go back to normal. You tried not to make a face at that as you watched the hologram globe of Arrakis in front of you on display.

“Shouldn’t the Fremen delegation greet the new Governor of Arrakis?” You asked.

“The Fremen do not have negotiations with us anymore. We are in the state of war, na-baroness,” one of the engineers answered you with a nod of his head.

“Let it be war, then,” you nodded back.

“What is causing the biggest problems?” Your husband asked as he gave his brother a contemptuous look. “Apart from the bad governing of the resources.”

“The Fremen have a new leader, a mysterious Muad’Dib,” The Baron explained and for some reason a shiver went down your spine at the mention of the name. You didn’t know why because it didn’t sound sinister or dangerous.

“And what about him?” Feyd asked. You could hear he was bored of the meeting and wanted real action as soon as possible.

“They are destroying our machinery and killing our soldiers, slowing down the production. He is unstoppable. Like a shadow,” Rabban explained and Feyd snorted at him.

“My big scary brother failed to deal with one Fremen savage,” he drawled. “Instead of slaughtering them all.”

“And what would our Baroness do?” The Baron interrupted Feyd and stared at you with a smirk. Suddenly, the whole room laid their eyes on you and you blinked a few times, surprised.

“Why would you ask a woman that?” Rabban inquired and Feyd hissed at him for that remark.

“Because I want to know her insight. Our Baroness happens to have interesting ideas,” Baron teased, his squinted eyes never leaving yours.

“I would oppose slaughtering the Fremen,” you stated.

“I’ve told you, she’s just a woman,” Rabban laughed.

“She is the Governess of Arrakis and your na-baroness and you will respect her,” Feyd barked.

“Enough!” You banged the fist on the table and the sound echoed through the chamber full of the Harkonnen servants and engineers widening their eyes at you. “Both of you!” You snapped. “Acting like children,” you scolded. “I am not the Governess of Arrakis, Feyd,” you laid your eyes on him and he looked a bit taken aback by your outburst. “That title does not work that way. You’re the Governor and I am your wife. However,” you looked at the Baron again. He was smirking all that time. “I do not think slaughtering them will bring us profit. They know the desert and the spice more than we do. We need them as obedient allies. But in order to have them as allies, we have to defeat them and their will to fight. We need to hit them with aggression that they have not yet seen nor experienced in their worst nightmares,” you raised your chin up.

“And that aggression is Feyd-Rautha,” Baron nodded at your husband.

“If we have negotiations with the Fremen in the future, I’d like to be there,” you announced and Rabban snorted. You knew that he did not mean these things personally, he was just frustrated that he was being replaced by his brother and seeing that an off-world woman was holding more influence than him had to be rough for his ego.

“What’s so funny, brother?” Feyd asked him and you rolled your eyes. They were at it again. “The only thing I find funny is how my wife has more brains than you.”

“And why is that funny?” You asked him, irritated.

“That is enough indeed,” Baron raised his hand. “We all have better things to do,” he announced and everyone bowed their heads as he left the room.

You watched your husband and his brother leaving right behind him, still having an argument like little children. Then you took a deep breath in and stood up to go back to Astra and Cara.

However, when you left the room, Feyd grabbed his brother’s neck and pushed him down on the floor. He basically threw him at your feet and you were surprised that he had managed it so easily since Rabban was a big and strong man.

“You will kiss her shoe and show your na-baroness respect,” Feyd ordered, “as you beg for her forgiveness.”

You looked down as Rabban looked up, scared. As much as it brought you some satisfaction to have a big, strong Harkonnen count who was called Beast Rabban at your feet, you felt sorry for him, too. 

“Feyd, there is no need,” you looked at your husband.

“No, there is, because I say so,” he insisted and kicked his brother’s head. “He will kiss your shoe or die.”

“I said, there is no need,” you repeated, more sternly this time. “Your brother is not my enemy like he is not yours either,” you pointed out. “Stand up, Count Rabban,” you ordered the man.

Carefully and hesitantly he moved up, trying to avoid looking into your eyes.

“You shall remember the kindness I have given you,” you told him and he nodded. “Now, leave.”

You watched him walk away as fast as possible and then you looked at your husband. He wasn’t pleased but he was trying to hide it. You could tell when he was angry very easily from his facial expressions by now.

“Do not torment him. He might be useful,” you told him.

“He will do anything to keep his pathetic head on. He’s got no honour,” Feyd snorted at that. “He would kiss anyone’s shoe if his life depended on it.”

“Then he is more like me than I have expected,” you only said and walked past him, leaving him behind, surprised.

“You are not like him,” Feyd followed you as he grabbed your wrist. “You have honour.”

“Do I?” You chuckled and turned around to face him. “I did everything to survive. It had nothing to do with honour. I became a Harkonnen instead of doing what my Atreides pride was telling me to do and that was to kill myself before letting any of you hurt me or change me.”

“It is different,” he was trying to deny your words. You were confusing him now.

“You also do not have honour, Feyd-Rautha. The way you used to fight drugged warriors in the arena. It has nothing to do with honour,” you reminded him as his jaw clenched. “And you know what? I don’t care,” you shrugged your arms. “My father, he was an honourable man. And look where it has gotten him. We are too cunning for honour.”

“We?” Feyd asked.

“The Harkonnens,” you explained and cupped his face to pull his head down and place a kiss upon his forehead. “Now, go, weren’t you supposed to terrorise the poor Fremen?”

He smirked at you and leaned in to place a hungry kiss upon your lips as his hand caressed your womb.

“Be careful, my darling, come back to me in one piece from the treacherous desert,” you bid him farewell and kissed him one last time before going back to your chambers.

Weeks had passed and the mysterious Muad’Dib remained uncaught, however the spice production came back to full efficiency. It was difficult to celebrate such victory, though, because you weren’t even sure if it was because of Feyd-Rautha being a good Governor or was it because of his uncle who still was present on Arrakis. Both him and Rabban. You wondered how things had been back on Giedi Prime – especially now, when all the important Harkonnens were on Arrakis.

You had your girls and your medic and much less nosy guards following you everywhere. The Arrakeen Palace was giving you lots of freedom and safety but it was also a much more boring place than the fortress on Giedi Prime. It was full of ghosts, too – you couldn’t stop thinking your family had been slayed in that very place.

You kept dreaming of Paul each and every night. It was making you feel weary and frustrated at this point. You didn’t want Feyd to know so you often would leave the bed quietly in the middle of the night and walk outside to sit on the balcony. There was something fascinating about the desert; it was so calm yet dangerous. By day it was too hot to just stare and admire but at night it was peaceful and with no one around to bother you.

Tonight you were standing and admiring the moon in your nightgown, with your hand caressing your swollen womb. It was getting bigger and bigger each day and you could feel the child move now. The medic assured you he was placed properly and growing healthy. You wondered if your son would be born on Arrakis.

“What’s wrong?” Feyd’s voice made you turn around. He was standing by the entrance to the balcony and staring at you.

“I can’t sleep,” you lied. You could but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to dream of Paul.

“Again?” Feyd sighed and approached you. He stood behind you and leaned your body on his chest. It made you sigh out of relief and he placed his hands on your abdomen. “Perhaps the spice is doing you harm.”

