#irulan x reader

[controld3vil]

sand walking?

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic!!)

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: how to seduce someone walking on sand.

notes: there hasn't been confirmed for dune 3 yet but denise villeneuve has said he's writing for it to happen. ill patiently wait for the day it's confirmed :) ALSO there are fictional/made-up mentions of the novel for the sake of the reader. they're made to be gender-neutral!! and this includes platonic flirting between cast members. i MAY have gotten carried lmaoo

“I mean- what do you think of the character? Do you think they deserved more screen time?” The clip starts off with you comfortably conversing with the interviewer. To say you weren’t deflecting their curiosity. In actuality, you were eager to learn what others thought about your performance and take on the character. The only other interpretation had on-screen was from the classic 1984 film by David Lynch.

The clip that has been widely retweeted back is of a cute moment you had from the first film of Dune (2021). Before release, little was known about your character’s potential. Apart from the enthusiastic book lovers, film viewers were clueless about what role your character would play after the first movie.

Denise Villeneuve didn’t reveal much to you in person. He wanted to keep ideas confidential until he was 100% on board making the project come to life. Still, rumors sparked through speculation and interviews with the cast members of Dune. Including an infamous short, that you forgot about, of yourself boasting about your hopes and wishes for your character.

“Yes! How could we not!” On the opposite side, the interviewer exclaimed as they leaned forward from their chair, closing into your proximity. Their hands clenched, tightening their grip on the flash card, full of questions. “The movie left us on such a cliffhanger. I think everyone would want to know what happened to Nerre,”

“That’s for Denise to decide,” Nodding you gave a relaxed smile while lifting one leg over the other. Your shoulders relaxed, feeling content and ecstatic about their response. “I can’t confirm anything until he gives me the green light to say anything,”

“I’ve also talked to Timothée this morning,” A shift in gears as the journalist flipped over another flashcard. You two had just fussed about the finale and its dramatic cliffhanger. “And all he had to say were the sweetest things about you,” At the mention of your costar compliments, you felt your skin heat up. Your eyes soften, expressing only fondness for the lovely message. A soft awh escaped your breath. “He’s very sweet. Timothee's always been fun to be around.” A fervent chuckle from the interviewer sends them into a feverish excitement. “And- he said- you had great flirting skills!” It was then your face morphed into complete shock and giddiness . “Really?!” The camera pans up on your initial reaction, eyes popping out in surprise and a bubbling laugh slowly erupting. “I’m glad someone appreciates my talents!”

Without context, the short clip seemed harmless. Your sheer reaction to Timothee's comment emphasized the fun chemistry the two of you had on set. Mirroring much of Paul and Nerre's friendship, you both complimented each other well in the first film, being the youngest surrounded by well-renowned actors. But the reason for the recent spike of interest was partially from Dune: Part Two and their interviews.

Fast forward to the debut of Dune: Part Two, it made success at the box office. Even surpassing the first film altogether. The entire cast of Dune was proud of the work they've made. The introduction of new characters played by wonderful actors and actresses all around.

Weeks after the early IMAX screenings, press interviews were being published amongst of the young cast members. A particular interview by IGV Presents brings together Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, Florence Pugh, Austin Butler, and yourself.

This would be considered to be one of your first interviews with the Dune cast after the box office release. You felt nervous yet overjoyed at the same time to be meeting your co-actors again after the conclusion of filming had taken place.

The spokesperson of IGV, Simon Harkness starts off the interview strong with a pleasant greeting. "Congratulations on an incredible movie. Uhm it is the definition of a sci-fi blockbuster and is absolutely phenomenal, so huge congratulations to you all!"

"Thank you!" The five of you all politely cherish his kind words.

"It's so lovely to talk to you. Um- Timothee, Zendaya, I'm going to start with you. This is probably the hardest question I've ever asked in an interview so you've been warned." An endearing giggle can be seen from Zendaya before allowing him to continue. "Sand walking, who does it better?"

Timothee immediately lifts up his microphone. "I'm going to give it to Zendaya here." Without glancing at her, you could tell Zendaya was happily smiling at his compliments. How quick he was to answer made it seem how well connected the cast was even given the amount of time spent together. The main lead continues very swiftly, diving more into how cinematic the shot was from an outside perspective, "I think it's the most- one of the most cinematic shots in the movie and she really has it very precisely down but it's the nature of the movie too that she's supposed to be better than Paul,"

"Is that what it is?" In return, Zendaya who sat next to him gave him a teasing look.

Quietly from afar where you sat, next to Austin Butler, you whispered. "He acted like he couldn't do it but," Soft snickering can be heard across the room.

"In fairness to me, I was going 65%- 65 to 70 too hard," Chalamet reasons justly as he glances in your direction before looking back to the interviewer.

"You dumbed it down," Harkness nods in a high-spirited manner. Right after, Timothee reluctantly agrees, keeping the mood light-hearted.

"I had to!"

"Just how committed you are!" Austin steps in, joining in on the joke.

"Zendaya, you can take that crown. I love that," The brown-haired man reassures as she recuperates with appreciative laughter. In truth, it was a beautiful scene between Paul and Chani you were lucky enough to witness behind the camera. And contrary to their light banter, you thought both actors did well at accomplishing what it was meant sand walk. Truthfully you had no scenes beyond walking through the desert but understanding the mechanics and traditions of the Fremen was as fascinating as it was watching it up close.

Suddenly it was Florence's turn to speak, "Zendaya taught me the other day and I had to just stop to stare at her feet."

"The swoopy swoop?" You asked in a cutesy tone, with furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't help but remember the few instances you witnessed your costars practice the sand walk to be one of the more adorable rehearsals you've seen on the sand.

"Yeah, her feet were so pretty! She was doing the swoopy swoops," The blonde acknowledges, waving her hands in a zig-zag pattern. As the replication of water and how her feet moved.

The interviewer's eyes light up, "Honestly I tried to swoopy swoop at home- um because we have a carpet in the bedroom."

"How did it go?" The mixed actress puts forward.

"Awful!" An assembly of bewilderment is seen between Zendaya and Florence as they quickly question why. However, they reassure him in the end that they would practice together in hopes of him archiving the sand walk.

Talks with simple questions went down the row. Florence discusses her experience from her beginnings, starring in Little Women, comparing those scenes in terms of royalty to Dune. In both films, she's worked with well-known actors and now Christopher Walken as the emperor and her father. She raves about how it was a dream come true. A dream she had when she was little. From this experience, Florence emphasizes the concept of learning and observing her fellow actors.

Another intriguing topic follows Austin for his experience between learning choreography fighting and Elvis's iconic rubber legs. In a sense, as you leaned forward on one of your seats, you became fascinated by the Elvis actor's comparison of it all. While Elvis's moves were televised and had to be precise for the camera, being a Harkonnens gave him more leverage in the freedom to move. It was a captivating question that you couldn't help but want to listen to more.

Comparisons aside, you didn't have much to note for your upcoming question. Which is exactly why you felt unprepared for what he was going to ask.

Harkness brings up your name for the finale. "You have done stunt work before. For the first and now second film, I've heard you compared it to rather- dancing. Is that what you think your relationship with the choreography has been?"

You gave a content hum, "You see it with the Fremen or Harkonnens right? Everyone moves so differently and for the course for me, I've had to adjust my choreo little by little. And I think that analogy you mentioned really does relate back to dancing. I don't know if it's because I was once a dancer or that I'm a visual learner," You shrug your shoulders, "But I see the choreography as a dance routine. You're moving alongside people, doing hits and jabs. Both are very hands-on so I would like to approach it as something I can always work on." Satisfied with your answer, you clapped your hands together.

"Kind of like sand walking no?" It was then that Zendaya swerved counterclockwise to face you.

Bringing back the conversation they had in the beginning about sand walking, your eyes instantly brighten. "Exactly like that!"

"I feel like you would be great at sand walking," Florence puffs, mindlessly shaking her microphone back and forth. "You- You already got the moves." Even Timothee came into agreement, humming and commenting you worked well with the choreography.

Austin Butler raises his microphone. "I think you gotta learn with me because I don't think I could,"

"Nonsense!" You give him a silly glare. "If you can do a killer rubber leg, I think you can sand walk." Florence and Zendaya both mumble their support and your male costar leans to have his arm around the back of your chair, warmly.

"Is that an open invitation I see?" The spokesperson, Harkness giggly pokes at than the rest of the cast turns to look at you. Your scowl morphs into an innocent one.

"Hm?" As you squint your eyes in hesitation.

"I feel like you could have the potential to sand walk but just with the right partner," Timothee chimes in, spreading his arms over his chair as well. Your brows furrowed accusingly, as if wanting to clarify what he meant by his comment.

And the French actor gives you a look, one you became so sure of. "Mm right!" A slight eruption of laughs before you straightened your back with proper posture. "With just the right partner,"

There were also hints mentioned in your interview with Timothee surprisingly not. This was one of the more recent ones to be published, as you finally were able to pair up with your favorite co-star (besides Brolin) from the first film. The two of you had strong chemistry despite having less screen time together in the second film.

The beginning of the video cuts to a clip of you answering an innocent question. "What I think about every day, is Timothee going to send to me a meme today? Uh, I hope so!" You give a sarcastic look to your seat partner as he latently laughs in front of you. "Or when is he going to text me you know?"

It then transitions to an interviewer from Heart commercial radio as he shouts out your names. "How are you both?"

"I'm doing good!"

"Going great!"

The radio show was more relaxed than you would've expected as the spokesperson was very down to the earth with his conversation starters and contagious warmth. Timothee was able to catch up with him from his last interview when he premiered his Wonka film. Eventually, the interview became more casual discussing working together, cooking, and trendy topics.

Timothee and you both went back and forth on favorite memories you had of the first film. And talking about the new cast members and new elements it had brought to the table for the film itself.

"Cool new characters this time," As you played around with the fuzzy microphone the camera crew gave to you.

"Yup lots of new people to meet," Timothee adds on, nodding.

The interviewer proceeds with the question, "And also you have seen- there's a clip about of you running around actually." He signals to you, "Of your reaction to something Timothee said about your performance in the first film,"

"Oh! I've seen it," Almost instinctively, your co-star raises his hand. "I was supposed to send it to you but I forgot." As he turns, to finds you looking lost at the topic at hand.

"Really what was it?" You almost looked concerned, seeing how you didn't understand what they meant.

Luckily for you, the Heart radio spokesperson managed to get a hold of the video from his phone, "It was a little callback of Timothee raving about your flirting skills."

As it plays, the camera zooms in on you and your co-actors reaction. The French actor couldn't help but look slightly embarrassed but smitten when the timing of your reaction came on screen. While you held an intrigued stance, arms crossed and a content grin.

"I am pretty good at flirting,"

"You really are, huh." At the same time, you both turn to make eye contact.

"I also heard Tim- that you thought that they would be your love interest initially?" At the radio speaker's inquiry, you couldn't help but in mid-sentence, finally, swerve your head suddenly.

"Yeah well, fun fact actually," The male actor tries to reason, sitting up. "In the novels, Paul and Nerre almost did become a couple!"

It was a well-known fact of that in the first novel, there had been slight changes to the story. Initially, it was said that the author, Frank Herbert had planned for Paul and Nerre, the character you played to have a romantic connection after the fall of House Atreides. Nevertheless, it was later scrapped for another plot, that of instead having Chani as the love interest. But even decades later after the novel’s release, it was something fans still fuss about.

"Oh, I heard about that!" Almost in awe, you nodded, your attention fully on Chalamet, wondering how far he was willing to go beyond spoilers.

"Do you think Nerre would ever meet someone then?" The afro man questions, adjusting his microphone. "Since- Paul has Chani, I feel like if we ever get a potential third film, that could open some doors!"

"If a third film could happen," You start, fiddling with the lining of the mic cover, "I hope so! I mean I got the moves, I got the skills!"

"Keep practicing your sand walk and we'll see," Timothee cutely chimes as you proceed to blow a raspberry at him. Only for him to lightly swat you away.

Despite your failures to have scenes of sand walking, your cast of a crew were more than happy to show you. Javier Bardem and Jessica Ferguson were quite supportive in your interest for something you did not have any part-time. A few behind the scene videos show the actor demonstrating from afar the slower version of the walk.

Though your back was facing the camera, viewers would pick up and recognize it to be you. Jessica as well was off to the side, in her luminescent costume of a million robes, clapping from side to side.

Another later pans to you taking long strides across the sand in the background. In front of the camera are Josh Brolin and Javier having their turn in the video, to discuss their relationship and the previous they have worked on together. However, viewers couldn't help but pinpoint your figure alongside the frame trying to master the patterns of what Javier taught you from the previous clip.

[faetreides]

summary: the discovery of a long hidden planet operating outside of the emperor’s rule threatens to upend the balance between the great houses and shift the tides of war. (ongoing series)

pairings: paul atreides x reader , chani x reader, leto atreides x reader, lady jessica x reader, irulan x reader, feyd rautha x reader (AFAB crown heir!reader)

cw: reverse harem type crack treated seriously, cosmic horror elements, undecided/possibly ambiguous endgame, dark/yandere behavior & themes, comedic undertones, dark & nsfw content, canon compliant as much as possible but there will be gaps in my memory, past leto & jessica (they split after she became a reverend mother)/past paul & chani, each character pursues reader separately, oc planet & oc house for reader, pretend like it still makes sense for leto to be there, don’t think too hard about the logistics of this in general, vintage sci fi inspired, i just wanted to have a silly unrealistic series where it’s all about the reader lmao

series masterlist:

coming soon !

1. stardust fallout

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tag list (ask to be added or removed, NO MINORS):

youngestxhearts, tian-monique, angel-gabriella, isnt-itstrange, flower-frog, aerangi, saturnhas82moons, ch0co1atech1p, mcmisbehaving, zoeaxrodriguez22, hellomadamebutterfly, sh4d0w69he4rt, moonsoulk, skythighs, laennetargaryenskywalker, nexilismirus, howibecameabadassbitch, hoely-maria, aubs444, timhalamet, allison-119, your-favorite-god, homopheli, droopycoquette

- faetreides 2024

[nyrasproblm]

Hey, hope you like! 🤍

Your Highness, the princess

Irulan Corrino x reader (servant, lady-in-waiting)

Word Count: 1K

Warning: none 🤍

You were a servant brought from Caladan to the court of the new Emperor Paul, the move was difficult as the climate of Caladan and Arrakis were completely different. But what comforted him was knowing that maybe the princess also felt that way, after all, Kaitain also had a different climate.

Your job was just to clean a few rooms, the emperor had many Fremen willing to help with whatever, so servants weren't really necessary, meaning you had some free time. In your free time, you liked to walk through the corridors less frequented by royalty, going unnoticed so you not get scolded, you liked to read and also... you liked to watch Princess Irulan.

Watching her from afar was your favorite pastime, watching the graceful way she moved, the way her pretty dresses moved as she walked, her short blonde hair almost always hidden by some headpiece. She was synonymous with royalty in every way, she was graceful and carried herself well, you had to hold back your soft sighs when you watched her.

But she was also observant and attentive, so you couldn't watch her for a long time. At the present moment, you were reading sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the walls in the back area of the Palace.

You heard footsteps but didn't pay attention, the servants and Fremen were there all the time. A presence rose near you.

— What are you reading? — a voice asked softly and you froze.

You looked up and saw Princess Irulan standing, slightly bent over, trying to see what you were reading. She had her arms crossed behind her back, wearing a flowing light blue dress, without any headwear. The catatonic moment passed and you quickly stood up, closing the book and bowing deeply to her.

— Your Highness, forgive my carelessness.

— I didn't want to interrupt your reading. What were you reading? — she asked again.

You swallowed hard and lifted the book, it was a guide to the Great Houses.

— This is great, where did you get it? — she took the book from your hand and started leafing through it.

— I brought it from Caladan, princess.

— I see you like reading, then. — she opened a small smile.

— Yes, princess, but it doesn't interfere with my duties, I promise! — you moved your fingers, restless.

She made a gesture with her hand, as if she wasn't paying attention to your duties.

— Do you like reading more than looking at me?