“No, the medic would have noticed that,” you shook your head. “Perhaps it’s your son keeping me awake,” you made up a believable excuse and Feyd chuckled.

“And what are you doing here? Staring at the sand?”

“I don’t expect you to understand the beauty of the desert,” you teased. “But yes, the sand, the moon, everything.”

“When I will become the Baron, we will have a little tour and visit every planet under Harkonnen rule,” he whispered into your ear. “You will see many beautiful things, my darling pet.”

“And when will that be?” You snapped, frustrated. “In ten years? A hundred?” You snorted.

“What are you talking about?” Feyd took a step back and leaned on the railing to take a better look at your face but you remained staring in the distance.

“What is he still doing here? I thought Arrakis was ours. Yet, he is here and it feels as if we are being supervised. Meanwhile, Giedi Prime remains without protection,” you drawled through gritted teeth.

“If you were him, would you leave us two to each other?” Feyd asked.

“Are you by his side again?” You finally looked at him, angrily. “He gave you the planet to govern and you’re defending him again?”

“I am not defending him,” Feyd got angry, too, at your words. “But it is obvious why he stayed here. He knows we might be plotting. He needs to keep an eye on things.”

“I have already plotted,” you lowered your voice and went back to staring at the moon.

Feyd kept looking at you in silence for a while before he finally spoke up again.

“And what is that?”

“He shall be slayed by night alongside most of the guards and servants. We will say it was a nighttime assassination attack by Muad’Dib and his people. They targeted the Harkonnen nobility and you were too busy saving your pregnant wife to help your uncle,” you whispered.

“Everyone will know the truth, it's too obvious,” Feyd told you. “It's only giving us an alibi for those who want to believe in it.”

“Of course they will suspect what really happened but they will not care. You showed them your worth in the arena and you brought back the full efficiency of the spice production. The Harkonnen lords will give you a chance. I am sure they’ve already grown tired and weary of the Baron,” you kept convincing him.

“What if Muad’Dib suddenly decides to show up and deny?”

You sighed and looked at him again, furiously.

“Just admit that you don’t want him dead, because in some way I cannot understand… you love him,” you hissed at him.

“Love?” It was the first time you heard him use that word and it brought a chill down your spine. It sounded so off and scary when your husband said it out loud. “I don’t know what that pathetic feeling is,” he assured you.

“I can see that,” you raised an eyebrow at him and walked away to leave the balcony and go back to your bedroom.

You were hurt, angry and frustrated and it was starting to bring tears to your eyes but you didn’t want him to see that.

Your husband followed you to the bedroom. In the way his footsteps were even heavier than usual, you spotted his annoyance as well.

“What do you expect of me? You’re so impatient, woman,” he started once the doors closed behind him. “You want everything and you want it now. I said I’d do it, I swore I’d do it but you admitted yourself we have to wait longer. If he dies here at night, do you think the noble lords of Giedi Prime will accept that so easily?”

“Then slay the ones who refuse to accept you as the successor!” You turned around with the rage making your blood boil. “Slay everyone standing in our way, as you promised. Do you want our son to be born in a world that he is manipulating for his own gain? Do you want to be his dog following the orders for the next few years? I am tired of playing the games with him on his own chess board. I want to make my own game, my own rules, my own board!” You tried to keep your voice down in case someone would spy on you but it was difficult with all that anger pouring out of you.

In one swift move, Feyd grabbed your chin and squeezed your cheeks as he brought your face so close to his that your noses were rubbing each other. There was so much anger in his eyes that the old you would start trembling out of fear for her life but the new you didn’t even flinch.

“Keep your voice down, we will do it,” he spat out.

“No,” you mumbled. “You will do it. You’re the hand that slays,” you reminded him and he kissed you so hungrily that you became breathless.

“I still want to kill you sometimes,” he confessed between one kiss and another as he led you back to your bed and laid you down on the mattress. “Choke you, slit your pretty little throat, watch you squirm under me as you bleed to death.”

“Whatever turns you on, my darling,” you chuckled at him as he looked at you sternly.

“If I hurt you, I’d kill myself right after. I’m bound to you forever,” he confessed and you smiled gently.

You didn’t want to tease him that after all, he did know what love was. After all, he did feel it. But you knew that he’d hate being confronted with the truth.

“If something happened to you, I would want to die alongside you, too,” you told him. “You’re the only one I have and none of my ambitions matter without you by my side.”

It was true. You didn't want to rule alone. In fact, you didn't want to ever feel lonely in your life again.

You were sitting next to Paul and watching the sunset in silence. In your dreams you would always meet him in the desert. Nothing else seemed to exist on Arrakis in the dreamworld – except for you and him.

“Why do you haunt me?” You asked and laid your eyes on his angry face. He was always so angry these days.

You hated Paul from your dreams. He was different. There was no kindness and gentleness about him anymore. If you were supposed to be haunted by his ghost, you’d rather be haunted by the brother you had remembered instead.

“I am not here for you,” Paul snorted and you furrowed your brows. Then he looked down at your swollen womb and you instinctively protected it with your hands.

“What do you mean?” You gasped.

“The spawn inside you shares my blood on both sides,” he answered mysteriously, which confused you greatly but you decided not to give it a second thought. After all, it was just a dream. “No, it is not,” Paul smirked viciously at you, as if he was able to read your thoughts.

“Get up,” you heard Feyd’s rough voice as his hand shook your arm. You woke up abruptly and sat up, trying to calm yourself after the dream.

“What’s going on?” You asked and looked around the dark room.

“Come with me,” your husband looked very pleased with himself as he pulled you out of the bed.

“What are you–”

“Shh,” he put his finger over his mouth as he led you outside.

You gasped at the sight of the bodies scattered all over the corridor of the palace. Servants and guards with their throats slit, laying in poodles of their own blood.

“Have you done that?” You asked quietly and Feyd nodded. “My girls…” you gasped.

“I haven’t touched your pets,” he assured you and stopped in front of the doors leading to the Baron’s chambers.

“Have you killed him…?” You were both excited and terrified of the outcome if the answer was yes. But, most importantly, you were in shock.

“Not yet,” Feyd answered as he pushed the doors open in front of you.

Not sure what his words meant, you entered the chamber carefully and spotted the Baron on his bed, letting out loud and raspy breaths. His life support machinery was no longer attached to him; you assumed Feyd had decided to give him a slow death.

You looked at your husband and spotted a sadistic sparkle in his eye as he was visibly enjoying the sounds and the view. He put his arm around you and walked you closer to the Baron’s bed.

That old and sick man looked pathetic at that moment and for a short while you even felt sorry for him. His eyes widened even further at the sight of you as he raised one of his hands towards you but you took a step back.

You didn’t know what to expect of him on his deathbed. Some part of you craved for him to admit his defeat and name you a worthy successor of the Harkonnen throne. Some other part of you expected him to curse you and your whole bloodline, which would be quite justified.

However, you certainly did not expect the sheer desperation and debasement.

“P-please…” He could barely speak. “Please, help me,” he tried to reach out for you.

You didn’t feel sorry for him anymore. You felt disgusted.

“You’re a weakling,” you smirked at him. “You called my father weak but I am sure that he did not beg like a dog on his deathbed. I am sure he died with dignity.”

“Please, help me…” He coughed out. “Help me and I will make your son an Emperor…”

“I do not need you to make my son an Emperor,” you laughed with contempt. “I am to become The Baroness Harkonnen; commanding the largest army and possessing the biggest wealth in the galaxy.”

“F-Feyd, I was like a father to you…” He searched for his nephew’s cruel eyes now, giving up on asking for your compassion and pity. “My boy…”

“Like a father, you say,” Feyd drawled. “I couldn’t wait to kill you for so many years now.”

“Please…”

“Oh, shut him up, how long will it take for him to die?” You sighed with an eye-roll as Feyd nodded his head at you and grabbed the short knife attached to his hip.

“Farewell, dear uncle,” he smiled smugly as he slit the Baron’s throat.

You watched mesmerised, without even blinking. It felt like a dream more than reality.

“The Arrakeen Palace will be considered cursed for all the Barons and Dukes from now on,” you only said.

Without a word, Feyd dropped the blade and fell on his knees in front of you, pulling you close by your hips and burying his face in the fabric of your nightgown right where your womb was. You knew what he wanted. A praise, an approval, a blessing.

“My Baroness,” he breathed out.

“Stand tall, my Baron,” you caressed his head and he looked up. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight and you cupped his chin to caress his full lips with your thumb. “You’ve made me proud and happy, my darling,” you assured him. 

He nodded at you and collected the discarded blade from the floor. It was important not to leave any trace. You both went back to your chambers and laid down in bed, pretending to be asleep – too excited to actually be able to drift off. This time you didn’t feel guilty even a little bit like after the death of the harpies. This time it didn’t even feel like murder or taking another human being’s life. This time it felt like nothing but relief.

You watched the sunrise through the window with your head on your husband’s chest and his hand rubbing your back, waiting for the remaining servants’ screams to signal the beginning of the new era.

There were screams indeed. People were running, yelling, banging on your door. Both Feyd and you acted surprised and startled at the news but Astra and Cara had to be the only people in the palace who actually believed your story. The medic inspected the Baron’s body and started to wonder if it really had been Muad’Dib’s work since the cuts did not remind of the Fremen weapons. Feyd only hissed at him so the medic stopped any further insinuations.

Count Rabban’s behaviour surprised you the most as he was following his brother around and seeming to act like the most loyal and obedient subject. He had quickly realised it was the best chance of survival for him. He hadn’t questioned anything so far and simply followed every word leaving his younger brother’s mouth.

Everything was a mess and chaos on that day but it was mostly Feyd dealing with it, basking in his new title and glory, as you were sitting on your bed with terrified Astra and Cara, holding them both and assuring them of their safety.

“How can you not be worried, na-baroness? I mean, Baroness?” Astra widened her eyes. “If Muad’Dib was here last night… Oh, I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if he went inside your chambers instead…”

“My husband would defend me,” you kissed her forehead and then you kissed Cara’s.

“What if he comes back?” Cara was shaking out of fear and you felt bad for making them feel like this but you couldn’t tell them the truth. “Now, when they know that we have fewer guards around?”

“We will be prepared this time,” you squeezed their hands. “My girls, I am sorry for being insensitive but I shall get dressed in mourning attire now and finally join my husband to help him with the officialties.”

Every lady travelled with a mourning dress just in case. Yours was a combination of black silk and black armour pieces with chains, connected to the matching headpiece. It looked dignified and intimidating – exactly how you wanted it to look like. You had already dreamt of The Baron’s death while planning your trip. Therefore the mourning dress you had chosen was accurate to your new role of The Baroness.

It sounded so good. For the upcoming days you would get drunk on the way people would address you. And then, when you'd finally be back on Giedi Prime, there would be a lavish celebration and official event for you two becoming the new Baron and Baroness. You couldn't wait for that day.

You smiled to yourself in the mirror and fixed the headpiece for one last time as you adjusted the Atreides signet ring on your pinky finger. On your pointing finger there was a huge ring with the Harkonnen emblem. And hidden between the folds of your dress and attached to the armour piece on your hip was the blade your husband had given you on the day of his birthday. No one could see it but you could reach for it swiftly in the case of emergency.

You joined Feyd in the conference room and everyone straightened at the sight of you. They always would but this time it felt different. You were the one holding the power – and they respected you for you, not for the fact that you were under protection of The Baron.

“Baroness,” they bowed down and went back to work, avoiding your gaze.

“How are things going?” You approached Feyd as he looked you up and down with a smirk. You put your hand on his chest.

“I sent Rabban back on Giedi Prime with our uncle’s body,” he told you and held your hand to lay a kiss upon it. “He will take care of the affairs there until we finish our business on Arrakis. I want to take care of that Muad’Dib rat before returning home and finding someone worthy to replace me as the Governor here. Rabban will also send us more Harkonnen troops since we have lost many guards last night,” he informed you in an official manner.

“We must avenge our late Lord Baron,” you clenched your jaw as you nodded. His eyes sparkled with mockery as he pretended to look worried.

You were sure that most people in that room had known the truth but they kept their poker faces on and allowed you to play out this little scene.

“My Lord,” one of the engineers raised his voice, concerned. Feyd turned around and you both stared at the hologram of the Arrakis globe. Red dots started to appear on the orbit. “We have guests,” the engineer explained. “The ships are definitely not ours.”

“Who is it?” Feyd barked at him. “Find that out, we are not expecting anyone,” he looked at you, a little concerned.

You were not pleased with the idea of guests now, out of all times, either. 

“Who dares to interrupt our peace unannounced on the day after our late Lord Baron’s tragic death?” You asked out loud, playing your mourning role the best you could.

What a mockery it was that you had to be hiding all the grief after your actual family but had to display fake tears for the man you had hated with every fibre of your being.

“M-my Lord, my Lady…” the engineer turned around with his eyes widened, “it’s the Emperor himself… The whole imperial delegation.”

You and Feyd looked at each other.

“It took them days to get here. There is no way they are here because of last night’s incident,” Feyd pointed out. “Still, I do not understand. I have brought the spice production back to full efficiency. What could be the reason for his visit?”

You moved uncomfortably as your son kicked your rib. As if he too knew of the importance of this sudden imperial audience. It would be the first time you’d greet someone of such importance as The Harkonnen Baroness and it would be the first time you’d see the Emperor face to face. He had visited your father a few times on Caladan but children had not been allowed near their meetings.

“We have to greet him and find out,” you took a deep breath in, preparing yourself mentally for the first challenge in your new role.

You shot Feyd a glance and he nodded at you, reassuringly. With him by your side, it couldn’t go that bad, you tried to convince yourself. His presence was equipping you with courage and determination you had not known before.

Everything you were doing now, you were doing for the two of you and your future. Nothing else mattered.

THROWN TO THE WOLVES (V)

Duke Leto was sitting in his office, trying to focus on the papers in front of him. All the important documents that required him to sign or disapprove. However, his mind was occupied with another matter.

He sighed and leaned back on the chair before laying his eyes on one of the pictures on his desk. Picture of his children from a few months back during one of the last events on Caladan.