You lifted your head so fast you felt pain in your neck, your eyes wide.

— Princess, you must be mistaken-

Irulan closed your book and handed it to you.

— I always notice your presence, the Bene Gesserit sisters say this is a talent of mine, I can feel your presence even if I'm very far away. — she placed the book in your hands. — Why didn't you come to see me in the gardens today?

You looked down, embarrassed, scared.

— Have you been too busy with your duties? I wore a special dress today, I wish you had come to see it. — she gestures towards the flowing blue dress.

You looked up, paying attention to the dress, it was beautiful, but the fact that it was Irulan wearing it made it even more beautiful.

— It's very beautiful, princess... — you looked up shyly. — You are beautiful.

Your heart beat faster when Irulan opened a smile, she was born to be a princess.

A few weeks later you were taken by surprise when Irulan told you that you were now her lady-in-waiting. You could see, your eyes didn't lie, Irulan had no friends or allies at court, her father and sisters were in exile, plus the fact that Chani seemed to be more of Paul's wife than she was.

You were happy with the change of role, now you could be close to her and attend to all her requests. Irulan liked to be close to you physically, always holding your hand, touching her knees to yours, touching your waist when she guided you through the gardens. Gardens was a charitable word, they were just a few palm trees surrounded by the Palace wall, Arrakis didn't have exactly fertile soil.

One night, you heard one of the Fremen commenting in the kitchen that the emperor and Irulan had argued and you frowned, you respected Paul as your emperor, but you didn't like the way he treated Irulan at all. You walked down the halls to her quarters and waited until she gave you permission to enter.

The princess's quarters were dark when you entered, you looked around but it took a while to see that she was on the balcony, her back to you. You approached the doors that led to the balcony slowly, walked through them and entered the balcony, feeling the wind of Arrakis on your skin.

— Princess?

You called but she didn't make any move.

— Princess, I heard of your disagreement with the Emperor. — you took a few more steps closer. — Is that why you're like this?

She continued looking at the dunes.

— I'm sorry for disturbing you, your highness. — you bowed and turned to leave.

You took a few steps before her voice stopped you.

— Stay. — she turned and you turned to her, seeing the mark of tears spilling on her angelic face. — Stay and never betray me.

She approached you and with a delicate movement took your face in her hands. You took a deep breath, shuddering.

— Never leave me.

She lightly rubbed her lips across your face, then took your lips in a delicate kiss. You ran your hands down her arms, feeling her shiver too. She moved away from you and you looked at her confused, she took one of her hands and lowered the strap of her dress, exposing her shoulder.

You got closer, used one of your hands to hold her waist, brought your face closer to her exposed shoulder and placed light kisses on her collarbone, hearing her sigh.

— Never. — you whispered against her skin.

[diana-foggy-master]

𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

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like or reblog if u save

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[alavestineneas]

i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest

pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, daddy and sister issues, bald men chapter 1 - chapter 2 word count: 6,5K

author's note: hi beautiful people! this chapter may be classified as a prologue (yes, I am aware of its size, sorry, lol), but it is still integral to the story. we love evil people, especially evil bald people, in this house, so have fun and don't forget to wash your hands before reading! also, if you see things that are not canon, just know that me and the books are two parallel lines and we do not cross. feel free to point out grammar mistakes, though - english is not my first. love you!

Kaitain, 10176 AG

The violent streaks of light fight with the heavy cloth of drapes to find their way into the small, stifling chambers. The time was slowly crawling towards noon in the heavy summer heat, and the woman lying on the heavily decorated sheets was battling to get a breath in. Whether because of the annoying star, or the poisoning waiting, the patterns of sweat stained her tired face with esculent ornaments. Her lips, formed into a thin line, gleamed with small spots of dried crimson.

''Where is the messenger?'' The woman's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes glued to the dancing light filtering through the window. ''The girl is strong; I can't hold her for much longer.''

The black figure on the chair in the corner slightly shifted at words. She was veiled, despite the heat—like a black hole, she seemed to suck the little air left. ''Forbearance,'' her raspy voice cuts through the room. ''The child makes you impatient. Control yourself.''

''I've waited, and waited long enough,'' the woman snapped, her frustration evident in her trembling hands. ''A few more minutes and all that is left of her will be a corpse.''

''Be quiet, Echidna. The child will live. If not, she was never meant to be part of our world in the first place.''

The woman clenched her jaw in a wave of pain and nodded. The girl ought to see the light of this planet today. Deep in her thoughts, she almost missed the rushed steps behind the door.

One of the Emperor's guards burst into the room, his eyes almost frantic. ''Lady Anirul has graced the Imperium with a daughter.''

Echidna smiled in relief, but her expression quickly changed as a beast-like cry pierced the air. The child was coming, with little care for the damage it caused to her aching womb. She tore the tissue down to the individual cells, gnawing her way with fists and elbows, moving the bones aside with brute force. Soon, her own cries were answered by much louder ones, as the head of the girl showed itself, covered in a thick layer of almost black blood. Just for a moment, the woman wished it would not steal another breath from the room, but she sharply composed herself. With a final push, the child left her body forever, leaving it a raw wound.

The small creature shrieked when the black figure approached, and slender, wrinkled arms took it from the warmth of rufous-red liquid. Echidna watched as the figure carried the girl away, resting her hurting body against the soaked pillows. She fulfilled her duty; she granted Bene   Gesserit the daughter they wanted. She is bleeding under a beautiful sun; she is holding the ghost of her child in her arms—the real one was never hers anyway. Echidna knows the Emperor will not come. From now on, it is just her and her never-passing pain. Thus, Kaitain, home to the Corrino dynasty, was warmed by the light of a new sun—Princess Irulan, an heiress to the Imperium—and chilled by the shadow of her sister, born a few minutes later.

-

The calmness of the gardens was disturbed only by the soft strokes of brushes against a thick canvas. YN sighed, her eyes still fixed on the tree nearby, its young branches swaying with the wind. Her body ached from stillness, the tension in her neck from holding her head slightly bowed spreading down to her small back. They posed for a portrait of what seemed like an eternity to a child, and was almost it to an adult who dared to inquire; the painter, while satisfied with the draft, looked at the group of young girls almost in fear—no normal child of that age would be unmoving for three hours. And yet, they were.

YN felt one of her sisters shift even through the thick fabric of her silver dress. Small Chalice turned, her cheeks red from the heat or tiredness, her lips forming a pout—the child was tired, sleepingly rubbing her eyes. YN thought for a moment, debating if the punishment would be worth it, or if her sisters could wait just a little bit more until the man with colours would end the session for today. She noticed how Irulan's face was starting to droop, her eyes fluttering closed and opening just a second later. Their youngest, Wensicia, was already asleep in Irulan's arms; her golden hair spread across her and YN's laps as a beautiful cover, shining under the faint sun.

''I am tired, Master Chen. We should end the painting for today,'' YN finally spoke; her voice was almost a whisper. She did not know whether it was not to awaken her sister or out of fear of the Emperor's anger; it did not matter. The man nodded and left, taking his canvases with him, leaving only a few drafts behind. Then, the sisters were left alone in the garden.

''Thank you,'' Irulan said softly, placing her head on YN's shoulder.

YN only nodded. Her eyes found the paper not so far away, her gaze studying the strokes of the pencil with interest. Wensicia, a beautiful girl of two, was smiling brightly, holding an olive branch in her chubby hands, her small feet peeking under the hem of her white dress. Small Chalice was at the opposite end of her, her curly hair surrounding her head like a halo as she leaned forward, holding a small dove inside her palms. Then, sitting at the bench, surrounded by lush greenery and bushes, they. Irulan and the Other.

YN was placed just a step away from her older sister, her head turned away from the gaze of the viewer. The delicate folds of her silver dress carefully cascaded down, creating an air of mist around them. Her hands were empty; she did not know if the artist hadn't decided with each object to grace her with, or left them hollow intently. She looked like a shadow—a ghost, maybe; her eyes were escaping the viewer as if hiding a secret.

Irulan was different. She was a sun-kissed creature, her head facing straight ahead. Her eyes, as if inviting for a challenge, were made from duty, steel. With a burning star on her regal forehead, crowning the streaks of golden hair, Irulan was water and air, dulcet and ever-bending; her figure held the place and her pose was distinct and commanding.

YN looked at the girl beside her, who was now quiet nearby. Irualn was wise, the wisest of the sisters; her eyes were all-seeing, her heart all-knowing. She was created in the shape of a mother since they could walk, and the small ones bathed in her light, drinking her till the last drop —like flowers following the warm embrace of the sun. The only one who could not enjoy the love was her, the Other. The other sister, the other half. For they have been too close in age, too similar to let each other pretend the burden was not a heavy one to bear.

When Irulan was natural in her all-caring shape, YN had to claw her way to the only role left—the father. An unbent tree, a silent soldier—she was not born to fit as one, but wishing for a different order of things was almost blasphemy. That's how it always was with them—out of two, one was the protector, the other - the protected. "Husband," Irulan humorously called her often. She smiled, and, for a moment, the wave of resentment in YN's soul calmed. She never called her wife in return: Irulan was too whole to be one, too proud to be moulded into. She stood alone, on a higher pedestal than all of them, closest to the Emperor, whom the Other was to call father, and closest to the Truth. No, Irulan was God.

God does not know how to love someone who is not his servant, because there is no one who would refuse to serve him; it is the only way. God guides, despite all one's protests. God gives, and God takes. God demands; Irulan demands—silent obedience without a need to explain or answer. That, she takes from their father. So, the Other takes a blade into her hand without compassion for her dead wishes and learns to wield it in God's name. She is the one little ones turn to when the world is too wicked for their fragile souls when the creatures under their beds lose all of their human form and turn violent. She takes their sins and bears the punishments, for they are not deserving of such cruelty. YN thinks not of her own guilt—what difference would one scourage make to one who counts in centuries? And when the sun shone, and God smiled, the Other almost forgot of the bruises she carried.

-

The first time he saw her, it was not supposed to happen at all. Feyd-Rautha just closed the door to Maester's chambers with such force that it shook against lean walls; the grumble echoed in the long corridors of Giedi Prime's fortness. The ache in his body was muted, but still present; the torn flesh inside his heart howled and clawed, slicing the ribcage in half. He would've screamed, or perhaps beat his hands bloody against the concrete until the dull pain turned into something as sharp as his knife's blade. Maybe he would've drowned himself in a small water bowl by his nightstand and done anything to escape the shame and humiliation that consumed him from within. But instead, Feyd-Rautha stood still, his jaw clenched tight and his breathing shallow. One day, it will pass. One day, he will see the world choke on its own spit.

That's when he noticed a small, shadow-like figure at the end of the hallway staring at him. A girl, not older than him, was in a dress so foreign to him that it hurt his eyes. The daughter of the Emperor, he guessed. One of many—only then would the golden stitching on her sleeve would make sense.

''What are you doing here?'' he barked, caring little for the common courtesy. Of course, she was a guest almost as prized as her father, but she was in his territory and dared to look at him for long enough without averting her eyes. Long enough to notice the bruising on his pale skin and a swelness surrounding his lips. Long enough to hear him cry.

''I was walking with my mother, but then I turned into the wrong hall,'' she shrugged. ''Will you be kind enough to show me the way out? Or should I find it myself?"

Feyd-Rautha ignored her question. What a weird creature she was—with cascades of hair and eyes that seemed to see too much. ''It is dangerous to walk these halls without guard, Princess.'' It is dangerous to be here, alone with him and the weapon strapped to his hip, but he did not add it.

''There is no use of guards if the one who wishes to kill you is their master.'' The girl took a step forward, pointing to the weapon at his side. "I am not afraid."

Feyd-Rautha laughed. It came out more as howling than human sounds, the abrupt nature of it ringing with high notes, tip-toeing down to hysterical; it sounded creaky, like his throat was not made for such sounds; yet here he was, laughing. ''Come,'' he gestured to her, his hand moving quickly, like ordering a slave around. ''I will show you why you should be.''

So, they walked. Inside the grandiose chambers and small rooms, filled with ancient artefacts or the newest technology Harkonnens came up with; inside the green lavish garden inside the dim castle and the training grounds, Feyd-Rautha showed every place that was built to display the greatness of his house and bestone fear inside both guests and people inhibiting it. He wanted to see the horror in the girl's eyes, to make her eyes water and her frame flee. Instead, he listened to her steady breathing just a step behind him, her curious questioning satisfying another need he did not know his heart possessed: reverence.

He was the youngest member of the ruling line, the smallest stone in the castle of power his uncle had built. His title meant nothing within these walls; he was too small in comparison to the Baron and his authority. Feyd-Rautha was feared, despite only being nine; he was the shadow in the corner that grew longer as the sun set, the whispered name that sent shivers down spines. But here, in the hallway he led the girl into, he turned out to be something else.

''Stunning,'' the girl whispered beside him.

Weapons. The walls, from the floor to the high ceilings, were covered in ritual and fighting blades. The pride of house Harkonnen, the tree of their dynasty, black, silver, golden, and steel knives, swords, and daggers gleamed in the dim light. Feyd-Rautha smiled, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Welcome to our burial ground."

They stopped near every one, his voice briefly covering the story of each blade and his owner; barons that came before him; fighters and rules that defined their legacy. Some still have blood on them—the highest honour; some look almost virgin. The small signs underneath them tell the names of people who wielded these weapons, their stories forever immortalised in the cold metal. ''Each Harkonnen ruler is crafted a blade of his own, the one he is to honour in battle.''

The girl nodded, her fingers tracing the shape of the last blade carefully. Her palms danced around the sharp edge, taking in the ancient symbols she had no chance of knowing. ''Will you have to kill Baron Vladimir in order to have one, like he did with his father before?''

Feyd-Rautha paused. Of course, he has thought about it before. The idea he repeated like a mantra in his head for all of his short life, the belief that spread burning flames down his spine. The words left his mouth for the first time but felt almost natural against his cracked lips. ''I dream of the day I have the chance to.''

The pair of foreign eyes that stared back at him held a glint of intrigue that quickly changed with a flash of acknowledgement. Feyd-Rautha held the gaze; not a single thing about it was hard. Still, he was the first to turn away; the burning sensation of being  seen  made him want to tear his flesh apart. ''Let me escort you to your rooms, Princess. The walls grow colder as the evening approaches.''

-

The weather on the planet leaves too few guards out of their breath, Irulan notes. The striking sun burns through the rounded windows of man-built walls, the frankly depressing landscape of huge boxes constructed with little intent for anything else but utilitarianism. She must not fear, while those lands will also be under her power with time, but the dreadful atmosphere of the lonely planet makes her skin break out in hives.

She believes the people here are more terrifying. White, hairless creatures with eyes as dark as the sun above them speak with just nods and courseys, paying little to no attention to the world around them, save for the concrete floors.  ''Tell them to set themselves on fire, and they will,''  Irulan recalls Baron Vladimir telling her father over the banquet. She believed it to be a simple boast at first, but now, after a few days in the strange world, the words make greater sense.

Perhaps, the harsh weather made people here hardened. Perhaps, such cruelty is necessary for survival. What terrorised her more was her sister—the one who now silently reads nearby, her long dress carelessly spread on the floor. Irulan would never allow her dress to wrinkle before the concluding dinner, but she is not Irulan. Despite them being demisisters, they shared fewer similarities than one could guess. Two lambs, as many in court would call them—the white and black ones. They knew one another better than anything else; where one went, the other followed. Where Irulan failed, her sister succeeded. What was allowed for her sister, was fobility towards Irulan. No one was embedded in their small circle; no one could get close enough to understand the bond they shared—together, they were whole.

Yet as they grew older, the bond seemed to thin. The path to the mind of her sister was more often closed to her now, her thoughts veiled by the silence rooted deep into her veins. Irulan knows they are just growing up, trying to find their path in the unknown. But she is scared; what would be of her without her sister? What use would the river have without fish to fill it?

''I shall go,'' her sister says, closing the book. ''The dinner starts soon, and I wanted to return the book before it.''

''Is it the one Na-Baron recommended?'' Irulan voices. Truth be told, she would never touch anything that Baron or his family possessed, even more recommended, but her sister seemed to enjoy the ancient text.