His beloved Paul, looking shy and uncomfortable as always, trying very hard to present himself dignified. And his beloved daughter – a copy of her late mother – presenting herself very regal and confident in a natural way. Her mother had not been like that – Leto remembered her as a quiet and timid woman; a personification of delicacy. Her daughter looked like her but the Princess' strong gaze resembled his own. There was no stoicism behind the strength of her eyes, though. It was rage. She had been an innocent, sheltered Princess all her life. But there had always been that fire in her eyes. Lady Jessica had been the one to point that out one day and Leto couldn’t stop seeing that now.

Once again he found himself opening one of the drawers and re-reading the letter from Baron Harkonnen. His eyes skipped all the official parts about the alliance as he found the fragment about his daughter.

I can assure you that your daughter is behaving properly and gracing us every day with her beauty and wisdom. My nephew is mesmerised by her and he kept the new na-baroness in his chambers for two days after the wedding. She seems to be as occupied with him, therefore I would not worry about not receiving any letters from her. I do believe na-baroness is busy with her marital duties at the moment. It was very generous of you to send us such an exquisite gem in the form of your own daughter.

Duke Leto gritted his teeth. He did not believe a single word coming from Baron Harkonnen. And he hated the part about Feyd-Rautha keeping his daughter in the bedroom for two days. It was there to spite him. To let him know that his daughter had already been claimed by another man and belonged to him now.

“You’re worrying again,” Lady Jessica walked inside the office and interrupted him as he looked up to lay his eyes on her. He smiled softly at the sight of her. “She’s adapting well,” she stood behind Leto and put her hands on his shoulders. “Baron seems to be pleased.”

“I wish I could get a letter from her personally,” Leto sighed and hid the letter from the Baron. “I feel as if she resents me for sending her there.”

“She will have all the power there that she would never have here as your daughter or on her grandfather’s planet as some lord’s wife,” Lady Jessica pointed out. “That’s what she’s always wanted. Power.”

“I think you judge her too harshly sometimes,” Leto furrowed his brow.

“She is ensuring our safety,” Lady Jessica whispered. “She’s adapting well there, I just know it. And we are safe here thanks to her little sacrifice that will only give her power in the end. She is a winner, too,” she tried to convince her lover.

“She didn’t reply to my letter. Nor Paul’s,” Leto pointed out. “I can understand her deciding to discard me. But why Paul? He is her younger brother, is he not? I still remember them as children, when everything was easier. How he would run up to her, excited to play and spend time together. How she would take naps with him, holding him close when he had nightmares. How they would pick flowers together on the fields of Caladan…”

“They are not children anymore,” Lady Jessica chuckled softly. “Their childhood connection is long gone, Leto. Your love for them makes you blind but she’s been jealous of our son for a long time now. Even here,” she pointed at the picture on his desk that he had been staring at earlier, “she presents herself as if she was the future Duchess Atreides. That’s what she always wanted. So she is getting it. Only that she’s going to be Baroness Harkonnen instead.”

Weeks passed. They were mostly boring for you but you focused on reading the most important books from the Harkonnen library. They contained information that you had never heard of while studying the Harkonnen culture before. Most of your days you spent in the relaxation area and your husband’s bed.

Your body not only grew used to his roughness but also learnt to crave it. Your mind and heart did not love him – you doubted it was even possible – but your body desired him with every fibre and every nerve. You desired him to claim you and you desired to claim him. His hunger was insatiable, so you still had to share him with his three cannibalistic pets and other whores occasionally but you were gaining more of his favours with each day.

He was nicer to you. Slightly nicer, but he did not terrify you so much anymore. However, you still didn’t have control over him. He still would back out whenever you tried to show him affection. And in order to really keep him interested in you, you had to feed his sadistic desires, too. You couldn’t be obedient and kind at all times – he needed you to act up sometimes, he needed you to show off your teeth. He needed to punish you for something and see you scared from time to time. You believed that you finally found the right pattern of how to behave around him to keep him interested in you instead of making him feel bored with the new, shiny toy.

He had a few weaknesses when it came to you. Your hair, an almost exotic symbol of beauty in the world where no one had it because of the centuries of being exposed to the poisonous atmosphere. The colour of your skin, another symbol of being an off-world prize for the brutal na-baron. Your breasts – something about them would make him softer, at least as much as it was possible for a man like him. 

Today you decided to show off what he liked the most, to make him proud in front of the guests. You were excited yourself about the very first event like this as the na-baroness of Giedi Prime. The Baron had invited many guests and friends from the many befriended planets for the feast. The reason was unknown to you but you were happy that some social responsibility would disrupt your boring daily routine.

You began to search through your wardrobe. It would be your first public appearance since Feyd’s fight in the arena.

“I wore red then so it’s out of question to wear it again,” you reminded Cara and Astra. “I don’t want to wear black today, though. I want to stand out in front of the guests from the other worlds.”

“Na-baroness, may I suggest?” Astra swallowed thickly and you nodded at her. “I think black might be a good choice, my Lady. As you mentioned, there will be guests from other worlds. They are no Harkonnen. You are, na-baroness,” she bowed her head nervously.

“Thank you, my sweet. Even if I disagreed with you, I wouldn’t punish you,” you assured her and she smiled sweetly at you. “Actually, I think you are right,” you told her and she widened her eyes, not being able to believe that her opinion mattered. “I think black is a good choice. I don’t want to present myself as a tormented Princess Atreides. I want to present myself as a Harkonnen to these people. I don’t want them to pity me.”

Cara approached the wardrobe, encouraged by Astra’s little success. She dared to suggest one of the dresses. It was made of black, shiny and elastic material you had never seen before.

“What is it made of?” You asked her.

“Latex, my Lady.”

“What is latex?” You were not sure as you touched the dress. It didn’t feel very pleasant.

“Just try it on, may I suggest? It looks better on a person, na-baroness,” Cara tried to convince you and you agreed because you were curious about that odd thing.

You couldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. What it did to your breasts was unbelievable. It was tight, it was shiny, it was sexual. The inside of it was covered with a thin layer of silk so it didn’t feel uncomfortable on your body at all.

“This is it,” you nodded with a smile and brushed your hair with your fingers. You were tempted to let it loose again. “And a headpiece,” you decided.

It was not common for The Harkonnen noble women to wear diadems or headpieces because they did not look as regal on bald heads and they were easy to slip off. Therefore, you had not been given any after the wedding because they simply were not a part of the family collection. However, there was one that you had brought with you from Caladan. It had originally been golden but you had ordered the jeweller at the fortress to change its appearance a few days earlier, when you had found out about the upcoming feast.

Cara and Astra approached your vanity to take it out and place it on your head before securing it from falling off. It was now black and had small chains dangling off of it, forming a metallic veil that covered your face – enough to make you look mysterious but not enough to make you look like a Bene Gesserit witch.

The doors leading to Feyd’s bedroom opened rapidly. Astra and Cara got startled but you were used to him interrupting your peace in the most unexpected ways. He was not the type to knock. Not that you knocked before walking into his bedroom either. But he had the comfort of being able to lock his side of the door and you did not have that privilege.

“My Lord,” your girls bowed down and took a few steps back from you.

You laid your eyes on him. He was wearing his usual official attire, the leather uniform, similar to the one he had worn at your wedding.

He smirked at the sight of you but you could not tell if it was because he found you attractive or was it dictated by his contempt towards your choice. Perhaps both.

“I wanted to inspect your choice of outfit. You see, when we are presenting ourselves to our allies from the other worlds, we need to keep up appearances. I can’t let you pull off any stunts like you did in the arena,” he licked his lips and approached you.

“I would have pulled off a stunt if I had worn that garbage you wanted me to put on,” you reminded him. “I gave your people the na-baroness they expected.”

“And now you’re giving our allies the whore? Interesting.” He teased and you furrowed your brows. His words had disappointed and hurt you.

“I can change, my Lord,” you looked down, trying to see if it would soften him.

“No, keep it,” he ordered and raised your chin with his finger to make you look into his eyes. His pupils were darkened already.

He was impossible, you thought. Already turned on. Like an undomesticated animal.

“I understand that you want your allies to see that you turned Princess Atreides into your whore. But that was not my wish…” You explained truthfully.

“No? And what was that?” He cooed ironically and you knew that your genuine answer would only make him laugh.

“I wanted to present myself as a Harkonnen,” you answered genuinely.

Indeed, he laughed at you.

“You…” he hissed as he approached you. You held your breath when his face was a few inches away from yours. “...will never be a Harkonnen,” he stated with all the intensity. “You might get used to see me slitting throats, you might play your little games and you might enjoy it when I fuck you like a whore but you will always have that rabbit heart of yours. You’re weak,” he pointed out.

Keeping your poker face on was extremely difficult. You wanted to kill him at that moment. And he might have been one of the best warriors in the whole galaxy but your anger almost convinced you that your rage was enough to actually strangle him to death.

However, you had to remain cold and unbothered. You had always known that your game with him would not only be full of victories but also full of little defeats like this one.

Suddenly, his face softened as he took a step back and cupped your face.

“I want you to wear it. I want them to see what only I can fuck,” he leaned in to place a possessive kiss on your lips.

Feyd was keeping you close, with his hand on your waist at all times. You were practically forced to cling to him as he was showing you off like a trophy. Whenever some noble couple from another planet approached you to greet you, they were eyeing you up and down with a mix of emotions you could spot on their faces. Surprise and fear dominated. There was pity, too, but you didn’t allow it to bother you. You only hated that you presented yourself more as your husband’s pet than the dignified na-baroness.

At some point you leaned into him and put one of your hands on his chest. He stiffened at that movement but couldn’t push you away in front of all these people. However, that simple movement allowed you to switch the dynamic a little. Not only were you his but he was also yours.

“(Y/N)...” Someone’s familiar voice made you turn around in disbelief. 

“Grandpa…?” You gasped at the sight of him.

You had only seen your mother’s family twice in your life. They had visited Caladan when you were a child for a few days. And once you had spent a few weeks there in the summer at the age of fifteen. Most of your relationship relied on correspondence but it was not very frequent either. Your grandfather was a Marquis ruling the whole planet and his duties were many. Exchanging letters with his granddaughter was not the most important one of them, sadly.

“What are you doing here?” You couldn’t hide your excitement although you gave a woman next to him an unpleasant look. She was not your grandmother. She was the local Bene Gesserit that had been watching you sometimes whenever you ran into her on the corridor.

“I was invited by the Baron, naturally,” he extended his hands to hold yours and you allowed him. “He is my friend, after all.”

“I did not know the friendship was so close,” you admitted.

“Not many people were allowed to know,” he smiled at you and then he nodded his head at your husband. “Na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. I do believe you treat my granddaughter kindly,” he let go of your hands and Feyd brought you closer to him possessively once again.

“You ask her, my Lord,” Feyd’s fingers pinched your side as your grandfather’s eyes laid on you.

What were you even supposed to say?

“Feyd-Rautha is the best husband I could ask for,” you nodded as the disgusting lies spilled out of your mouth like it was honey. Your grandfather smiled at that. “He is the bravest and the most skilled warrior I have ever known,” you added. “There is not a day I do not feel honoured.”

“This makes me happy,” your grandfather looked very content indeed.

“Where is grandmother? Is she alright?” You asked, worryingly.

“She does not like long trips. Forgive me, I believe I am being called,” your grandfather nodded and walked away. The Bene Gesserit followed and you watched them approaching the Baron.

“I want to spend more time with him…” You looked at Feyd but his face was unreadable. “Can I?” You pleaded.

“He is busy now, can’t you see, pet? Don’t be too greedy and impatient,” he scolded you as if you were a child.

“But later. Oh, please,” you hated to show desperation in your voice but you were so happy to see someone familiar, some member of your family, someone who would hug you and comfort you… Someone who would promise you that you were safe.

“Later,” he nodded and you sighed out of relief. So much joy had suddenly filled your heart that you wanted to kiss his cheek but you knew he would get angry.

On the other hand, he wouldn’t cause a scene in front of all these people.

You moved even closer to him as if you tried to wrap around his body like a snake. His muscles stiffened under his uniform and then you pecked his cheek delicately with your lips.

Oh, the look he gave you was deadly. But he didn’t do anything.

“Behave or I’ll tell the guards to take you back to your room,” he threatened.

And all the joy that had filled your heart, disappeared in an instant.

The feast didn’t take long. You expected it to take the whole night but at midnight you were already in your black nightgown, laying on Feyd’s bed and watching him take off his uniform. He was oddly slow with it as if he didn’t feel like fucking you at all on that night.

“Are you coming or not?” You whined.

You hated to admit it, but you really were impatient for his touch.

“Waiting like that is part of having fun, my pet,” he chuckled and looked at the door leading out of his bedroom.

He was checking them all the time that night and you furrowed your brow. He was acting differently and it was making you feel anxious.

“Being edged is no fun to me, Feyd. When I want something, I want it now,” you crawled up closer to the bed’s edge, trying to play it cool and not show your nervousness.

“Edged, huh?” He smirked at you. “You know what it’s called?”

“I don’t only read history books, you know…”

“Enough,” he cut you off by cupping your cheeks with one of his hands. “You talk too much, pet.”

You could only communicate with your eyes now, so you tried to give him a doe-eyed look but the doors to his bedroom opened rapidly at that moment and you saw a bunch of guards storming inside.

“It’s time, my Lord,” one of them nodded his head and Feyd grabbed your wrists to drag you out of the bed.

“What… What are you doing? What is going on?” You asked, both surprised and terrified. Had you done something wrong…? Had you angered him somehow…? How…? By doing what…? You panicked.

Now it made sense why he had been undressing so slow. He was still dressed and ready for whatever would happen now. But you were in nothing but your nightgown, thrown at the guards who grabbed your limbs as you kicked and screamed.

They dragged you out of the bedroom as Feyd followed. At some point you yelled for help so loud that it surprised your own self how loud you could be. Feyd approached you and the guards stopped.

“Shut up,” he slapped your face, “and cooperate,” he added sternly. There was something in his eyes that was surprisingly not harsh or terrifying. Almost as if he was on your side.

You swallowed thickly and nodded your head, deciding to… trust him? Well, whether you liked it or not, he was the only Harkonnen person you could trust. The only person you had on that planet.

And perhaps the only person you had in the whole world. Your family had gotten rid of you. Your grandfather hadn’t looked very interested to spend time with you during that feast despite you trying to approach him on multiple occasions.