''It is. Rather interesting are the traditions of these people. Did you know their slaves have no tongues?''

Irulan feels sick to her stomach; the thought of having slaves brings the small bits of her recent meal to her very present tongue. ''Can I come with you?'' she asks, instead of answering. Irulan does not want to leave the faint safety of her rooms, but even more, she does not want to be left alone. She feels vulnerable—she is not of power here, despite being the embodiment of it in all of the other corners of the Imperium.

''You know I walk without guards.''

Irulan knows. While she is not able as much as bathe without the presence of someone with fighting knowledge, the rules do not seem to apply to her younger sister; she can move freely, as she wishes. Was it because she carried a thin blade with her and knew how to use it, or because of the lack of care from their father? Irulan was not sure. What she was sure of, was that no woman of twelve should leave her sister alone in the halls of Harkonnens' fort.

''It is just to the reading room and back, is it not?''

''Yes,'' her sister nods.  ''I'll take you,''  it means.

So, they walk. Fortunately, the guards usually waiting outside are nowhere to be found, and they manage to slip away unnoticed. Irulan holds the hand of her sister tightly, with each noise from the outside digging her nails deeper into her soft palm. Her sister says nothing; she steps calmly into the labyrinth of corridors, navigating them without much evident trouble. Soon, they find themselves in front of a huge black door, incarnated with words Irulan hold no knowledge of.

Inside, the chamber is massive; it forms a beautiful, round circle with ceilings so high that the air in it is always chilly. Rows of books and manuscripts fill the shelves out of oxidant, contrasting starkly with the white wall. The black circle table of cold stone is filled with replicas and ancient artefacts, each emitting a soft glow.

Who knew the small, desert planet held such treasures inside? Irulan forgets about her sister entirely—the texts call to her, golden lettering shining under the light. Irulan follows the names on the covers: legends, myths, histories, and art overviews. Some even contained gardening and soil research; Baron likely held those for a good laugh.

Irulan travels deeper and deeper until the voice of her sister addressing the only library keeper almost disappears, consumed by tall bookcases. The section she finds herself in is solely dedicated to martial arts; where, if not here, would the hundreds of books on such a topic be stored? Some of them are used; the spines are slightly older; others look brand new.

Irulan is brought to her senses only when she notices a black figure moving in the corner of her vision. She puts the book back and Listens. Just like the Sisters taught her, her inner ear picks up the faint voice of her sister, and the moving of two sandaled feet—the slave handling the books. She feels something else, too. A presence familiar enough to recognise but not enough to name.

''We have to go,'' she says, grabbing her sister by the shoulder and pressing. ''We will be late,'' she explains to the slave. Not that it would question the whims of the princess.

''Why?'' her sister turns to her, confused. ''I was looking at some other books. Weren't you also?''

''Please,'' Irulan whispers. ''We spent enough time here as it is.''

Just as her sister was about to answer, the atmosphere shifted. The air, sitting in its calmness, heavied. The silent before slave turned on its feet, its eyes burning holes in Irulan's body. It lurches towards them, opening its obsidian mouth to show the blackened void inside—indeed, it possesses no tongue.

Irulan freezes. The void seems to suck her in, the sharp mouth growing wider as its owner approaches her body. The fear paralyses her, planting her otherwise quick feet deep into the ground. Now, her training as Bene Gesserit should awaken—she should oppose, or at the very least dodge, the attack. But the black mouth continues to draw her in, clouding her thoughts with terror.

The body beside her shifts; her sister is quick. With one strong thrust, she pushes Irulan aside. '' Hide ,'' the voice within her head commands, and Irulan has no force to object to the technique. She crawls under the heavy stone, frantically looking for something—anything—to protect herself with.

Despite the long skirts, her sister moves like Adam's wine; she bends and turns, and strikes the man far taller than her, but he seems determined on the idea of killing her. Her sister grunts under the heavy hits; one sits in her abdomen, and another lands on her knees. The slave's nails leave a trace on her skin, rough enough to pierce the young dermis.

Eventually, her sister grows tired; the slave pushes her to the ground, pressing his slender body on top and closing its white, almost translucent hands on her throat. Irulan clasps the found sharp cutting instrument to her chest, desperately trying to calm the wave of fear forming there.  ''I must not fear. Fear is a mind killer,''  she whispers again and again.

She watches as her sister's hand slips under her clothes and emerges an illicit, slender blade—it shines under the light just as lettering did on the books a minute ago. To Irulan, it feels like a year's hundred. ''No!'' she wants to shout as her sister raises the steel and preys it into the eye of the slave, but the words are unable to leave her throat. Like a waterfall, crimson covers her sister's face, staining her light grey dress in hot circles.

The slave falls on his back, his hands leaving their place on her sister's neck.

''Enough, please! Sister, stop!'' Irulan cries, crawling out of her hiding spot but daring not to get closer.

Her sister doesn't hear; she lurches towards the man in a slick puddle and takes his life quickly, cutting his throat in one swift motion. The blood from his arteria leaves the body in pulsations; they spatter everywhere, some drops going as far as touching the shelves.

The silence settles in the chamber once again; only the sound of weakly flowing blood disturbs the stillness. Her sister does not shed a tear; she meticulously cleans the blade with the slave's white cloth and slips it back into the folds of her gown.

''What have you done?'' Irulan whispers. Her hands tremble; the sight before her crawls into the deepest corners of her mind and tears everything there down. How can one kill so easily? How can one be so cold and calculating, as if it were nothing more than a daily chore? How could that one be her sister, the one she shared a life with?

''I protected.'' Her sister's voice is hoarse, but firm. There is no remorse in her tone, only weariness. ''What have you  done?'' She turns to face her. Her hair, carefully braided by servants for dinner, is undone; the wet strands of it grip her face like a vice, framing the unseeing eyes.

Like that, she looks like a woman mad. Irulan backs into the safety of the doors, feeling her fear turn into something much greater. ''Do not come near me,'' she commands. Just as the heavy doors close behind her, she sets off running.

-

YN waits until the footsteps of her sister are no longer heard, and only then does she come out of the reading room. She pays the body on the ground little attention; no one would bet an eye on the death of a useless creature like that. It did not intend to kill; rather, someone made it do it. Who, in their right mind, would try to harm the heir of the Emperor? How would they know that Irulan would follow her there?

Irulan. The one who watched as the Other almost gave her life for hers, the one who had the nerve to be repulsed by the blood on her hands—the blood she spilt protecting her. What do you do when you are not allowed to be angry at God? Why does God shame one for the will she herself inflicted on one to bestone? YN would ask the sun, but it hid behind the walls of the fort. She would ask, but no one would answer.

So, she does what she is meant to do—finds her way into the large dining hall, where everyone, of course, is starting to gather. The Emperor would be dissatisfied to find her not there on time; she has no time to fix her appearance. In light of the slight possibility of shaming their House with her muddled hairstyle or suffering yet another punishment for being even late, she chooses the first option.

The guards let her in without saying a word. YNr watches as the shield slides open, revealing a full hall. Rows and rows of tables, filled with foods one would imagine never would have made their way to the Giedi Prime, and laughter not so usual for a harsh realm.

''Princess...'' the servant starts, announcing her arrival, but she shushes him with a slight wave of her palm. She does not notice the crimson liquid staining it.

The Other makes her way to her seat calmly, careless of the way people around her stumble and twist their faces in shock. The only eyes that watch her without fear at the Emperor's table are those of Lady Echidna. Her face betrays no emotion at all—hidden by her veiled black cloth, it only slightly moves when the YN passes her seat.

She holds the angry gaze of the Emperor calmly. He will demand an answer, of course if Irulan has not whispered the truth into his aged ears already. Her sister probably would do no such thing; in that, she would admit to disobeying the orders bestowed upon her. YN is puzzled at the attention directed towards her humble figure—the first thing a Bene Gessarite in training learns is not to be repulsed by the anatomy of her body. Why be grossed out by the liquid coursing through her veins—the liquid she carries all her life? Why be scared of death, when it is always at your doorstep? In the sway of her thoughts, the Other also seems not to perceive the pair of icy blue eyes glued to her figure as she finds her seat and takes her place.

-

"The boy follows you around like a dog." The mother's tone stands not in judgment but rather simply states the truth.

Lady Echidna is not veiled now; her heavy hair is still tightly braided out of her face. Just a small black ribbon highlights her status as one of the Emperor's senior concubines, a position most would bear with honour. To her, it was yet another stain on her earthly body—the body she could not call her to possess. The black sun of Giedi Prime is finally long behind them; nothing but a few light orbs floating around illuminate the chamber, yet her intense gaze seems to pierce right through the girl that sits across her.

"I know, mother. His steps are heavy; his thoughts are even heavier; they follow me much more often."

The woman's fingers stop working on an intricate needlework for a moment, before continuing as it was. "You are to call me Sister, girl," she speaks, her voice low.

YN drags her teeth across her tongue, feeling the anger flow through the veins in her body. She wishes to be far away from this small chamber, to run and never face the woman's eyes again. "The girl has a name, Sister. Or do you fear to voice it?"

Lady Echidna places the cloth on the table beside her gracefully, as if paying no attention to the words spoken. But YN can sense can feel the resentment that burns inside her mother's stomach, spreading its molecules to her throat. "A name holds meaning; for a person to have a name, one must first be of character and substance. You are none."

YN bit the soft flesh inside her mouth; it tasted bitter. It was better if her mother shouted, if she hit her if she did anything to prove YN is still here in her eyes, that she was not just a void the woman spoke her riddles into. Maybe then the pain inside her would have a meaning, would have a reason better than just childish hurt. "Did I not have a beating heart when I left your womb, Sister? Did you not hear it loud and clear? What kind of proof is needed more of me?"

"My daughter died that day, screaming. You took her place. So do not bother me with your foolish talks anymore, for we both know they just waste the air we breathe. Am I heard?"

She was. The tears dried on YN's face before having the chance to spill, and she turned to her studies. Once more, a feeling of ever-lasting cold surrounded her shoulders. The never-leaving vision in her mind appeared once again—her mother's quick steps as she walked away in another corridor of Giedi Prime's fort, her head straight ahead as YN pleaded not to leave her alone, her legs glued to the command spoken. It was a blessing that the boy found her earlier than his uncle.

-

Time has passed since the first time YN's eyes saw the black sun of the foreign planet so far from hers. The Other trained, restlessly, in the tongues of ancient warriors and the most prominent whisperers, slowly earning the right to bear Knowledge in her crown-empty head. She had much yet to learn, but the prospect did not frighten her; with every passing day, she felt power building in her hands and soul. Patience, the greatest virtue of all. She was alone now, without her half of a sister; alone, in her solitude, the heavy bearings seemed not as heavy—she had no one to enlighten about her battles. Still, God was on her mind; YN felt her presence near, her watchful eyes guiding her. Like the tight, dampened cloth on her bruised knuckles, her sister was stuck to her open wound of a soul.

Irulan has grown. Her complexion changed; she no longer looked like a bright-faced girl who left her sister alone in Harkonnen's library; the plump cheeks were gone, and so was fear. At the Other stared a sole statue of power she bloomed into. Silver collars, light blue waves of fabric—the cut is, as always, straight. The Other eyed her up and down, taking in each detail of the painting-like sight. Irulan did the same—a slight disgust at the Other's simple tunic and pants, creased from the sparring. Irulan did not need to be broken in order to be a Sister in the Bene Gesserit; they wanted her Corrino first, and a servant second. The Other, however, held no such value—a child carried not by the lawful wife, a second, a spare. So, there would be no bone in her body left untouched by the lessons, no string in her soul unharmed by the knowledge. They crushed her cartilage in grey sand and forced her to swallow the bitter truths of their ways. Yet, God remains undisturbed—stoic. Eternal.

''Will you not eat again?'' Irulan musses, putting another piece of dish in her mouth.

The Other would take it as a cruel joke from anyone else, but not from God. She shakes her head instead. ''I am forbidden.''

Irulan hums. It was not the first time YN would be disciplined this way; the cycle of punishment and forgiveness was all too familiar to her. The room is silent; there is no one but the two of them. She could offer to eat, and no one would know she did, but Irulan won't offer. The Other does not expect her to; pity is not something a sister can possess.

''How are your lessons going? A fresh knowledge, perhaps?''

YN nods. If she opens her mouth now, her voice will betray her. She could cry all she wanted in the presence of a sister, but it is not appropriate for a thirteen-year-old to behave this way in front of God. The Other is reminded of that with an absence of bruises on Irulan's skin; her hands were never cut by the sharp blades, and her mouth was never starved. ''Why was I summoned from training?'' She asked, directing her eyes to the figure in front of her.

''I am here as a messenger from the Emperor.''

YN's eyes narrowed. ''And what does our dear Emperor desire to tell me now?'' She wishes not to hear anything he has to say; the Other is perfectly content here, amongst her Sisters. Here, she is of cost.

''Recently, Baron Vladimir turned to our House for guidance. He and na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen felt misled by the House Artreidis, and their promise of a bride that did not come. Our father has graciously offered to negotiate the conflict and pay the needed price for the Baron's cooperation.''

''Of course, he did. With all of our might, we are still afraid of the savages that made Arrakis their home. With what advice, may I ask, did the Emperor provide the Baron?''

Irulan's lips turn into a straight line, with the small wrinkle on her forehead appearing. Something that she carried with her through childhood. Something that still reminded of home. ''With the proposal of a woman of our House to na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.''

''A gift? Irulan, I am so sorry.''

Sure, the bridge between them was long forgotten, growing with tall grass and wildflowers, but the weight of their shared history still lingered in the air. Irulan was still her sister, no matter how many times the Other tried to tell herself otherwise. And no woman sane would consider giving her sister to the inhumane brutes that were Harkonnens—the people even Bene Gessarit wished to observe from afar; the people so ruthless mothers told stories about them to their small offspring in an attempt to instil fear and obedience.

Irulan does not answer. She hides her gaze, her eyes following the wooden panels of the quarters.

''What is it, sister?  Speak .''

''The offer Emperor found the most fitting would be of your hand, not mine.''

The Other exhales. As if a heavy stone were put on her chest, she fights to bring much-needed oxygen to her bloodstream. She almost feels the erythrocytes scatter from her face into her neck, hidden by the cloth, and gather there in an attempt to regrow their might. Her throat twists and closes, its muscles compressing until not even an ounce of air can get in. All of her organs, from heart to stomach, made their presence known; one by one, they tensed and burned, forcing the otherwise relaxed hands to grip them.

It was supposed to be Irulan. The first one to marry is the oldest sister; the title high enough to satisfy the ambitious Harkonnes would be hers, no less. Yet, here she stands, not even looking at the one taking her place as she sentences her to an ultimate death. No matter how much power the Corrino name held, on Giedi Prime, she would consider herself fortunate enough if she were to meet her end quickly.

''Why, Irulan? Have I not been a loyal servant to you all those years? Have I not followed every order without question? ''

Irulan is unmoved in her position. ''We can not risk the Harkonnen blood getting on the throne, you know it.''

''You mean we can not risk you? We are not eight anymore, dear Irulan; you can speak truthfully now. Do you really think the Emperor will treasure you more if you say nothing now? We are no sons, Irulan; we are sisters, you and I. Please, spare me this fate.''

''Yes,'' the girl lifts her eyes, taking a step closer. ''We are no sons; you knew that one day we would marry for the peace of the Imperium. Why do you shout now?''

''Married, yes, but not murdered for the sake of the fucking old man who could not hold his promise. They are monsters, Irulan, spilling innocent blood for the fun of it. I beg of you, sister, show me the mercy I know you are capable of.''

''You are worried about blood? What could one more splash of blood mean to you? You have been no sister for a long time; I order you, as an heir of the Emperor and as the messenger of his will here, to comply. Do not make it harder than it has to be.''