The guards took you to the throne room and your eyes widened at the sight of your grandfather standing next to the Baron. Count Rabban and the Bene Gesserit woman were there as well. The guards threw you on the floor and left the room. Feyd stood behind you with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Baron Harkonnen… Grandfather… What is going on…?” You looked at them and then you focused on your grandfather as he was the only person you loved in that whole room and the only one who shared his blood with yours. Even if his presence in this room and the fact he participated in this whole thing made your heart sink deep in your chest.

“You will spend this night in the cell, na-baroness,” Baron Harkonnen announced. For the first time he addressed you properly, probably because of your grandfather’s presence.

“Wh-what? Why?!” You stood up clumsily and looked angrily at your husband. “Feyd?” You asked him but he remained silent. You looked back at his uncle. “What have I done wrong, my Lord? Have I done something? Have I angered you? Disobeyed?” You nearly begged to find out because you genuinely did not know.

“Nothing that I know of,” Baron chuckled and you took a deep breath in to calm yourself down a little. He didn’t look angry at you, which was a good sign. “You will be kept there until you calm yourself down so you don’t act up too much in the upcoming days,” he mysteriously explained.

“Why would I…, my Lord?” You furrowed your brow since you couldn’t think of anything special coming in the upcoming days. Feyd would have another fight in the arena in two weeks but he surely hadn’t meant that. Especially that you had behaved well during the last one.

“Count Rabban and I are leaving for Arrakis tonight,” Baron’s words were slow as he was observing your reaction to each one of them. “To take over the spice production and kill your family.”

Before your mind processed his words, your body already tensed and nearly jumped in his direction aggressively but it was Feyd who held you from behind in his strong grip.

Once again, you had no idea if he was there to protect his uncle or to protect you.

“I don’t understand,” you looked at your grandfather, confused. You let Feyd hold you in place because the confusion and the betrayal that you felt were still not stronger than your will to survive.

You had to play this one right. Perhaps that was your most important trail in front of the Harkonnens.

Your grandfather looked at the Baron with a nice smile. The same he had been giving you earlier. You suddenly realised it was not genuinely kind; it was filled with poison and forgery.

“Let me explain to my granddaughter. I do believe we owe her that at least, Vladimir.”

Vladimir. He had addressed him by his first name…? You began to breathe heavily, like a wild animal preparing to attack.

“Shh, my pet,” Feyd whispered into your ear as he pressed his face into the back of your head. “Behave,” he reminded you.

“Go on, my friend,” Baron smirked and your grandfather started approaching you.

“What about an alliance with my father?” You asked him. “I am here to ensure the alliance between the two houses.”

“No, my beloved granddaughter, you are here for your safety,” your grandfather faced you and laid his hand to caress your cheek. “You look exactly like her…” His eyes softened a little. “My beloved daughter,” he whispered and then his face got serious again. “We have known about the plan to get rid of the Atreides family for a long time now. We could not let our sweet granddaughter be slaughtered alongside them all.”

“If you wanted to keep me safe, you could have just asked my father to send me to you sooner instead of allowing him to send me here,” you drawled out. You hated him now. He was a snake. Yet another person who had stood behind the whole scheming which resulted in you being on Giedi Prime.

It hurt. As much as you hated to admit that you still had feelings and you still had a heart that was able to be broken… it hurt. You had discarded the Atreides family but you still treated your mother’s family as your friends. As people who cared about you, who loved you, who would intervene if The Harkonnens would seriously hurt you one day.

But now you realised that you had known nothing about them and everything you had believed them to be was nothing but an illusion; a romanticised image you had created in your head to cope with the fact you would never fit in with the rest of the Atreides. Your mother’s family had always been an opposite in your head – they would love you, they would adore you, they would always be nice and kind, they would treat you equally.

It had been childish to think this way.

“I could have done that, yes… But we saw the opportunity for you on Giedi Prime. There has never been a woman from our family marrying into a family so important and so rich. Your aunt convinced the other Bene Gesserit sisters to allow this union. Your bloodline was satisfyingly enough for Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen…”

“My aunt?” You interrupted him. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t you know? Your mother’s sister is a powerful Bene Gesserit,” he explained, surprised. “I thought Lady Jessica would tell you.”

“We barely talked,” you spat out.

All your life you hated women like Lady Jessica. You hated the Bene Gesserit because you hated her. And now… another disappointment. Your own aunt was one of them. And she had been the one to seal your fate when it came to selling you out to these monsters.

“But I know enough about her,” you continued. “I know she wouldn’t be so stupid to let this happen. Lady Jessica would know your agenda.”

“Perhaps,” your grandfather nodded. “She is powerful. But even powerful people make mistakes. Lady Jessica was so desperate to get rid of you that she saw her own opportunity in it. She was desperate for you to disappear because you were growing too envious of your brother and too power hungry for her liking,” he told you and you clenched your jaw.

You felt Feyd moving slightly behind you. His grip loosened slightly.

“My pet…?” He smirked into your ear. He didn’t expect you to have it in you. The hunger for power. The hatred for your own brother. Those were the things he would never accuse you of. In his eyes, you had been nothing but a spoiled, innocent Princess before coming to Giedi Prime. Sheltered in a big castle and showing off her dresses all day long.

“So… Lady Jessica got betrayed?” You asked your grandfather and he nodded.

“She is playing her own dangerous game by trying to change the prophecy. The other Bene Gesserit were happy to get rid of her. She will be slain tonight alongside your father and their son,” he explained and walked away to stand next to the Baron again.

“Is she my aunt?” You looked at the Bene Gesserit standing next to them.

“No, she is the local one. A close friend,” your grandfather explained and she nodded at you. “She’s been watching over you.”

“It is time for us,” Baron pointed out and you watched him float away with all the machinery keeping him alive. Count Rabban followed him.

You didn’t know what to feel. You were conflicted in every possible way. But you knew there was no way of saving your family no matter what you’d do. It would only kill you, too, if you tried to intervene or beg for their lives. You had to think of your own life now. 

“Count Rabban!” You yelled after him angrily and Feyd’s muscles tensed once again as his grip tightened. He hissed at you but you did not care. His brother turned around to look at you. “Make sure to get them all!”

He froze for a moment, visibly surprised.

“My Lady,” he nodded and walked away after his uncle.

The guards walked inside a moment later and Feyd allowed them to take you from his arms.

They dragged you to the same cell that you had slept in before your wedding. When the doors got locked and you were left alone in the darkness, that was when you finally realised what was happening. Your body started to tremble and shake uncontrollably. You curled up on the bed and sobbed quietly.

As much as you hated your family for discarding you, as much as you hated your father for choosing Paul over you, as much as you hated Lady Jessica’s mending, as much as you hated Paul for simply existing… You never wished death upon them. Not even her.

You remembered being a little girl and playing with Paul. You remembered his curly hair in the sun, his laughter as he was hugging you, his small hands when he was handing you picked up flowers.

You remembered waking up in the middle of the night, crying after a nightmare. It was Lady Jessica joining you in bed, letting you cuddle her as she would tell you stories. You remembered her laughter during the rare occasions when you all had acted like a family. As a little girl, you had adored watching her getting dressed. She would allow you to try on her outfits and brush her hair.

And your father… He had always been trying to love you. He had always been trying to show you affection. He would sit you on his lap as he filed the paperwork. He would take you on his ship to show off what a skilled pilot he was. He would forgive you every outburst of anger, every whine and eye-roll of a spoiled Princess.

You never wished death upon them. Perhaps all you had ever wanted was for them to love you.

And now you couldn’t even openly grieve after them. You couldn’t let anyone see your hurt. Especially not Feyd. A murderer of his own mother would not understand your pain after your family’s death. You had to be a Harkonnen about it. No more rabbit heart. No more weakness.

You sniffed and hugged your own self with your hands. You thought to yourself that if you were to survive this night, you would survive everything.

The cell had no windows. You didn’t know what hour it was when you woke up. You went to the small bathroom attached to the room and took a quick shower before seeing yourself in the mirror.

Something had died in your eyes the previous night. You were an orphan now. You had no home. No mother, no father, no brother.

You almost threw up from this feeling but you managed to keep it all inside.

“You’re a Harkonnen now, you’re a Harkonnen,” you kept repeating as your fists clenched on the sides of the sink. “You’re a Harkonnen.”

You heard the door of the cell opening and you walked out of the bathroom to face Feyd-Rautha.

“You’re free to go,” he said, casually.

“So fast?” You asked, surprised. “Your uncle mentioned I’d spend a few days here at least.”

“He’s on Arrakis. I am in charge when he’s gone and I say you’re free to go. Unless you want to rot here,” he looked at your face as his eyes squinted. He was observing every single thing about you to see your reaction.

You decided to give him none.

You just walked out of the cell and he followed you.

“So… I’m free to go back to my room now?” You asked him and he nodded.

“I was thinking of showing you something, though,” he proposed and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Follow me,” he ordered and you nodded, curious to find out what he had possibly meant.

He led you to the throne room, which was completely empty.

“What are we doing here?” You asked but he beckoned you over to follow him with his hand. So you did and you ended up standing in front of the huge throne that belonged to his uncle.

Feyd sat on it lazily with his legs spread open in an almost vulgar manner.

“Is that what you wanted to show me?” You mocked him. “That you’re in charge now?”

“Come here,” he drawled out and you sat across his lap. Between your legs, you felt a bulge in his pants. You smirked at him.

To be honest, it was turning you on, too, to sit on that throne like that. If only the Baron could see you…

A few hours earlier you had been laying on the cold marble floor in the middle of that room, completely at his mercy. And now you were sitting on his throne, about to perform a blasphemous act, showing how little respect you had for him and his power.

“Take it off,” Feyd ordered as he tugged on the hem of your nightgown. You nodded and started to get rid of it. “Slowly,” he commanded and you obeyed.

Finally, you threw the nightgown away and allowed your hands to clasp behind his neck. He looked at you angrily but this time it did not make you move away. You weren’t scared of him anymore. You were a Harkonnen, too.

“Doesn’t it feel nice?” You whispered as you leaned in closer to his face. “To sit here?” You teased him as his hands began to grope your body as if it was a sculpture for him to admire but he was only a barbarian with no knowledge about the beauty of art. “Doesn’t it feel nice, my Baron?” You whispered into his ear and bit him slightly on the neck.

“You have to be patient, pet,” he finally spoke up. Feyd-Rautha was not stupid – sadly, because it would make life easier for you. He knew very well what you tried to achieve when you were calling him a Baron. He knew what you wanted him to do.

“Haven’t I told you…? When I want something, I want it now,” you reminded him and you joined your lips with his to give him that possessive kiss that he would so often give you. Everything you knew about these things, you had learnt from him after all.

Even if he was slightly surprised by your behaviour, he was trying not to show it. But there was some confusion in his bright eyes that was making you smirk.

“You have to be patient, my darling,” he raised one of his hands to trace your pouting lips with his finger. You gave it a little bite and giggled.

“Why?” You asked.

“It is not the right time yet... But it will be soon,” he hesitated for a moment, “Baroness.”

You gasped at that word leaving his heathen mouth. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen called you a baroness and there was no hint of irony in his voice. His body trembled out of desire and yours felt as if it was on fire.

“Good boy,” you breathed out. “I will wait then,” you promised him, carefully watching his reaction. He was too turned on and too needy to get angry now. He’d let you say and do anything but he wouldn’t push you away. He needed to feel your body on his. “I want you to fuck me here, my Baron,” you writhed on his lap impatiently.

“And I will,” he brought you even closer to his body as if it was possible. His clothes were rough on your naked body but you did not mind. In fact, it was pleasurable. “The medic told me this morning that it’s time to breed you, my darling pet,” he told you and you swore, you had never seen his pupils so dark.

Your head became dizzy at the realisation that there was a possibility of conceiving your heir on the Baron’s throne. It would be the most delicious mockery performed towards him that you could think of.

You were so excited that at that moment you completely forgot that your family had been most likely dead now while the Harkonnen soldiers were taking over Arrakis and burning the Atreides flags.

But why would you think of that? You were a Harkonnen.

His hands caressed your cheek, his lips attached to your neck, marking it with countless hickeys that you’d worry about tomorrow.

“I love you,” He whispered, words like honey and yet it meant nothing. You both knew this, and yet you didn’t want to accept it.

His hips moved at a desperate pace, “So good for me, love,” You cherished every word he said, knowing there’s a high chance you’ll never hear him speak or even touch you like this again.

His lips ghosted yours, his curls stuck to his forehead as he held you close, one arm on your thigh, other on your cheek. His cock hitting your sweet spot, making you see stars. “You feel so good baby.” He said, pressing his lips against your own in a desperate kiss.

Neither of you dared to break the kiss off until it left you breathless , he pressed his forehead against yours, his hand leaving your cheek and grabbing your hip, pistoning himself deeper into you, the noises you made were music to his ears, and he made sure to make you know it.

You wrapped your arms around him in a desperate attempt to bring him closer, he obliged, pressing his weight onto you as he pulled your face into another desperate kiss, this one he broke off to bury his face into your shoulder.

“Wil, I’m close-“ He hummed as he heard you utter those words, his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, your own noises filling the room.

“Me too baby, fuck.” He kissed and nipped away at your neck, you realized this will probably hurt like a bitch in the morning, but if it meant spending time with the man you oh-so loved and cherished, it’ll be something you’ll endure.

You felt your orgasm hit you like a truck, his hips stuttering as he pushed his entire length into you, a moan leaving his lips that you could only describe as angelic. He stood there for a few moments before sliding out of you, taking off the used rubber and throwing it into a trash can.

You felt him lay next to you, no words exchanged.

Why’d you agree to this? The whole friends with benefits thing?

You knew Wilbur since college, he was the quiet and lonesome type. You asked him to hang out after noticing you shared a lot of similar classes. He was reluctant at first, you thought he was pretty. So why not try and get close to him?

The laid back, looking at Wilbur as he pulled his boxers back on, laying there, eyes closed. You remember how heartbroken you were when you found he had a girlfriend.

Their relationship lasted only a few months- until she cheated on him. He was heartbroken, you offered a shoulder for him to cry on, helped him through such a rough time.