The Other smiled—she would not grant the pleasure of tears. ''Very well, then. Someone needs to go first. I'll go; I'll be first, at least here. Tell the Emperor that I will comply with any of his wishes, whether it be to throw me to the sharks or to feed me to the sandworms. As a confirmation of my undying loyalty, you may show him this:''

She slaps her. She slaps her not like a warrior, not like the trained assassin she was raised to be; she slaps her like a sister, bitterly, harshly. For the first time in her short life, YN raises a hand on something she deems holy—the God's shocked face brings a sense of satisfaction to the Other's veins, even if the same blood courses through them. She turns on her heels and walks away, leaving the forsaken room behind. Leaving God behind.

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The sound of the waves collide // Part Three

Now we are getting somewhere... smutty. Given the nature of our favourite Giedi Prime bad boy, you can think of some possible tw.

And now I need to lay back on the couch and listen to NIN "Closer" on repeat...

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FXM

All feedback is welcome <3

Part One // Part Two // Part Four

1.264 words

Reverend Mother summons you. In the grandeur of the Emperor's library, amidst the tranquil silence and the books that whisper of forgotten tales, you stand before her. Kaitain, the residence of the Emperor, has a mild climate and seems comparatively softer than the weather in your Atreides home. It makes me wonder how the harsh surroundings of Giedi Prime affect its people and the ruling House of Corrino. You think this might be the last time you can enjoy your linen gowns, airy and light, with the fabric flowing down to your feet.

„How was your meeting?“ She says while reading a message scroll without looking up. 

"We were officially introduced and I already sense a degree of ownership in him." Lying to her would be futile. 

"And what about your second meeting?" Although her tone remains unchanged, your body stiffens. 

"Unexpected" is all you can muster. Reverend Mother lifts her veil and says, 

„He seems to destabilise you with surprising ease. Remember your mission: you are the one in control, not him. So much hangs in the balance, and you should know the consequences of not following through.“

The remainder of Lady Jessica's insubordination stings, but you bite your tongue. 

"I heard that Na Baron takes great pride in his cobat skills. He should be in the training halls at the moment." With the veil being placed back in front of her face and the sound of the message scroll being closed, you are dismissed. 

Guided by servants, you arrive at the training grounds. Your brother isn't there, having skipped his routine to spend time with his wife after their wedding. A few servants stay on the perimeter, while Gurney and a couple of other familiar faces of the Atreides guard are visible in the ring. The Na Baron is in the middle of his training with other Harkonnens and doesn’t realize he is being watched. You appreciate the unobstructed view. Sweat is running down his chest, along his abs, into the waistband of his trousers. His skin seems to be made of porcelain, yet he is as flexible as a clear mountain spring, a stream of energy moving through him, a testament to his relentlessness.

Gurney notices you and you signal your desire with a small gesture of your hand to challenge him. Gurney raises an eyebrow but is too intrigued to decline. 

He approaches Feyd Rautha with confidence. 

"Your skills are well-known. Would you indulge in a sparring session? I believe we are a match for each other." 

The Na-Baron agrees. "With pleasure. It has been a while since I had such a formidable opponent as yourself.“ 

Their shields snap back into place, veiling them both in a slightly blue shimmer.

Although their combat is just training, both are instantly focused. With power and grace, they exchange knife jabs, and suddenly, with a swift motion, Gurney lands Na Baron on his back. Feyd retaliates with a knock of his head and now both are on the ground, interlocked but not willing to give up. Your eyes are on Feyds smooth, powerful movements. The thought of his grace extending beyond the realm of physical combat sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within that you struggle to contain.

The sound of your clapping makes them both raise their heads towards you. 

„You are both well-seasoned warriors!“ you say, gathering the attention of the men. Feyd Rautha's gaze is filled with a mix that begins to seem familiar: adrenaline, lust, and something else that one could describe as malice. Both get up and bow their heads. 

„Do you enjoy the view?" he asks. 

"I certainly did," In reaction to your praise he raises the blade to his tongue and flicks it along the tip. Without further interaction, you turn away, leaving him panting and wanting more of you. 

You are on the way back to guest wing, seeking company of your parents. With only a few hours left together, you want to use all the remaining time to speak, to listen, and to keep your betrothed waiting. 

You are seated next to Paul and Irulan at dinner and their happiness serves as a calming ray of light in the mix of your emotions. Having changed into a dark green halter neck gown you feel like a shadow next to the happy couple. Seeing them like this strengthens your resolve to adhere to the plan and keep your desire for Feyd under lock and key. When you excuse yourself to retreat for the night's rest, Feyd Rautha appears suddenly next to you. 

„I would be honoured to escort you, Princess.“ His voice seems to conceal a sardonic, dark energy beneath a veneer of politeness.

Your parents do not object, so you take his arm and leave the crowded room. Not even five minutes later, he leads you down a different corridor, one that does not lead to your quarters. As you try to object, your back is against the wall, his knees nudging your thighs apart, and his mouth is claiming yours. You feel the impact of his methodical and measured actions instantly. It appears something is simmering within him, waiting to break the surface. After what feels like an eternity, he releases your lips and gazes down at you with his stunning blue eyes. Your urge to kiss him back instantly almost overpowers you, the embers of carnal desire taking up more and more space within you.

Your hands reach out to his torso, feeling his muscles through the leather vest.He responds by closing his eyes and almost hissing. His lips descend on your neck like a hawk, his tongue dancing around the halter of your dress. The light material that was so comfortable only minutes earlier now irritates you. You want to be rid of it, rid of his attire and feel his skin against yours. Before you know it, you are facing the wall, feeling his body pressed against yours, his arousal evident. You are so close to giving in and then he makes a mistake.

„You will be a most exquisite addition to my collection, pet“ is objectifying and disrespectful.

 An instant wave of humiliation and anger washes over you. 

„Let me go!“ you growl, your voice full of indignation. 

'Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like it, yet again’“ He clearly toys with you. 

„Let me go“

He releases you instantly and you almost fall. In his eyes, you see the confusion everyone experiences when being subjected to the voice for the first time. 

„You are using your witch powers on me?“

 „How dare you mix me up with your so-called pets? I am a Princess of the House Atreides . If you even think of enjoying your pets and then laying your hands on me, you are mistaken!“ 

He doesn’t move but looks at you menacing, a vicious predator coming to the surface. 

"Is the Princess jealous now?" 

You stare at him angrily in return. The embers of desire are turned into a white glow of fury now.

 „I will return to my quarters alone.“

Without a word, he seems to turn around, then thinks better of it and presses you against the wall again. This time, his hand reaches right for your core, and the humiliation of being soaking wet is written on your face. His fingers circle your clit, making you whimper and as they crawl closer to your entrance, he abruptly stops. He seems to enjoy himself, sucking his fingers clean. As his steps disappear into the distance, you compose yourself and make your way. 

[controld3vil]

popcorn bucket

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (ALL platonic) synopsis: dune dune DUNE. thats it. notes: this completely out of genre for me but i genuinely really like these actor!reader fics !! they're soooo good. and the reader is intended to be gender neutral :D OH and no beta read..

"Maude, a.k.a Maude'Dib for Nerdist!" There was a laugh coming from Rebecca Ferguson as you situated yourself next to her. "Hi! How are you guys?" The blonde woman who supposedly to be your interviewer, Maude Garrett, warmly welcomes the two of you with friendly gestures. "This is my first one of these,"

"This is my second actually," you recuperate back a loveable grin, scouting your back towards the chair. "For you... I'd imagine," then cast a glance to your seatmate, for her response.

"I've been doing them but this is my first." As Rebecca situates herself, holding her phone in one hand, and you, patting any creases found on your trousers. "I'm- I'm down to it - I'm googling..."

A short pause but no matter, as you leaned towards Rebecca's screen and read it out loud. "Dune's Popcorn Bucket,"

"Yeah I don't understand, what's happening?" she shifts the screen for you to have a better look before looking up at the interviewer in pure confusion and bizarreness. You knock your head sideways, trying to discern the confusing photo. A small pout forms on your lips as your brain toggles what exactly you're looking at.

"Oh, you don't know about the AMC popcorn bucket?!" The kind woman exasperates, eyes widening in pure surprise.

Not a second later, your eyes look up at the revelation. "Oh, I see it now!"

Rebecca lifts up her phone and presents what the two of you are looking at. "I'm seeing something but I'm not sure what's going on? What it is?" She still didn't understand what it was and you swirled your hips towards her in a swooshing motion.

"You're supposed to put your hand in there and eat the popcorn," Pivoting your head a little, a grimaced look is plastered on your face. "It's the worm!" The camera zooms into your disturbed expression and then cuts to the Garrett looking straight at them, giving a moment for the audience to register what had happened.

Your costar turns to you and her expression quickly switches to a mischievous one. "Oh." Your strained childish smile almost falters as you try to hold your laugh in.

A few significant chuckles from the blonde interviewee while Rebecca looks back and forth from the film crew to you, her, and the camera. "I don't think they had an intern that had a, you know, "different mindset"."

"How uhm,"

"Interesting!

"Sensual!" A short muffled laugh escapes your laugh coming off as a snort as you instinctively cover your mouth out of embarrassment. Rebecca's word of choice definitely caught you off guard which caused some ruckus behind the camera as well.

"How sensual! That's the perfect word for it," The camera pans towards your red puffed cheeks, looking forward nodding alongside the interviewee who is taking the conversation so charismatically well.

"Yes! Yes!"

"You could say you have to ride the sandworm to earn your spots," Garrett teasingly says while Rebecca and you nod in agreement.

"Well look at that. That's what happened back in the days of MGM, but thankfully we've moved on," she replies tiddling with the toothpick in her mouth as you held your breath for a second. A delayed puff comes from Garrett, looking at the actress beside you in shock.

To say the three of you had a blast through the next hour of the interview.

In another interview, you were paired up with Josh Brolin who had played Gurney Halleck. In respect of your character, his pupil, you couldn't help but feel excited because in very few instances had they given you the chance to be in an interview with him.

Lainey Lui who was eager to talk the both of you, sat across from you both in front of a majestic poster of the project. The title, Dune Part Two was shown in its iconic font. The background was a still of one of the sets used in the film which displayed muted colors and curves.

The woman briefly introduced herself and you did the same. Spotting Brolin, you give a small wave before taking the seat beside him where he earnestly wraps his arm around your back. In full comfort and level of readiness, you felt the tiny jitters fly away.

"It's nice to see you two! So what about introducing Gurney and being able to reunite with someone that means so much to him?"

With a variety of cast members, the film was expansive to bring its sets to life. You felt it on day one of filming the first Dune movie. Yet you become more determined to do more when the production of the second film comes. It was phenomenal teamwork, from the film and cast crew. People in wardrobe and makeup were dedicated to making the costumes feel authentic and lived in. The works of Denise Villeneuve is something you've been fascinated with for a while, dating back to his early works.

It all comes back circle to Josh Brolin, remembrance in all of the heartfelt scenes he had done with Timothee of Gurney's and Paul's reunion. He reminds the interviewee that Paul's relationship with him is strong and familial. And that initially the scene was improvised due to their filming schedule.

"He really is like an anchor for him." "Yeah because for the past nine months, he's been spiraling and lost his family." Brolin nods in agreement, making an analogy with his fingers swirling down in a circle. You couldn't help but feel captivated about what they said, placing an elbow on your knee to better listen.

"And- This means no offense to your character!" Lui, the interviewer almost frantically calls out, moving the attention to you. And suddenly you wake from your trance of listening to being pulled back to their conversation.

"Oh no no! Not at all!" As you try to sweep the worry off, waving your hands in a panic.

A soft chuckle erupts from Brolin, seeing how almost innocently you want to pay no heed to the attention. "Of course, Gurney's moment with Paul could never amount to his and Nerre's- I mean I think their relationship really evolved in this movie than the last one," He sarcastically dismissed, crossing his arms while you dramatically gape at your co-star.

"Of course it did! What are you tryna to say, Brolin?" You leaned forward in your chair towards his direction almost like a child would when wanting to make a point.

"Come on, I hope you're not choosing favorites between your family," The interviewee cutely teases, giving a smile.

"I just think- You know for not having to see him for so long, you could've," It was a tiny joke you and the cast had made before while filming the exact scene he had discussed. In a similar scene to where Paul reunites with Gurney, he reunites with Nerre, your character, his pupil, and has been a father figure too. Shoots were slightly rocking as your reaction to seeing Gurney for the first time on the scene didn't go as satisfactory as Denise Villeneuve had intended. Instead, the two of you (and very much of the crew) couldn't stop giggling at your attempted sad faces. Nerre in the final cut, when meeting Gurney becomes teary-eyed and ultimately cries in his arms. While in actuality, you couldn't take it seriously enough to go rushing to give Brolin a hug. "Put much more of an effort to look happy?"

"That!" You wave an X with both arms, embarrassed how your own co-star would drag you out like this. "I say was very much my fault but we got the take in the end!"

"Sure we did," The older actor aimlessly nods, not once believing your words, having the biggest grin on his face. Evidently, the interview goes smoothly with occasional hits and jabs between the both of you regarding your performance. And sooner it comes full circle back to you and the dynamic of Gurney and Nerre.

"As you've said earlier," your head snaps back to the male actor poignantly, as if mocking, "I don't think Gurney and Paul's relationship would deter anything with Nerre. They're very tight-knitted because we are all family essentially," You spread your hands out as if mimicking a large circle, "I know a lot of people wanted to see Gurney and Nerre's growth and I'm glad we got to see that. But it's essentially Paul that we're seeing spiral toward madness. So it makes sense to see him meeting Gurney more meaningful."

"Yes, it really shows the stakes they all have to deal with!"

"Exactly, my point!" One last look from Brolin as he makes eye contact with you before raising his hand for a high five. Were you now going to compete for Josh Brolin's favoritism against Timothee without his acknowledgment? Of course, you are.

Out in the deserts of Abu Dhabi, the vast bodies of sand were infinite. Much of the crew delivered and prepared props, and essential needs as their number one priority. In it's hot weather and shivering nights, the film production didn't discover much disturbance from the weather. It was rather quite pleasant under it's wake luckily. Some crew were happily taking pictures and filming some of the crew walking around to promote their upcoming project.

"This costume rocks!" You jump off from a small rock platform into the frame of the vertical camera focus and give two thumbs up. You then waved towards the cameraman with an enthusiastic smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning!" Rebecca Ferguson's shout can be heard on the other side of the set as the view pivots towards her in full costume of robes and blue tattoos. "Another day of shooting!"

Day in and out, the production in Abu Dhabi was fun for you. It wasn't much of a nuisance you had feared due to the sand and hot weather but surprisingly pleasant with the luminescent scenery always present behind every camera view.

In another clip, it's shown in the grand hall at the climax of the movie. Where the massive amount of extras were standing, circling the space in the middle for the camera crew to shoot. Timothee was off in the background, practicing his moves with Austin Butler who supposedly would have a spontaneous battle against each other. On the side, you were happily chatting with Florence Pugh in her exquisite attire as Princess Irulan and Christopher Walken were only a few steps behind. You looked beyond curious and happy. A cute short was captured of you trying to poke the small blades on Florence's costume.

The camera expands to reveal all of the other cast such as Zendaya and Rebecca and Javier Bardem chatting. And Denise Villeneuve improvising a scene with Josh Brolin.

Lastly an endearing story comes from your story of Zendaya dragging you with water as you try your best to stand on your feet. You forget who had your phone (Was it Timothee? Or Josh Brolin?) but they were behind the camera, following you around as you struggled to walk to the table full of water cauldrons.

Zendaya was by your side, having a hand on your back, says, "Come on, you can do it!" An determined yelp for your name and you childishly groan.

"I feel like my legs are gonna fall off!"

"You should've taken more water with you kid!" It was Brolin's voice from the far right which confirms Timothee was the one behind the camera. The set production was a few feet, resulting in why cast members always to bring water. Yet from an odd perspective, you had tired yourself out too much. It was as if you had just run a ten-meter run.

Though it felt a marathon, you were doing fall stunts constantly up and down the hills of sand. And to say you were exhausted was an understatement. A chuckle erupts and the air feels lighter when Javier Bardem arrives into frame, seeing your poor state.

"Drink some more water!"

As your next story slides to you chugging down a full hydro flask of water like an animal thirsting for air. Your female costar beside you looked at you in horror, almost terrified of stopping you.

"Hey slow down!"

This wasn't the final moment of your press for the film. However, it was the most captivating and relishing one. In the room full of your favorite people and an interviewee dedicated to the works of Dune, Naz Perez, you all delved into the complex characters you all portrayed onscreen and discussed the juggling topics of characters, love, and how to ride a sandworm.

One by one, the woman pointed out interesting questions for all of your cast to expand upon and you couldn't help but be pulled into a trance to what everyone said. From the dynamics of the new characters beginnings to the interior struggles they had, the room felt revelating of the dedicated work of Denise Villeneueve.

Until Perez perfectly transitions her attention to you after listening to Austin Butler's performance. "Speaking of elevating performances," A few of the people on the couch cooed and awed as you bashfully clamped your hands together in an innocent manner. Your name is spoken out. "Nerre's transformation in Part Two is really eye-opening. For someone who had started out as a young, skilled, and playful warrior to a more serious and revengeful one, how do you think they helped Nerre evolve as a person?"

"I've wanted to point this out before, yeah Nerre kind of starts out a free-willed comedic character," You nod trying to find the right words to describe your interpretation of your character. "But then after "losing" Gurney and being separated from everyone, they could only look forward towards the perpetrators which were the Harkonnen. And for that, they're consumed with the idea of revenge, taking back what was once theirs, their home. You see this when Paul or the other Fremen question their motives because that's a dark path to go by," Each person you mentioned turn their heads to listen to your words carefully, knowing how dedicated you were to the film.

"Right, and for better and or for worse, they have matured. They're being front about the decisions being made, and what's happening in Arrakis, so tell me the conflicts they must've had to deal with others."

"Mmm I would say a lot of their internal turmoil " You were hesitant to say if it was going to spoiler territory. But glancing towards everyone, made you feel assured you were doing fine. "Is always guarded against others. But upon the last film, I believe the revelation of the destruction of House Atreides opened their eyes to first found war. And it terrifies them you know, you have to put in perspective they were young teenagers. So seeing that and then meeting these new characters who are vastly different and want for change, motivates them to induce war. So it brings conflict to almost everyone because war will attract more chaos." You attempt to piece together your last remaining sentences, looking up and down at the interviewer.

"No words can be better said," Perez dazedly comments, placing a hand over her heart you flaunt lovingly. "Reminds me of a certain psycho."

"Right! You know Feyd-Rautha and Nerre could've been besties!" You snapped your fingers which made both Zendaya and Florence burst out laughing. While Austin stares at you smiling, nodding in agreement.

[romikuromi]

The more I delve into the universe created by Frank Herbert, the more shocked and surprise I become as things unveil like a knot in a rope. It looks simple, it looks like any child’s play but only if you understand which side to pull first to loosen it all together. I have honestly never been into something this deep like I am for Dune. Both the movies and the books reveal something so poignant that you can’t compare which one is better. The book Chani is nothing but a simple love interest that was created by Paul when he revealed he saw them being married and having kids. It was forced, book Chani had no character revelation instead of being a colonial fremen controlled by a freak created by a Bene Gesserit. But the movie Chani unveils its own narrative of how she chose Paul as a love interest even though he was the son of a Duke. Chani respected Paul as he was doing everything to be a part of the people where men and women are both equal. The equality that Paul chose to become a part of the Fremen made Chani fall for him out of respect and devotion. Everything makes sense but at the same time it doesn’t because as time will pass, upcoming parts of Dune will unveil a new story line and I’m honestly excited to see how they will now portray the characters of women whether it be of princess Irulan, Lady Jessica or Chani herself. The entire movie of Dune: Part 1 revolves around the narration of how Chani is a fedaykin surviving and serving for the people of Arrakis, were as Dune: Part 2 revolves around the importance of the desert spring, that how her tear drop with the water of life gives birth to the true messiah, Lisan Al-Gaib and the death of Paul Usul muad’dib Atreides, the outsider with whom she fell in love with.

[pinkinku]

He's Psychotic | Feyd-Rautha

fandom: Dune: Part Two (2024)

pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x irulan corrino

description: He’s psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. And she was about to marry him.

word count: 4k

warnings!: smut, wedding night, loss of virginity, rough sex, knifeplay 🔪, bloodplay🩸, where's my wife?, who did this to you?, concubines, blood and injury, praise kink, marriage.

He was psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. An animal, a beast, a sort of soulless creature no living woman could bear to stand.

And Irulan was about to marry him.

This wasn’t the plan, of course. She was supposed to marry Paul Atreides, Duke of Arrakis, but fate had different plans. Her fate took an unexpected turn the moment Paul’s lifeless body fell to the floor, with his enemy’s blade deep in his guts. In that moment, Feyd-Rotha’s black eyes bore into her and the smile of his was just as black.

Her father said, “You’ve won. What would you like in return for this victory?”

She shuddered, unable to take her eyes off the man before her as he walked back to Paul’s body, ripped out the blade from it and pointed the sharp tip towards her, the blood still dripping from it—drip, drip, drip.

“Had the Duke won, he would’ve gotten the princess. Now, as the victor, I have the right to her. I want your daughter.”

Her father didn’t oppose. Perhaps he wanted to but had nothing else to offer. Alas, Irulan was the thing he could give, in his mind, he had already given her up to Paul Atreides.

And so, three days later, she was dressed in traditional bridal garments: the ivory dress of the finest silk, a modest scoop neckline adorned with beading, with long fitted sleeves cascading down her arms with sheer panels, the skirt flowing out from the waist in a graceful line. To finish off, she wore a dramatic veil that framed her entire form and was held up by an ornate headpiece.

She was to be sacrificed to a demon.

Irulan walked down the isle, surrounded by a flood of the same harkonnean faces, all of them bald and pale and muscular, neither of them familiar, only one, at the very end, waiting for her, watching her every step, even the slightest movement of flesh underneath her garments – Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her were like a hawk’s. She shuddered.

The road to her future husband in this hall at Giedi Prime. She walked, and walked, alone and exposed, and it seemed that the distance between him and her remained the same. But no, she was getting closer, because now she could see him better. His robes were of tight shiny leather with silver lining, they clung to his body like a glove. He stood tall and regal, a neutral expression on his face. Except for his eyes, of course. He held his hands in front of himself as if he was imprisoning his own body in one spot, as if he was trying to stop himself from eating away at the distance between them himself, as if he had to keep his hands from reaching out for her.

Irulan finally stood in front of him and, while the Reverend Mother spoke words of matrimony she couldn’t understand (she could understand the language, undoubtedly, only in that moment she wasn’t capable of understanding the meaning behind them), she watched Feyd-Rautha in all his glory. His dark gaze demanded attention. The only comfort was the veil that covered her face from him.

Sometime in the middle of the ceremony, Irulan heard a strange hissing sound. She turned her head very slightly to see three women standing behind her soon-to-be husband. All three of them looked the same—bald heads, black eyes, blackened teeth and pure hatred, addressed to her—different only in height. It took a few moments for Irulan’s frightened mind to realize that these were Feyd-Rautha’s concubines who were hissing at her. No one else, besides Irulan, paid them any attention, so she learned to ignore the hissing too.

However, Irulan was so focused on the concubines, she didn’t understand that the Reverend Mother spoke the last words of the matrimonial ceremony until Feyd-Rautha lifted his hands and unveiled her. She flinched, caught off guard, feeling small and vulnerable before him. His face moved closer to hers very slowly, as if he didn’t want to frighten her. The initial moment of his kiss felt like a butterfly’s touch to her lips—soft, tender, barely there. When her mouth opened to him in surprise, he explored it with his tongue, and the kiss soon turned passionate, wild all-consuming. It lasted far longer than a dutiful wedding kiss should’ve lasted and it left Irulan breathless once it ended.

She stared at his lips, now red from the kiss, even more so in contrast with his paper-white skin. His breathing was just as heavy as hers, their chests heaving in tandem, but he soon regained his wits, reaching out his hand for her, which she wasn’t cautious enough not to take.

He started walking her out of the hall and down the dark empty corridors, leaving the Harkonnens and the rest of Giedi Prime behind them. He led her to a spacious minimally furnished room but she could tell every single item there must’ve cost a fortune.

Feyd-Rautha let go of her hand only when she was standing in front of a canopy bed. Then he disappeared from her sight, and she was too nervous to turn around. He’s psychotic, she had to remind herself. One wrong move and he might attack like an animal.

She felt her headpiece being lifted from her head together with the veil. She saw his pale hands put it aside carefully. She turned her head slightly only to see he had taken off his top garments, and she saw his naked chest, tattooed with thick black lines. He watched her face as she peered into his nether region, then grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him.

“Are you scared of me, princess?” he asked.

Irulan looked into his eyes, searching for madness there, or for empathy. She found neither.

Swallowing thickly, she held his gaze.

“No.”

She couldn’t let him know how frightened she truly was.

Feyd-Rautha’s and moved to the back of his bottoms and he took out a knife, ornate and beautiful, like a piece of art. Irulan’s eyes widened in fear, her body shivered violently outside of her control. Her reaction put a smile on his face. As Feyd-Rautha moved his knife to the fabric of her dress, she closed her eyes, daring herself to get through whatever pain he was about to inflict on her. Most importantly, she couldn’t show panic.

She scrunched her nose, waiting to get stabbed, waiting for the blade to pierce her skin, then dig into her flesh, she waited for him to draw her blood, make her scream—until she heard fabric ripping in half. Irulan opened her eyes, drawing in a lungful of air like a man lost in dessert, breathing in oxygen for the first time. she felt the dress fall of her body before she saw her own nakedness, blushing from shame. She noticed Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her even if she didn’t see him, she felt his hot breath on her exposed skin. Her nerves were akin to violin strings—tout and resonant—as he stood behind her like a looming threat.

As Irulan tried to calm her respiration, Feyd-Rautha’s fingers dug into her scalp, kneading at her hair and messing up the fancy braids that formed a bun, until her hair was freed, falling down her back in waves. She felt his fingers brush through her locks—once, twice—and then, to Irulan’s grave horror, he brought the knife to her neck, his other arm holding her down by her waist, pulling her bottom into his groin. She gasped at the cold sharp blade on her delicate skin there.

“Still not scared, princess?” he spoke lavishly into her ear.

This was a trick. He wanted a reaction out of her. But he wasn’t going to truly hurt her, otherwise he would’ve done so already. She wouldn’t let him trick her.

“No,” she repeated, although a slight tremor in her voice betrayed the truth.

He pulled the blade away from her, grabbing her by the throat with his other hand. His lips touched her jaw tenderly and she closed her eyes at the feeling.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

His hands guided her to get on the bed, slowly and barely pushing her as she complied. She lied on the bed on her back, feeling her hair fall around her like the sun. Feyd-Rautha’s widened eyes roamed over her body possessively, taking their time to appreciate the curve of her neck, her shoulders, her round breasts, her flat belly, until they landed on her apex. His gaze was hungry, wild, untamed, which she took as a compliment.

Still holding the knife in one hand, he unbuttoned his bottoms with the other and took them off. His cock caught Irulan’s attention immediately—long, thick, and veiny, monstrous just like its’ owner. Seeing where her gaze had landed, Feyd-Rautha smirked, kneeling on the bed as she moved away to give him space, but he grabbed her thighs, pulling her close. He spread her thighs, putting her ankles onto his shoulders, his black gaze boring into her sex. His lips parted as if he was trying to imagine how she would taste down there.

Irulan was hot, so very hot, and the way he stared at her, the way he handled her body was of no help at all.

It was the moment his fingers touched her burning center that she realized how sensitive and wet she truly was. Feyd-Rautha hissed, realizing that very same thing. He began playing with her flesh as if he was a boy with a toy, and she heart the sounds of her own sex dripping and parting for him whichever way he wished.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, making her even wetter. This was affecting him too, it appeared—his cock was so hard and aching it was slowly turning red.

But of course, he couldn’t leave his knife behind. As he brought the knife closer to her core, Irulan panicked, kicking at him and trying to get away, but his grip on her thigh was like vice, she couldn’t move.

“Shhh,” he said, caressing her thigh. “There’ll be nothing but pleasure, wife.”

Irulan was certain that his definition of pleasure differed from hers, so she kept squirming. Only slightly annoyed, Feyd-Rautha gripped his knife tightly by the blade and pushed the handle past her nether lips.

Irulan released a prolonged moan when his thumb found her clitoris and began rubbing circles while simulteneously thrusting the handle of his knife in and out of her.

“That’s it, wife,” he groaned, watching the way her face furrowed in pleasure. “Take my knife like a good girl.”

And she did. His moves grew aggressive, but even the sight of his blood as the sharp blade tore the skin of his palm where he gripped it did not deter her—she was too focused moving her hips in tandem with his thrusts, chasing her pleasure.

Only when she was at the precipice of her own release did he stop abruptly, pulling out the knife out of her and throwing it on the ground. Irulan was irrationally angry and disappointed, but that feeling soon ceased as Feyd-Rautha fondled her body, mostly her breasts and bottom, with his hands, leaving a bloody trail wherever he touched her.

Once finished, he began stroking his now-turned-blue cock, watching her soiled body as a mesmerizing painting. He then lined the head of his cock with her entrance and she tensed without meaning to. He put only the tip in, but Irulan tensed furthermore. He towered over her with his entire body, but not threateningly, it was more like a promise to keep her safe. Feyd-Rautha caressed her cheek, pushing in more, and she hissed from the pain that not even his tender movements helped soothe.

He was patient with her that night, but he wasn’t that patient, so after a few minutes of trying to slowly push into her, Feyd-Rautha thrust all of himself into her while kissing her at the same time, catching the pained scream that tore out of her with his mouth. He kept kissing her and moving inside of her until he was sure she wasn’t going to scream and that the pain eased a little. He pulled away slightly just to watch her breasts move at the rhythm his hips had set.

“Such a good wife I have,” he praised. “Taking me so well.” Irulan whimpered when the pain in her lower abdomen was slowly replaced with pleasure. “That’s it,” he said, moving his face closer to hers. “I want you to look at me as you come on my cock, princess.”

She did.

Irulan woke up. Her body ached and she felt disoriented, reaching out for the warm body that kept her close the whole night. She found the other side of the bed empty.

She washed off the blood from her thighs—her blood—and his blood from all the other places. It was foolish of her to expect Feyd-Rautha to stay until morning as a loving husband, but the abandonment still hurt.

She found a dress to put on and then sat down to brush her hair when a knock came.

“Princess Irulan, na-Baron is calling for you,” a servant said.

“Tell him I’m preoccupied with something.”

“I’m afraid this isn’t an offer, princess.”

And so, two minutes later, she was following the servant down the clinically sterile yet dark corridors, until he led her to a door, saying, “Na-Baron is already waiting for her.”

Na-Baron was actually not waiting for her at all, if his physical state was any sign of that. When Irulan got into the room, she found Feyd-Rautha in no need of any more attentions from another woman. He lied sprawled on a divan while his three concubines attended to his needs: two of them were sucking on his cock as if it were a candy while the third one kissed, but and nibbled on the skin of his chest, neck and shoulders. However, his cock, no matter what they did, remained flaccid.

Irulan reddened at the sight but more than anything she was furious. She would’ve turned on her heel and left right then, if Feyd-Rautha hadn’t already caught her with his eyes.

“There you are, wife,” he spoke to her. “After the magical night I spent with you, my concubines seem to be unable to satisfy me properly. I thought it would help the mattes at hand if you joined them. So, princess, care to join?” he motioned at the tow women sucking his cock. None of the three of them paid her any mind but she felt wrath emanating from them all the same.

Irulan didn’t move a single muscle. “I am your wife, not one of your whores, Feyd-Rautha,” she said coldly and tightly.

Feyd-Rautha merely chuckled at her defiance. She stayed in place like a tree grown into the ground, undeterred by his charming laughter.

“Of course not,” he said, still smiling. Then, in a voice that was firm and commanding, “All of you, leave.”

 The concubines obeyed immediately, pulling away from him. The one who had his cock in her mouth took it out with a loud pop. They hissed as they passed her, and Irulan waited from them to leave from out the door, not foolish enough to have her back to them. But, just as she was about to leave, she heard, “Not you, wife. They are only pets. You are not one of them.”