Well, a shoulder to cry on is the least you offered, quite literally.

It was the first time you two hooked up, the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing began with that. And yet, even after cheating, he was still in love with her. Why? It didn’t make sense. She barely gave two shits about him, always being dismissive and prioritizing her friends over him. You’d never do that to him, never.

His phone turned on, he got messaged by someone. You didn't even process the text, noticing the lockscreen.

It was her.

You knew you'd never treat him that horribly. You knew, deep in your heart that you would be a better partner than her. Why did he love her so much? It never clicked to you.

Once you found out she also streamed on social media a lot, you figured out why he always didn’t have much money. It could only be deemed as pathetic, saddening to look at.

You got up, going to his bathroom, taking a long shower. You didn’t bother with cleaning up too much, seeing as the whole room and bathroom was a mess. Simply getting it down to not feeling like doing it at the moment.

You put some clean spare clothes back on, going to the bedroom. He was lying on the bed, he looked like one of those perfect paintings you imagined could be seen in museums.

Laying next to him, you moved the hair away from his eye, kissing his forehead as you laid next to him. You couldn’t help both loathe his ex and yourself. Small tears forming in your eyes as you wiped them away.

How much longer could your heart handle this?

After your little trip to the mall with the plastics, and your argument with Wilbur, you were dead set on making sure he gets kicked out of their group. Whatever you were planning before was out of the window, it was pure revenge now.

You were walking down into the cafeteria, looking around to see if there were any free seats. You see Sally waving in your direction, so you go to her table. Sally, Karen, Gretchen and Wilbur were sitting down and eating together, Karen gestured you to sit next to her, and so you did.

"My mom's calling, I'll be right back." Wilbur quickly made up an obvious excuse, quickly leaving the table and going into the hallway. "That was the biggest lie ever, what's his problem?" Sally asks, picking up her bottle to take a sip from it. "I think it's probably me." You answered, you knew damn well he was avoiding you.

"Well, you are our friend now, so he can stop being a bitch about it." Sally said, checking her phone, getting up. "Shit, my dad's calling." She looked panicky, "Is it about the thing?" Karen asked, "Yeah, will you cover for me?" Karen nodded, Sally smiled as she ran away.

Gretchen looked at you, slowly getting closer over the table, like she was going to whisper something, "Y'know these two dated? He's probably avoiding her, not you." She said, looking at Karen. Karen just nodded, she probably didn't even hear what Gretchen said.

They dated?

"I didn't know they dated, did they break up?" You asked, Gretchen looked like she was going to explode, obviously she waited for so long to tell you this. "Well- She dumped him for being too clingy. Around four months ago. They went back to their usual being friends stuff, but Sally is seeing someone else right now. She's better off without Wil, honestly." You nodded, acting like you were agreeing.

"They only lasted a a few months, can't say I didn't expect from them to break up anyway." She looked at Karen, subtly asking for her to agree. Karen didn't pick up on the hint, just looking at you two. Gretchen just brushed it off, focusing back on you. "Why'd you ask? You wanna ask him out?" She teased.

"Ew! No! We haven't been friends for awhile so I might as well ask." She nodded as she listened, obviously thinking about something. "Well..He did say a few things about you, actually tons of things since you stopped hanging out." You gave her s surprised look, she just went on, "He had a crush over you back when you were freshmen," Gretchen was cut off by Karen, "Oh my god he's so not over it." Good to know Karen, good to know.

"Why do you think he's not over it?" Gretchen and Karen looked at each other, "Not sure. Just my personal opinion." You nodded as Gretchen looked at her phone, "The lunch is over in 2 minutes, ugh, I'm not mentally prepared for whatever the history teacher has prepared for today, I cannot listen to him." Karen got up, you and Gretchen followed as you went to history.

As you walked past the math class, you saw the history teacher talking with the math teacher. As you walked by, you could overhear the history teacher mention a 'two people project' for today.

This was perfect. You only had to change where you sit, and you'll be paired up with Wilbur. A project like this is a perfect excuse to confront him. You looked at the empty classroom, remembering where everyone sat. You had to switch places with Karen if you wanted to be paired up with him, so you did. You just took her seat.

As the students got into the class, everyone sat down. Wilbur was next to you, Karen behind you in your usual seat. The teacher began explaining a project, a two person presentation, where you can pick any historical monument and give a presentation to the class. You prayed to whatever God there was that the teacher would do pairs like he usually did, pair up two students next to each other. Since there were four rows, it was a guarantee it'll be Wilbur.

And so it was.

"These are the pairs, I expect this to be finished by next week." The teacher kept talking, you looked over at Wilbur, he was a bit annoyed, but it'll suffice for now. You had to think of a way to get him in your house, and preferably in a way where he couldn't just walk out when you confronted him.

You checked your phone under the desk, looking at the weather forecast, specifically a very rainy day. Which meant Wilbur couldn't walk home, and would be stuck with you. Perfect. This Saturday, you just had to get him to come to your place then. But this also meant you had to turn off the wi-fi for that day, because if he sent a message to his parents, they'd probably pick him up.

As the class ended, you approached Wilbur, "Where do you want to meet up to make this?" He looked at his phone, turning it off as he pocketed it. "Wherever honestly, I just want this done." He said. "Okay, my place at tomorrow. Does 4pm sound good?" He thought to himself, "Yeah it's okay." He walked away, you had him pushed into a corner with this. Now you just had to hope the storm would actually happen this Sunday.

It was Friday.

You just needed to sleep through the rest of the day and hope for the best, you felt your shoulder be tapped by a hand, "Huh?" You turned around to see Sally, "See you got Wilbur as your partner. Good luck honestly, I don't expect him to be normal around you for even a few minutes." He joked, walking past you.

..Okay, that just happened.

You packed your bag, walking out of the school, tomorrow, everything had to be perfect, or else this would be for nothing. You knew your parents were visiting your aunt, which meant you had the house to yourself. You just wanted wanted to get the truth. After the truth, you could use that against him and hopefully kick him out of the plastics.

You went to bed, content with how perfectly you planned this out. Absolutely perfect.

As Saturday finally came, you waited eagerly by your couch for it to hit 4pm. Around 3:45pm you heard a knock at the door, as you opened it, Wilbur was standing there with his bag. "Come in?" He nodded as he walked in, you gestured him that's it's okay to sit at the couch, "Just please take your shoes off." He nodded, leaving them by the door where your were..

You brought your laptop and history book, ready to start the presentation, waiting for the storm to start. Quite frankly, praying for it to start. You knew Wilbur never checked the weather, so you were 100% in the clear with what you were about to do. It all went too smoothly honestly.

As you sat next to him, you saw him occasionally look at you, the 'look' becoming staring in a few minutes. "You're staring. " You commented. He looked away, a bit embarrassed. He opened your history book, looking at the monuments you could choose to give a presentation on-

Until you heard heavy rain start to fall, accompanied by occasional thunder. There was this eerie quiet between you two, you had to break the ice. "I need to turn the wi-fi off, I don't want it getting damaged." You made up and excuse, going to the router and plugging it off. He tried to call someone, "The service is shit," he said. Perfect.

You sat next to him, reading through the history book, the same eerie quietness luring over the both of you.