Irulan turned back to him, regaining her composure.

He smirked at her. She noticed his cock was beginning to harden.

He beckoned her closer, “Come.”

She took slow steps toward him as he watched her every move with unblinking eyes. Irulan came to stand in front of him, raising her chin. “What do you want from me, Feyd-Rautha?” she demanded.

His grin only widened. “I want you to satisfy your husband. You didn’t like seeing me with my concubines? Then you do the job. Let me have all of you. Let me ruin you.”

Irulan stared down at him, seemingly unaffected by his words, although her insides were burning. However, he seemed to be seeing right through her. Neither of them said another word, both staring at one another, waiting for who will star first.

Irulan couldn’t handle it any longer, not when his cock was now as hard as ever and her own arousal was practically running down her inner thighs.

She leaned down and lifted her skirt just enough so she could straddle him. She didn’t sit on top of his cock, only the outside of their nether regions was touching. As she wore no undergarments, she could feel that his flesh was hotter than hers, almost feverish.

The smile disappeared from Feyd-Rautha’s face, giving space for a deeply focused expression. She moved her hips to tease his swollen cock and he hissed from the stimulation, grabbing her hips instinctively and hoisted your skirt enough to have her bared for his eyes only.

“Don’t tease me, princess,” he groaned. That was enough for Irulan. She lifted her hips and sank down onto him, eliciting a prolonged moan from the both of them. She was still sore and he was huge, but she soon found a comfortable rhythm that brought waves of pleasure to her core. Feyd-Rautha watched her intensely with his black eyes, but when your thighs began to give out and the strain on your muscles seemed like too much, he took over, thrusting into her from below, grabbing her by the back of her neck to bring her lips to his. He kissed her like a starved man, all the while untwining the braid she had quickly put together before running off to him. When her hair was freed, he sunk his fingers into it—she remembered him giving special attention to her hair last night too. It must’ve been one of the things his concubines couldn’t give him.

Whereas Irulan’s moves were slow and sensual, Feyd-Rautha set a vicious pace, one she couldn’t catch up with, so she let him grab her arms by the wrists and pull them behind her, taking full control of her entire body. She moaned and mewled on top of him, her breathing growing labored. She was on the edge of her climax, but stopped herself from coming, watching as Feyd-Rautha’s expression grew violent as he neared his own end. And just as he was about to come, she told him, “You won’t lie with your concubines anymore. They won’t entertain you and you won’t give them special treatment. If you want release, you will come to me and me only, is that clear, Feyd-Rautha?”

His face twisted from pleasure and Irulan leaned in closer, touching his forehead with her own as he thrust into her the last few times.

“Yes, yes, anything you want, my wife…” he answered breathlessly.

Satisfied with her work yet careful not to show him, Irulan pulled away from him and his cock, standing back up and fixing her skirt. Feyd-Rautha, still heaving, reached out his head as if to touch the fabric of her dress or the ends of her hair, but she had already found her way to the door, leaving him all alone.

As she walked down the dark corridors, Irulan was lost in thoughts of the scene that just passed between them, and so she didn’t notice someone lurking for her in the shadows. Three figures then stood in her way, and even though it was dark, the three concubines of Feyd-Rautha were hard to miss. They were hissing at her, fury evident in their abnormal features as they lunged at her, baring their black teeth. Before Irulan managed to scream or shout for help, one of them forced her mouth shut with her hand, the other grabbed her by the hair and held her hands down, and the third gripped her right hadn’t, exposing her forehearm. Irulan saw the sharp silver blade glinting in the low light. Her eyes widened and she squirmed, trying to free herself, but to no avail.

The concubine brought the blade to Irulan’s veins and spat in her face, “Na-Baron is ours,” before slicing her flesh.

Unimaginable pain reddened Irulans’s vision. She screamed and thrashed until all strength abandoned her, and, sensing that, the concubines released her, letting her fall to the ground. When her head hit the ground, Irulan was drowned in darkness.

Irulan regained consciousness in an unfamiliar room with an never-before-seen face in front her and a dull ache in her arm.

She blinked awake and tried to sit up in bed, but the man before her held her down softly. “Easy, princess. You’re very hurt.”

Irulan then noticed that the man was slicing a needle through her already mutilated flesh. The white thread that sealed her wound contrasted with the red-brown blood. She was sleepy and her mind was working very slowly, but all sleepiness evaded her once she heard a voice outside the room shout, “Where’s my wife!”

No one was there to answer Feyd-Rautha’s command, and they needn’t be—a moment later, he burst through the door like a sandstorm.

His eyes found her lying form immediately as he strode forward until he was right beside her. There was no smile on his face, nothing but ferocious outrage. His black gaze eyed the wound in her arm.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, his voice low with rage.

She scoffed. “I won’t tell you. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Who,” he repeated.

Irulan narrowed her eyes at him. “They must have been listening behind the door as we… spoke.”

That was enough for him. After another moment of intense eyeing, Feyd-Rautha turned around and left. No sooner had the man that must’ve been her healer finished stitching up her wound that her husband was back.

“Come with me,” he said, reaching out his hand for her to take. “It won’t be far.”

She took it, despite how tired she felt.

Feyd-Rautha led her to a room with black walls and floor, and she noticed the three women lined up with their heads bowed low, their white skin glinting in the black darkness like fog. He made Irulan stand in front of them as he took his knife from the table besides and then came back to her.

“Which one of them hurt you?” he asked.

Irulan swallowed. “If I tell you, next time they will surely kill me.”

Without taking his eyes off her, without even moving—Irulan only saw his right hand slice the air swiftly—but it didn’t slice air, it slid the first concubine’s throat. Blood poured from the wound as the woman grasped at her throat in panic, trying to desperately stop the bleeding. She fell to the ground with a thud—the same way Irulan had mere hours ago.

“Was it this one?” Feyd-Rautha asked, never letting his eyes leave her.

Irulan shook her head. “She held my mouth shut.”

The other two bowed their heads even lower, visibly shivering.

The fury that overcame him was more visible by the way his muscles twitched under his skin. The second kill was just as smooth and barely visible, the same scenario repeating itself—Feyd-Rautha sliced the throat of the concubine and she fell dead.

“This one?”

“She grabbed me by my hair,” Irulan said.

He took a step toward the last of his pets, not sparing her a single glance, and the woman fell to her knees before him, “Na-Baron, I did nothing wrong, I’m begging you, she’s lying!”

Feyd-Rautha looked down at his concubine with nothing but wrath in his eyes. Then looked back up at Irulan.

“Did this one draw your blood?”

She swallowed, then nodded, watching with wide eyes as Feyd-Rautha’s blade sank into the left eye of the concubine. She screamed as blood poured from it, trying to stop the flow just like the other two before her. He pulled the blade out and repeated the process on the other eye. Then, more driven by a wish to end this as soon as possible rather than a sentimental feeling of mercy, he slit her throat, ending the third life.

Irulan watched in awe at the three bodies at her feet but Feyd-Rautha’s presence was the only one that demanded attention.

She looked up at him. He stepped closer, taking her face in his palm while the other hand held the bloody knife.

“I promised you, wife,” he said. “Anything you want.”

THE END

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Sunrise in the East

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Fem!Reader ; Hailee Steinfeld x Fem!Reader very briefly at the start.

Summary: Reader is very happy having one-night stands or having friends with benefits, avoiding any serious relationship for a while now. However, things change and she suddenly starts to think that dating wouldn't be all that bad.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so be kind. This is not overly romantic but I do think it represents very well what happens in real life. Also there's some light smut and some very light bdsm (very light).

MASTERLIST

You were still slightly out of breath while you slipped your pants up your legs, the sweat attached to your skin making it a bit harder to do so. Maybe you shouldn’t have chosen such tight jeans to wear that night, but oh well. Leaving the button undone, you turned around to find where your shirt had landed during the haste to get into bed earlier. At least you knew it was inside the room because, more often than not, you would have to walk around the fancy penthouse naked to collect your clothes.

Neither of you was careful with the undressing part.

You found your shirt - the simple black shirt you had slipped on after leaving your house - hanging precariously on the back of the armchair, almost falling behind it, where you probably wouldn’t think about looking before giving up and asking to borrow a shirt from the girl still lying on the bed. You glanced at the naked body barely being covered by the blue sheet while pulling the shirt over your head and grinned a little when you noticed the still red skin where your hands held a hip before. You were undeniably proud of yourself. Shamelessly so too.

Hailee paid you no mind, used by now to have you get up and collect your clothes before either of you could get too comfortable on the large bed, as she propped herself up with one arm to reach out for her phone on the nightstand with the other. Before jumping on the bed with your lips attached to one of her lips, you had asked to use her charger so you wouldn’t have a dead phone while driving back home, so your cell phone was also on the nightstand beside hers.

With one last look at the woman - still feeling so goddamn proud of yourself - you went inside the bathroom to make yourself more presentable to walk out of her apartment. You would have to take the elevator down and walk to your car parked across the street. If anyone happened to stumble over you, the last thing you needed was to look freshly fucked. You were very open about your sexuality to the press but there was no need for anyone to find out about your little arrangement with Hailee.

You were just using her mouthwash to rinse your mouth - sadly losing the last traces of her taste on your tongue - when you planned your next steps. Go to the kitchen, drink some water, go back to the bedroom, grab your phone, put your belt back on - you would have to take that one from the headboard of Hailee’s bed - and leave. Maybe you would make a quick stop by the wine store on your way home since it was on your way.

Mouthwash back in place at the sink, you left the bathroom with a big intake of breath. “Do you want some water?” You asked her, leaning down to grab Hailee’s bra from the floor. She threw it on the armchair with a smirk.

Hailee nodded distractedly before she turned to grab the empty glass from her nightstand so you could fill it. That’s when your phone screen lighted up with a new text message and, even though you knew that wasn’t Hailee’s intention, she ended up reading what it said before the screen went black again. You weren’t worried about it, of course, but you quirked one eyebrow when Hailee grabbed your phone and threw you a glare that was obviously filled with anger.

“Did you just receive a text from someone else wanting to have sex with you while you’re still in my room?” She asked and, for a moment, you weren’t sure if she was actually mad or just playing with you.

The agreement between you two has been clear since the start. You were both single, you both needed to take some of the edge off sometimes, and you both enjoyed sex. It was a friends-with-benefits kind of situation, something that has been working for you two for about six months now. You were friends for longer, ever since you met her on the set of Hawkeye, but the sexual part of your friendship hadn’t started immediately.

And even now, six months later, nothing has changed between you two. You hung out with other people from the cast, you chatted and had a nice friendship that didn’t get complicated when one of you wanted to have sex.

The thing is Hailee wasn’t the only one you had that agreement with.

Your job didn’t allow you to be in the same city all the time and you, well, you enjoyed sex.

Having sex without any type of attachment was kind of your thing, actually, and Hailee was aware of that. You two spoke of going out and meeting other people all the time. There was no way you would’ve imagined she would be surprised, and apparently mad, to see you had some type of established friends-with-benefits thing with someone else.

When you didn’t say a thing, Hailee tapped on the screen of your phone to read the text out loud for you. “Are you free tonight? I’m in town and my hotel room has some good wine.” Hailee finished reading it and looked back at you. “With a wink face in the end.”

You were still standing in the middle of her room, not sure how to react to the drastic turn of events, but you just decided to go straight to the point. “We’re not dating,” you reminded her. “And you know I sleep with other people.”

Hailee kept looking at you for a while, probably trying to read what was going on inside your head, until she let out a breath and threw your phone on the mattress. “Don’t blame me for thinking this is a bit wicked.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You decided to do the button on your pants, suddenly not as comfortable anymore, before you stepped closer to the bed to grab your phone. You unlocked the screen to open the messages and, sure enough, there was the text that got Hailee so worked up. Florence’s name was flashing with the notification and you didn’t manage to hold back a little smile because you had no idea Florence would be in the US, let alone in the same town. You liked spending time with her way before you two started with the booty call thing.

“Are you going to see her tonight?” Hailee asked, trying to sound like she didn’t care, but you still saw how she kept throwing glances at you while looking through her phone again.

“Please, don’t tell me you caught some feelings for me,” you teased in order to try to avoid a fight. You didn’t want to fight tonight, especially about that. You liked being very clear with every girl you made an arrangement with. No attachments, no feelings, no wanting to boss you around. “That would be a terrible, terrible, destiny.” You walked to the side of the bed where she was and leaned in closer to her face.

Hailee locked eyes with you, almost challenging, but the girl broke eye contact first, as expected, glancing at your lips with a hungry look on her face. “No, I didn’t.”

“Really? So why are you so mad?”

Dark eyes snapped back to yours, now flaring with anger, and you chuckled happily before pulling away to add some space between you two. There was no way you were going to stay around now. “I’m not mad.” It only took one of your glares for Hailee to sigh and refute what she had just said. “I guess I just felt… disposable,” she admitted almost shyly, going back to being the girl who would give you doe eyes while you tied her wrists to the headboard with your belt.

“Well,” you raised your eyebrows, “we don’t have anything serious going on.”

“No, we don’t,” Hailee agreed with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” You offered her a smile, feeling a bit more relaxed now that the crisis has been averted. Considering that Hailee was very adamant about keeping her bisexuality hidden from the public eye and how eager she had talked about the date she had next week with someone else, you were pretty sure she hadn’t suddenly developed feelings for you, but you guess it would throw most people off to read a text like that. “But, to answer your question, I’m going home. I know it looks like I have infinite stamina but I can’t exactly go around having sex all night,” you joked.

Thankfully, Hailee laughed. “I didn’t know you and Florence have a thing. You never told me.”

“A girl don’t kiss and tell, Hailee,” you winked at her.

“You totally do!” She laughed again, even louder now, before throwing a pillow at you. “But fine, keep your secrets.”

“Hey, I’m just so damn lucky that Marvel gave me two jobs at the same time, and it just happened to be to share a screen with two hot women,” you teased her, addressing the fact that you had shot Hawkeye and the Black Widow movie at the same time a few months ago. Those had been crazy times because you had to be at both locations across the ocean from each other, remember your lines, shoot the scenes without screwing up too much, and find some time to sleep. “And I just spoke exactly like Hemsworth would,” you completed with a grimace.

“Who else you hooked up with?”

Laughing, you shook your head. “Good night, Hailee,” you said while leaning in to grab your belt before turning to leave her room.

[...]

You didn’t meet with Florence that night, though you two made plans to see each other the next day since the girl would be in town for another week. Just like it had happened with Hailee, you and Florence became friends with benefits over time. Things with Florence were very hassle-free. You went out as friends, hung out, grabbed drinks together, watched movies, went to new restaurants, talked about people you two went out with, and, sometimes, you had sex.

It was great and so simple that you could easily say that was probably the one thing in your life that wasn’t even a bit complicated. Which was something that only crossed your mind the night before while you were driving home with music blasting through the radio. Your little chat with Hailee had provoked your thoughts enough to have some of them jump on the back of your head and grab your attention.

You had said to Hailee that having feelings for you would’ve been stupid and you didn’t think you were lying about it but it also made you think about what you were doing with your life exactly. You never had a very serious relationship that lasted more than a few months and now, when most people your age were married with kids, you were still holding onto ‘friends with benefits’ things instead of building up the courage to actually try to build a life with someone. That wasn’t something you were ever worried about but your life crisis lasted the entire night and, by the time you managed to fall asleep, you were pretty sure you would end up being one of the people who died alone in a nursing home without having anyone else to talk with but the nurse who had to change your diaper because she was paid to do so.

A bit dramatic, sure, but your job was literally doing that in front of a screen.

So, by the time you met up with Florence that night, you had an entire day to mull over your life and had made up your mind about what you wanted for the future.

Of course that it was quite hard to remember what your decision had been when Florence had you pinned down on the bed, face pressed against the pillow and ass up, while she pounded behind you with a strap that you had no idea how she managed to travel with it inside her bag. Florence was one of the very few people you ever allowed to fuck you like that. Most of the time, you preferred to be on top, to be in charge, to see the person’s face while you two fucked each other's brain out, but Florence managed to get you so comfortable over time that you would allow her to do whatever she wanted with you.

You could still remember one of the first times you two had sex - a night when you had been a bit rougher than the times before that - and how Florence immediately demanded that you two talk about boundaries so you wouldn’t accidentally trigger each other in bed. You were lying on your back, hands behind your head and a smug grin on your face after making her scream out for the entire hotel to hear, and Florence was straddling your hips slowly grinding against you even after her own orgasm.

“What about color code?” She had asked with her husky voice and sexy accent.

“What about it?” You replied without having a clue what she was talking about because the way she was grinding against you was making your head spin.

Florence chuckled lowly, sending a shiver down your spine. “Red, yellow and green. So we can communicate more easily.”

“Why?” You frowned. “Can’t we just say stop and harder?”

“Because it’s sexy,” she had replied while leaning down, one hand brushing against your skin, up your abs, between your breasts, until her fingers closed around your throat and applied some pressure to make it a bit harder for you to breathe. “Color?” Florence asked in a whisper against your ear before her tongue darted out to lick a hot trail on your neck.

You gulped and your hips jerked trying to get more friction from her. Even so, you decided to be honest about it. “Yellow.”

“Why?” Florence wondered as her fingers lost strength around your throat and she leaned back to look at you.

You shrugged. “Not my thing, I suppose.”

She nodded then before lying on top of you again. This time, the other hand that had been serving as a support on the bed sneaked between your back and the mattress, going up until it reached the back of your head. There, she grabbed a handful of your hair and gave it a very gentle pull. So gentle you could only feel the pressure of her fingers holding your curls. “Color?” Florence asked again and you had to agree that it was a sexier way to discuss those types of things.

“That’s a very green situation,” you replied playfully. “Like, lime green situation.”

And then Florence chuckled against your ear and your hips picked up pace and the conversation ended up with both of you cumming all over each other. It had been one of the sexiest experiences in your life but it also proved to you that you could trust Florence and could trust being intimate with her. She respected you and you respected her, and, above all, you were friends.

That’s why you weren’t even a little ashamed of the almost pornographic moan that escaped your lips when, after you came for what felt like at least ten minutes, Florence rolled off you with a groan after putting her body to such extremes to bring you over the edge. She collapsed beside you in bed, even though you were lying right in the middle and hadn’t moved at all, and got rid of the toy and the sheets that were tangled on your legs. You were grateful for that because your body felt like it was on fire and even the thin sheet was making it worse.

“God, no one can make me cum as hard as you can,” you declared out of nowhere, making Florence snap her eyes back to you in surprise for a second before she chuckled. “I swear to God,” you insisted, even nodding a little before closing your eyes to try to get a hold of your breath.

“I'm flattered,” Florence replied in amusement as she leaned closer to give you a light bite on the shoulder.

You sighed and finally found enough strength to turn to your side so you could face her. There was a small gap between your bodies because you were still feeling too warm. “You should.” You smiled and wiggled your eyebrows. “I can't even feel my legs right now.”

It made Florence laugh again and, as she threw her head back, your eyes hungrily took on the column of her neck. “That's why you keep coming back for more,” she teased you and then reached out behind her to grab the water bottle she left there earlier that night.

You watched her for a moment - the gulp of water, her eyes dancing with mirth as she looked at you, her lips curling around the bottle - and accepted a sip of water when she offered you some. You handed her the bottle back already deciding to start talking. “You know… I was with someone else when you texted me yesterday.”

Florence didn’t look surprised or affected by the information, although her voice became a bit sarcastic when she spoke again. “Oh, no. Did I get you in trouble?”

You rolled your eyes at her fake concern. “No, not really. Well, I mean, a little bit,” you admitted with a grimace. “She got mad that I received a text from another girl but she promised it wasn’t because she was in love with me or anything. Something about feeling disposable.” You didn’t think you needed to tell Florence who you were with and you were sure she didn’t even care or wanted to know either, so you didn’t say it. Hailee’s secret would be safe.

“Friends with benefits does work a lot like that, yes,” Florence retorted with a knowing look, as if she knew all about what you were telling her. You wouldn’t be shocked to know that she went through something similar herself because, as far as you knew, you also weren’t Florence's first fuckbuddy.

She said nothing else after that, and neither did you for a while. Eventually, Florence closed her eyes as if she was about to go to sleep and you knew you had to say what you wanted before she started to snore beside you - you didn’t feel the same need to rush out of her bed like you did with everyone else.

“Flo?”

“Yeah?” She didn’t open her eyes or move from the comfortable position she was in - with one hand under her cheek and the other one resting on the mattress between you two.

You hesitated only for a second simply because you didn’t want to disturb the peace she seemed to have found. Even so, you needed to say it and Florence’s sleep would sadly have to wait a few more minutes. “Is there any chance this thing between us could ever be more?”

As expected, Florence’s eyes snapped open so fast that it was almost comical to watch it. “What?”

“Don’t freak out yet,” you told her, biting your lip to hold back a laugh that wanted to escape. “I'm not about to confess my undying love or something like that,” you promised her. “I was just wondering if there is even a small chance of us being more than just fuck buddies.”

Florence still looked too surprised to say anything more than some questions. “What brought this on?” She used one elbow to hold her body up to look at you.

“The girl from yesterday, actually. It got me thinking.” You shrugged and then mumbled: “Probably more than I should.” You sighed and rolled to your back to stare at the ceiling. “As cliche as it is, I’m not getting any younger. I'm older than you.” Even saying that made you cringe because you hated being reminded that you were older than those girls, that you most definitely were trying to be forever in your mid-twenties even though you had passed that already. “You’re still young and don't have to worry about those things yet, but I'm starting to think about having a serious relationship.” You turned your head to look at her and added: “Settle down,” as if she might not understand what you were trying to say.

Florence quirked one eyebrow. “And you think I'm the right person to do it with?”

Her reaction didn’t surprise you, of course. You two were friends who enjoyed sex with each other. Florence had never shown any extra interest in you other than that but, as you had realized the night before, she was the one person in your life who you could see maybe building up something more than casual sex with. That’s why you were having that conversation and you knew she would have her reservations about it since you just dropped the subject on her out of nowhere.

So, you tried to lighten up the mood with a smile and a little joke. “Well, it wouldn’t be fair with you, if I'm being honest.”

“What do you mean?”

“To tie you up with someone older when you’re still young enough to enjoy being single?” You gave her a playful stare. “What an asshole move.” To add some effect to your words, you rolled your eyes and scoffed to yourself before shrugging again. “But I'm a bit selfish, I guess.”

Florence watched you for a moment, still confused but starting to see what you were trying to say. “So why are we having this conversation?”

“Because I would like to know if this more serious thing I’m looking for could be found with you,” you confessed, never one to beat around the bush. “If so, we could give it a try.” You saw her opening her mouth to say something so you quickly kept talking. “I'm not saying we would immediately start dating and get married by the end of the year, but we would give it a try. It could work or it couldn’t.” That’s the only thing you wanted. To know if there was a chance for you two to at least try. Like you said, it might not work, but you knew that, if it didn’t, it wouldn’t affect your friendship. Florence might be younger than you but she was very mature and you would be able to handle it if things went south. “That’s how dating goes, you know?”

“And if not? We don’t have sex anymore?” Florence wondered and then dropped into bed again with a sad sigh. “That would be sad. Sex with you is pretty great.”

That made you laugh. “We don’t have to stop this. We can still fuck,” you told her. “I'm just telling you that I would start looking for someone else to build a relationship with. We can still fuck until I find that person.” That wasn’t exactly new. That’s exactly how every relationship works. You were allowed to have sex with whoever you wanted until you started something serious with someone. Most people wouldn’t let their friend with benefits know they were trying to find someone else to date but things were never traditional with Florence anyway.

“The girl from yesterday…?” The blonde wondered without finishing her phrase.

You quickly shook your head when you understood what she meant, though. “It wouldn’t work out like that between us. She knows it too.”

“And you think it would work with me?” Florence insisted and, this time, she sounded incredulous that you would think that.

“It could.” Again, you laughed. The look on her face was pretty priceless. You decided to turn on your side again so you two would be facing each other and playfully dragged your fingers on the mattress to poke her ribs. “You fuck me like nobody else, I trust you. Not everyone is allowed to fuck me on all fours, you know?” You joked, your nail scratching her skin. “Or pull my hair,” you added with a wink and then removed your hand from her body so you wouldn’t get too distracted. “We never tried to get further than that because we both agreed on the fuck buddies thing, but I think I could find many things about you to like. You're funny and extremely caring about everyone else. That’s enough for me to want to give it a try, if you want to.”

Florence hesitated long enough for you to know what her answer would be. It made you a little sad, of course, but you weren’t heartbroken by it. “And if I don’t, we’re not going to stop…”

“No.” You shook your head to put more emphasis on it.

And, to no one’s surprise, Florence sighed and said: “I'm sorry.”

You chuckled and reached out to squeeze her hand. “Don't be, Florence.”

“But I am,” she whined, intertwining her fingers with yours and bringing your joined hands to her chest. “I'm really sorry because you're a great person and I can see what you're saying about it possibly working out.” You tried not to think about the back of your fingers touching her boobs, though it was easier than expected because you just couldn’t look away from the sad look on her face. “But I'm not ready to have anything serious.”

“And that’s okay,” you said and meant every word. You wouldn’t hold it against her at all. You asked her a question and she answered it. Now you could move on. “You don’t have to do something you don’t feel ready to do. Especially something like this.”

“I'm sorry,” Florence repeated softly.

“Stop apologizing,” you chuckled again to let her know it was fine and she shouldn’t be feeling so guilty about it. “Thank you for being honest and saving both of us some time, okay?” To show her how grateful you were for that, you leaned in and brushed your lips against her collarbone before letting your teeth grasp against the soft skin there. “Now, I remember you saying something about more sex. My legs are still shaking but my mouth is working just fine.”

And that was it.

No hard feelings.

You saw Florence two more times after that before she left town to go shoot her new movie somewhere in Europe. You had sex at one of those times but you both had brunch with a few friends in common the other day and it was good to realize nothing had changed. You both promised to keep in touch after Florence went to the airport and talked about maybe seeing each other again in a few months when she was done shooting and you were done with your own job, and that was the end of it.

Sadly, it was the end quite literally.

Florence’s shooting delayed several weeks due to bad weather and, by the time she was back in the US, you had left to shoot a series in Australia. When you returned home, she was in the UK. When you went to Europe, she was doing a press tour in Japan. And so on. Your agendas were always clashing and you never stumbled over each other. You saw her briefly once when you attended the same award show almost a year after the last time you had sex but you had to catch a plane right after the award was over.

Even though you didn’t meet in person, you never stopped talking over texts and eventual calls when you had the time. Florence was still your friend and you enjoyed talking with her.

Life kept going on like that.

You called off most of your casual hookups with time but you tried to focus on your job more than your romantic life despite what you have decided about having a serious relationship. You wanted it, but you didn’t want to rush into anything out of desperation just to regret it later. Things would fall in place with time, you were certain of it.

Close to the two-year anniversary of the conversation you had with Florence, you received the news that a new Marvel movie was going to start being shot in a couple of months and most of the cast was going to be called back to do it. That meant you would work with her again but not only her. Many of your old friends would be there and you were very excited to live all of that with them again.

When the announcement was made, Scarlett reached out to ask all the women to a dinner party in her house and you obviously accepted it. Scarlett was a dear friend of yours and you would’ve agreed to meet her for dinner despite of the reason, although she added more reasons for you to say eyes when she said she was trying to get the girls back together before shooting. You saw some known faces in there and it was an amazing night. You all ate, talked, laughed and joked all night, and you had such a great time there that you had a permanent smile on your face when you walked out of the door by the end of it.

Brie was talking loudly while walking towards the cab that she had called to herself and Florence was standing beside you while you two watched her go in amusement. That was the first time in a long time that you two spent time together and you couldn’t deny that you had missed it. Florence made it easy to enjoy her presence.

After Brie was safely inside the car, you turned to walk to where you had parked since you all had already said your goodbyes, but Florence’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Hey, would you like to grab a drink? We could go to my hotel, they have an excellent bar by the lobby.”

You smiled because, yes, you had hoped you two could catch up, but you had thought about asking Florence to go to a new restaurant with you the next day or something. You turned back to her and nodded. “I would love that, yes.”

That’s how you two ended up sitting at the bar stools laughing loudly without a care in the world. You had talked a lot during the dinner but you two found more things to talk about. It was easy to talk with Florence, it was easy to tell her silly stories and make fun of yourself because you knew she wouldn’t judge you for any of it. And you loved to hear her talk about her own life and her own adventures and everything that happened at the time you hadn’t seen each other.

You lost track of time and you were surprised when you glanced at your phone and saw it was almost two in the morning already. There was just one other table being occupied and two other clients on the stools by the counters but you could tell the people on the bar were praying everyone would leave soon so they could clean up and go home. You were just thinking about calling it a night and asking Florence to meet up again tomorrow when you felt her fingers brushing on the back of your hand timidly.

“So… Did you meet that person?”

You didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. “I did, yes,” you admitted and then shrugged. “It didn’t work out but that's fine.” You had met someone who you thought might be the person for you but it all went downhill pretty quickly after five months together. “We’re still friends.”

She nodded slowly in understanding. “Anyone else now?”

You could see where this was going, even more so because the fingers on your hand were drawing little circles against your skin and because her eyes were glued to yours. You had been on the end of Florence’s flirting many times before to know she was trying to subtly say what she wanted that night. You didn’t mind. In fact, you were suddenly very excited about it. As said before, you had hoped, but didn’t expect it to happen.

“No,” you replied with a smirk as your other hand found a way to her thigh, barely covered by the dress she was wearing. She smiled back at you, eyes sparkling, and you felt your heart melt inside your chest a little. “I'm happy to see you again, Flo,” you confessed in an unusual emotional moment. “It's been a long time.”

Florence nodded eagerly and licked her lips all while slipping from the stool and tugging at your hand to do the same. “Way too long, yes.”

Hours later, you were both naked on the bed again, sheets kicked to the floor, bodies sweaty, short breaths, scratched backs. Even after so long, you two still had the same chemistry as before. It was still easy. Still amazing.

You were lying on your stomach, both arms beneath the pillow where your head was resting, eyes closed as you felt her fingertips brush against your back. The last time you checked, Florence was lying on your side looking at you but you were feeling too tired to open your eyes again to see if she moved. Besides, the air around you two felt like she was trying to gather up enough courage to start a conversation and you didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Whatever she wanted to say, it looked important.

You were starting to feel sleep creep in when you finally heard Florence sighing.

“The conversation we had a year ago.” Florence didn’t say more. She didn’t finish her sentence or start something else, and you just knew she had lost courage in the middle of her phrase.

You almost smiled. Instead, you decided to ask her: “What about it?”

You couldn’t see her but Florence bit her bottom lip and her eyes looked at you with something between concern and longing on them. “I wasn't ready then but… If you still think we could give it a try…”

You had hoped.

But you didn’t expect it.

You smiled, eyes still closed. “Aren't you going to ask me out on a date, Ms Pugh?”

“Would you say yes?”

“I don't know.” It was becoming harder to hold back the laugh that wanted to escape. “You didn’t ask yet.”

Florence chuckled and you finally cracked one eye open to see her nose scrunch in that adorable way it always did. Florence’s fingers never stopped drawing random patterns on your back. “Would you go on a date with me? Almost two years later because it took me some time to catch up with you.”

Something you would never blame her for, of course. Florence was still young then. She still is now but those two years had matured her a lot from what you could tell. Not to mention that things between us wouldn’t have worked back then. Not with the crazy schedule you both have. If she had said yes back then and you two tried to date, you wouldn’t have the time to actually be together. No relationship would ever work like that.

But now… Now she was older, she knew what she wanted and so did you, and you were about to slow down on your agendas for a while. It was the perfect time to try it.

“I would love to,” you finally answered and saw her muscles visibly relaxed. You closed your eye again, smiling and trying not to look so damn smug about it. “You pick the restaurant and I will wear something nice for you to take it off by the end of the night.”

Her husky laugh filled the room. “I like the sound of that.”

After saying that, Florence curled against your side and you both fell asleep soon after that.

[...]

“Hey, Y/N?” The mattress beside you moved when Florence turned around in your arms to look at your face and you almost screamed in frustration because you were just a second away from falling asleep.

“What?” You groaned.

“Are you awake?” Florence asked with a low tone.

“Who do you think answered you?” You retorted with a huff but were unable to not find it amusing.

“I wanted to thank you for giving me another chance,” Florence said after a brief pause. “I didn’t even deserve the first one you gave me. I was immature enough to be scared. I didn’t even give it a try.”

This time, you groaned louder because, no, you didn’t want to have that conversation at - you glanced at the clock on the nightstand - four in the morning. “Go to sleep, Florence,” you begged after resting your head back on the pillow and closing your eyes.

“I just wanted to say that,” she kept going. “And that I love you. Very much.”

Well, you couldn’t not reply to that. You sighed but smiled, and then pulled her ever closer to you so you could kiss her forehead. “I love you too, Florence,” you whispered against her skin. “But I will be asking for a divorce if you don’t let me sleep now.”

Florence chuckled. “That would be the fastest a marriage has ever ended,” she joked and her words made the weight of the ring on your finger intensify.

You still couldn’t believe you two got married a couple of hours ago after dating for over three years. It felt like a dream yet and you wondered how long it would take for you to get used to the cold metal around your finger. You would have to get used to it because you would wear it for the rest of your life, after all.

“Sorry, I think Britney would still beat us,” you responded jokingly. “No record for you.”

“Guess we need to remain married then.” She forced a sigh to pretend she was annoyed by it and you pinched her side.

“What a burden,” you agreed after she laughed. “To be married to the love of your life forever? Ugh.” You faked a gag and were rewarded with another chuckle. You could spend the rest of your life listening to it and, thankfully, you would.

Once she was done laughing, Florence snuggled even closer - if that was even possible - and sighed contently against your neck. “I love you.” She kissed your jaw. “Good night.”

“Night.”

[nyrasproblm]

DUNE MASTERLIST

Leto Atreides:

I'm not the only one. (series)

Paul Atreides:

I hope you never regret letting yourself be carried away by your ambition. (part 2)

For you to stay with me. - oneshot

You are my wife. - oneshot

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen:

Useless. (series)

You shouldn't be upset, my love. - oneshot

Na-baron's concubine. - oneshot

LET THE WORLD BURN. - oneshot

Gurney Halleck:

I Couldn't Anymore. - oneshot

Princess Irulan Corrino:

Your Highness, the princess. - oneshot

You are my wife. - oneshot

Jessica Atreides:

Water of purity. - oneshot

Broken trust. - oneshot

It's all for you, everything I do. - oneshot

A different purpose. - oneshot

Stilgar:

The dunes erase the sadness. - oneshot

Sand path. - oneshot

[eu-nicola]

"Between visions." Paul Atreides x Princess Irulan (different ending)

summary: In a world of political intrigue and prophecies, Paul, Irulan, and Chani find themselves caught in a triangle of love and betrayal. As Paul grapples with his visions of the future and his relationship with Irulan transforms, Chani clings to hope for a family. As tensions escalate and secrets are revealed, the three struggle to find their place in the world.

warnings: eithout correcting, loss of a child, manipulation perhaps, and I think nothing else, if I forget something let me know.

From the moment Paul took Princess Irulan's hand, things certainly didn't improve, at least not for the princess. True, she was part of her husband's council, but what good did it serve her if her life was miserable and devoid of a shred of love or even attention to console her?

Paul's promises to Chani still echoed in Irulan's thoughts, whether she wanted them to or not. The princess was strong in mind and soul, that was what still kept her standing, and what was even more important was that she was very intelligent. She took all of this in stride, refusing to be affected by the fact that she was destined for a loveless marriage and without children.

Paul, on the other hand, began to have visions involving Irulan. Not just any visions, but rather of the princess with a swollen belly. Paul's interactions since then were more cautious and suspicious, simply from the thought that Irulan's belly might be carrying another man's child, perhaps an enemy's.

He didn't want to dwell on the issue any further and simply pushed it aside, but at the same time, he couldn't help but pay attention. Or at least that's what he wanted to do. The visions actually tormented him with possible futures, especially those in which Irulan's face reflected joy and wonder as she held a child, whose eyes gleamed with the same golden intensity as his own.

From that moment on, Paul made sure to make Irulan's life miserable, no matter how bad it made her feel, but he never planned to have children with her, ever. The only mother of his children would be Chani, the only woman he loved would be the true mother of his children.

Fearful of the implications of his offspring, Paul retreated into a distant and disdainful attitude towards Irulan. This distancing only fueled resentment between them, creating an emotional chasm that threatened to destroy the princess's loyalty. The princess sank into dark resentment. Amid whispers of the court, she pondered plans to weaken her position and undermine her confidence in Chani. Secret intrigues were woven in the palace corridors as the princess explored the possibility of winning the loyalty of those surrounding Paul. Jealousy and envy drove her to consider conspiring against him and Chani, seeking to undermine the connection that seemed unbreakable. An aura of betrayal hung over the princess, who delved into the shadows to reach her own dark objectives.

Despite the dark conspiracy weaving in her mind, the princess could not escape the internal conflict that enveloped her. Among the whispers of betrayal, an echo reminded her of the love she still felt for Paul, albeit distorted by ambition. Every step toward conspiracy was marked by hesitation, a shadow of doubt wavering in her heart.

The idealized love for Paul was perhaps even greater than her desires for betrayal. The princess sought a balance between her dark desires and the fragments of affection that resisted fading away completely.

•••••••••••••••••••

Paul, lost in his own world as the wind gently blew, delved into the depths of his visions, still trying to decipher the future. However, a shroud of uncertainty loomed, challenging his prescient abilities. In his heart, he began to doubt the certainties that had once seemed unshakable.

Days later, when the princess had vanished from his sight and retreated into her own world, Chani, in a moment of solitude, approached Paul with news that would change his beliefs about destiny. The bond between them had borne fruit, and she carried within her the gift of life. Paul, surprised by the news, momentarily thought that perhaps all this time his visions had been wrong and that what he desired was actually going to come true. That's what he wanted.

Poor Irulan had no choice but to remain silent in the face of the news, not even having words to say; she simply accepted the fate she had once already accepted.

The light in Paul's eyes intensified as he interacted with Chani, and his laughter, a rare presence until then, became more frequent. This change even extended to his relationship with Irulan. Impending fatherhood softened the sharp edges of the intricate political web that surrounded them.

The princess took every part that Paul offered her to feel complete, no matter what it was, even politics, something she truly loved and enjoyed doing.

As political tensions and future expectations converged in the Palace of Arrakis, the relationship between Irulan and Paul underwent a subtle metamorphosis. Moments of shared humor and complicity arising from Chani's pregnancy slowly transformed into a deeper connection between Irulan and Paul.

On a starry night, with the dunes illuminated by the moonlight, Paul and Irulan shared a singular encounter. Far from the political intrigues and responsibilities weighing on their shoulders, they found themselves in a quiet corner of the palace. The conversations that were once only held in council now flowed with an authenticity neither had experienced before.

The physical proximity between them became palpable, charged with unexpected energy. Comfortable silences intertwined with meaningful glances, revealing layers of mutual understanding that went beyond their predetermined roles. In that moment, Paul and Irulan realized the humanity they shared, regardless of the circumstances that had brought them together.

Under the cover of night, Paul and Irulan, propelled by a newly discovered emotional connection, shared an experience that defied expectations and the constraints of their world. A night that, in its intimacy, marked the beginning of something unexpected.

From Irulan's perspective, the night was an encounter with the naked truth of emotions. The walls she had built to protect herself from the complexities of love and vulnerability slowly crumbled. Each prolonged gaze was a step beyond the predefined limitations of her relationship with Paul. The physical closeness was an echo of the emotional connection that was developing, and in the stillness of the night, Irulan found herself contemplating the possibility of a different future than she had imagined.

For Paul, however, the night brought a profound revelation. Irulan's company, which had previously been confined to political duties and formalities, transformed into a source of comfort and understanding. The princess's warm laughter and sincere conversations were like a breath of fresh air amidst the intricate web of his responsibilities. He felt like he was betraying everything he wanted. But in that moment, as strange as it felt, he enjoyed the company of his wife.

The calm that had enveloped the night abruptly dissipated the next morning when Paul, engulfed in a mixture of confusion and anxiety, decided to withdraw early. His thoughts, usually sharp and prescient, became entangled in the uncertainty unleashed by the previous night. Without explanations or farewells, Paul departed, leaving Irulan alone with the morning shadows.

Hours later, Irulan, bewildered by Paul's absence and not fully understanding the reason behind his sudden departure, learned the tragic news. Chani, the bearer of new life, had lost the baby.

The devastating news enveloped the palace air with a veil of sadness. In their grief and confusion, Paul, prey to the irrationality of mourning, found a target for his frustration: Irulan. In his affliction, he blamed Irulan for the disconnect he felt between his visions and reality, a connection that, in his mind, could have altered the course of events.

Irulan, surprised by the unfair accusation, found herself caught in Paul's emotional storm. The tragedy had triggered a series of events that defied any logic, and while Chani mourned the loss of her child, the relationships between Irulan and Paul became fragile, shrouded in the pain and weight of unfounded guilt.

As the days passed, the relationship between Paul and Irulan grew increasingly tense. The shadows of accusation and loss cast a dark cloud over their connection, eclipsing the moments they had once shared. Miscommunication and distrust erected insurmountable barriers.

At the height of their estrangement, the princess found herself facing news that would completely change everything. She learned that she was pregnant. The uncertainty of the child's future added to the burden of her fractured relationship with Paul.

Upon confessing the news to Paul, the room filled with a heavy silence. The revelation unleashed a storm of emotions in both, as they faced the decisions they now had to make. The life growing in Irulan's belly became an unbreakable bond between them, despite the challenges they faced as a couple.

The news of the pregnancy acted as a catalyst, forcing Paul and Irulan to confront the complications of their relationship more directly. The weight of past accusations momentarily faded, making room for deep reflection on the meaning of life and the crucial decisions they had to make.

For her part, Irulan experienced a mixture of fear and hope. The responsibility of bringing a new life into the world forced her to confront her own dilemmas. The life growing inside her served as a constant reminder that all of this shouldn't have happened, yet it did.

Though content with this, the days of pregnancy passed in silence. Paul's absence, immersed in his own struggles and political responsibilities, left her to face the emotional and physical challenges of pregnancy alone. The loneliness became palpable in the silent nights and in the moments when doubts and fears enveloped her.

Although Irulan immersed herself in writing and reflection to fill the emotional voids, the lack of emotional support became a constant burden. The absence of a support network affected her maternal experience, leading her to question the decisions that led her down this solitary path.

Over time, the visions Paul had about Irulan had become reality. When the day came, Irulan, accompanied by the silent murmur of palace medical staff, gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. The room resonated with the emotional tension that hung in the air, while life flourished amidst the shadows of the past.

The little one, wrapped in the warmth of blankets, bore an astonishing resemblance to Paul. His presence in the room illuminated the space, dissipating the shadows that had darkened the path to this moment. Every familiar feature, from the deep eyes to the strands of dark hair, testified to Paul's legacy in the new life that had come into the world.

Irulan, holding the baby in her arms, found herself captivated by the expression of innocence on his face. The connection between mother and child transcended the complications of the past, and in that moment, she plunged into unconditional love that illuminated her own face, reflecting hope and the possibility of a different future.

••••••••••••••••

With the passage of time, Paul, facing the responsibilities of his office and the prescient visions that continued to guide his path, made a painful but inevitable decision to end his relationship with Chani. The deep connection they shared was overshadowed by political decisions and his life.

Irulan, always on the periphery of Paul's life, found herself transformed into the main companion in his life. The reconciliation born at the birth of their first child evolved over time. Paul, after overcoming the shadows of the past, found in Irulan a solid support and genuine connection.

Together, Paul and Irulan decided to expand their family, welcoming more children who filled the palace halls with laughter and joy. Each new birth represented an opportunity for redemption and the building of a united family. Though power and political intrigues persisted, the home Paul and Irulan built became a refuge.

As the family grew, Paul found in Irulan not only his life companion but someone to share joys and sorrows with, and a loving mother to his children.

Life led Paul down paths that transformed his feelings towards Chani. The pressures of leadership and constant political struggles created emotional distances between them. Responsibilities created a chasm, and political reality overshadowed the light of love that once flourished between them.

Chani, in turn, found in her loneliness and lack of emotional connection the need to seek comfort elsewhere. The emotional distance from Paul led her to explore new connections, and eventually, she fell in love with someone else. The search for understanding and affection led her to a relationship that filled the emotional void that persisted in her life.

The severing of ties between Paul and Chani was not simply a consequence of individual decisions but a complex dance of circumstances that life presented to them. Political designs and the inevitabilities of power transformed the nature of their love, leading them down separate paths.

Thus, amidst intrigue and change, both Paul and Chani found themselves on paths where life, with its unpredictable twists, led them to seek new forms of love and connection, leaving behind a story that was once the center of their lives.

Lastly, Irulan, far from being just a distant witness to Paul's life, became the protagonist of her own destiny. Redemption and love intertwined in her story, demonstrating that, despite some difficult moments after suffering, the good part always comes in the end. Both were committed to building a shared future, and so it was until the end of their days.

[necstasy]

fem servant reader; married irulan; infidelity; fingering; cunnilingus; &. PRINCESS IRULAN CORRINO MDNI 18+

“this … this is wrong.”

the labored words of princess irulan’s protests ring throughout the minimalistic room before meeting your ears.

you hum, resting your head on her inner thigh as you innocently peer up at her. she’s the picture of pleasure— her head thrown back and the crown of her blonde hair rubbing against the backrest of the chair, creating some sort of halo which illuminates her soft and flushed features.

her lips shine a deeper pink, nearly red, while her cheeks house a soft pink. she looks as if she’s wearing cosmetics applied by her servants, by your colleagues, but the early hour negates the possibility. no one has seen the princess yet today, not even her husband. only you have. the only one to truly bring her pleasure.

“why?” you press a kiss into the skin right beside her fluttering cunt, not even bothering to slow the pace of your fingers as they move inside of her. if you did, you know the princess would force you to continue. even despite her objections. “because i am a woman?”

“no,” she’s firm in her answer, up until you hook your fingers just right and her denial is broken off by a moan. she takes a second to recover, clearing her throat and pressing all of her strength into the way she grips the armrests of her chair. “because i am married.”

it’s the same answer she always gives, and like always, you snort. usually, you’ll mutter some complaint about the princess’s husband, something in a language she only barely knows. but today, you humor her.

“your husband makes you feel as good as i do, princess?”

it takes her a second, and she doesn’t reply until you press your thumb into her clit. only then does she sigh with defeat and disagree.

you know the lisan al-gaib hasn’t slept with her. you know muad’dib likely never will. if he were just paul, the son of house atreides and nothing but a possibility part of a meticulously crafted program of possibilities, then he might have slept with the princess. but the man that he has become, the figure that he has become, will not.

“a marriage of convince is hardly a true marriage, princess.” you speed up the pace of your fingers, spitting onto princess irulan’s clit and letting your saliva drip down, catching it on your fingers before forcing it into her. the extra lubrication wasn’t needed, but you know the princess likes when you treat her like this. she likes it when you’re a little rough and dirty.

“you’re only married by names of the law, and not the heart.”

her voice wobbles in her rebuttal. the forced condescending tone in her words does nothing to cover her arousal. “so what, you're saying you could have been a better spouse than the emperor?"

you don't fail to acknowledge how you and the princess wouldn't have been able to marry at all. with her being the eldest daughter of the emperor, her marriages were always planned. she would have always married for breeding purposes, and never for pleasure.

still, your answer is easy. “if i were given the chance, yes. i would have treated you better than he does. i would give you everything you need, no questions asked.”

as soon as the words have left your mouth, princess irulan has a delicate hand pressed into the back of your head and a split second later you have your nose smooshed against her patch of trimmed pubic hair.