#dune part 2 fic

[finelinevogue]

timothée chalamet masterlist

*•.,’•*•.,’•*•.,’•*•.,’•*•.,’•*•.,’•*

✨ timothée chalamet:

🌙 paul atreides:

love isn’t weakness - paul helps you see love isn’t a weakness

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 4.5k

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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.

The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .

There’s you.

And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.

This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.

If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.

The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?

Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.

The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.

The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.

They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.

No one could save you.

“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.

How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.

“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.

Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.

“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”

You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.

The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.

“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.

He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.

“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.

You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.

“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.

“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.

A pause.

“Please.” And then he went back to eating.

So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.

“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.

Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.

“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”

Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.

“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.

For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.

“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.

“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”

He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.

“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.

Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.

“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.

“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”

That awful, ugly, no good- 

“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed. 

You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things. 

‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’ 

You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics. 

You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered. 

“Do all women take this long to get ready?” 

You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf. 

He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring. 

He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous. 

“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms. 

You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited. 

You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have. 

“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction. 

Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away. 

The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth. 

You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm. 

You waited. And waited. And waited. 

“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand. 

There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?  

“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far. 

You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket. 

You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack. 

“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm. 

“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce. 

“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement. 

“No.” 

“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.” 

Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest. 

“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . .  spineless.” 

You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he. 

“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him. 

‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you. 

“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred. 

“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice. 

You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together. 

“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . . 

Aimed at his throat. 

He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him. 

And then he leaned in closer. And closer.

“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.

 You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. .  . the natural musk of his skin. 

“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin. 

He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it. 

“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own. 

Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in. 

“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you. 

He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole. 

They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with. 

When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain. 

But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it. 

‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’ 

His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft. 

“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair. 

Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire. 

And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood. 

“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now. 

“I wanted to.” You conceded. 

“Then you should have tried harder.”

Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused. 

There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone. 

And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably. 

There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land. 

He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now. 

Like the fact that he had almost kissed you. 

Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you. 

You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now. 

Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating. 

Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped. 

“Atreides.” 

The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized. 

No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . . 

Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger. 

‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier. 

He had been trying to warn you.

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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

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the wonderful line “fear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slave” is from the movie “the labyrinth”!

[kpopnstarwars]

Atonement: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: fic i wrote with @triluvial 's lovely idea

tw: 18+, smut but pretty soft, oral (f recieving), so so so so much angst, fluff after tho dw, swearing, hints of sa and pedophilia from the baron, baron is also creepy to reader but not explicitly, u gotta bear with my yapping in the beginning but it gets good i promise, inkpie

wc: 3.9k

headcanons for this universe

When you married Feyd-Rautha, you were warned of many things. His cruelty, both in and out of the bedroom, his bloodlust, his uncontrollable rage, his violence, his complete and utter lack of mercy. They told you he was psychotic, he was a cold blooded murderer, he was insatiable and that you’d be lucky to last a year with him, and yet, they never cautioned you of his sheer, unerring indifference.

Before your marriage, you fancied that he’d be like fire; raging, searing to touch. You went as far as to wish to tame his inferno. Late at night, when you could not sleep and doubt wreathed your thoughts, you also considered that he’d be like ice, like the colour of his piercing eyes, glacial and cold, devoid of anything soft or sweet.

As a child, you saw him fight in the arena. There he blazed with passion, his victor’s smile a cruel curve upon his face, his knife blade stained dark with fresh blood: he was mesmerising. At that time you were beginning to understand that your future had been sold to this violent man, and you resented your parents for it - now you realise that it went deeper than that, that it was rooted in generations of religion, of whisperings of the Bene Gesserit. Still, even then, you found the way he burned intriguing, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

But you were wrong. He turned out to be neither fire nor ice, just stingingly, dismissively apathetic. His eyes slide right over you when he happens to pass you in the corridors, as if you’re lower than a servant, lower than the rare rats that survive Giedi Prime’s conditions. You suspected your marriage would be painful, wedded to a man such as he was, but you didn’t think it would be this damn lonely.

You wished he hated you.

That way, at least you’d mean something to your husband. At least then vehement, savage emotion would rise within his gaze whenever he looked at you, not that horrible, polarising blankness. You wish you disgusted him, because then he’d at least he’d speak his mind - you had learnt that he spoke with brutal honesty, uncaring of the consequences.

Maybe to him, that’s all you are. A consequence of being high born, of being the na-Baron. You mean nothing to him, and he treats you as such; to him, you are less than the speck of dust on the floor, less than a grain of sand in his beloved arena.

It’s not that you wish for him to dote on you, nor love you or devote himself to you. You just wish he would look you in the eye and feel something; you’d rather him stare at you in revulsion and call you names that you can’t even think up yourself than the dead, lifeless detachment that clouds his face when he sees you in your shared chambers.

Feyd-Rautha has never laid a hand on you in violence; in fact he rarely touches you at all. The last, and only time he kissed was during the wedding day, and he makes no moves to be in bodily contact with you any more than he has to be. You are obliged to produce an heir from him, yet even in these infrequent encounters it seems as if it is a chore for him - he takes no pleasure in your body nor does he try to pleasure you, and he makes no sound when he takes you, staying as long as it takes for his seed to fill your womb before leaving without a word. On those nights, your thighs tremble as you stumble to the bathroom, only allowing your tears to fall once the shower water is searing on your skin.

During the first month of your marriage, you did everything in your power to please him. You thought maybe you weren’t pretty enough for him, maybe you were not desirable as a wife, so you always smiled at him, made an effort to fill the silence that pervaded the air around him, bringing up topics you knew he would enjoy, like the arena, like his love for knives and duels. To even that he would not reply, rebutting your questions with monosyllables or simply ignoring you. You stopped once he began to leave the room while you were mid sentence.

It is now your fourth month locked in this marriage with an uncaring man, and all you feel is bleak, crushing resignation. Somehow, Feyd-Rautha seems to take more interest in conversing with his brother than you.

You wonder if he has forgotten your name. He addresses you simply as ‘wife’ - that, and nothing more, the title leaving his lips like an accusatory curse, reminding you that if you did not serve a purpose to him, and if decorum did not restrain him, he’d have disposed of you by now, either by slitting your throat or simply abandoning you outside the palace grounds, not even bothering to end you himself.

The palace in question is lonely, but you feel the loneliest when you lay awake at night, shivering on your side of the bed as Feyd-Rautha slumbers to your right. Tears always prick your eyes during those moments, but you stifle them, afraid that you’ll rouse him with your crying; you do not know what you’ve done to garner his mistrust, but many times you’ve glimpsed the knife he keeps beneath his pillow, the cold blade glinting in the moonlight.

Often you wonder if he has a secret lover, and that is why he does not bother with you. You wake up sometimes and he is gone, but soon you realised that he would visit his concubines, especially after he had bred you. You would finish your shower, unable to wash off the feel that you were dirty, you were just an animal, a mindless thing to produce an heir for him, and he would be lounging in the antechambers of your quarters, ignoring your presence with the three harpies wrapped around him, whispering in his ears and caressing his moonlight skin. They accompanied him everywhere he wished, even in public, and to begin with, you felt humiliated that he would so explicitly show that you were not to his satisfaction.

Now, it just makes the solitude even worse.

You find solace in no one. More than once, you have walked in on the servants laughing behind your back, and as it became evident your husband was uninterested in you, they did not hide their mocking. The Baron’s other nephew you hardly saw, and the Baron himself terrified you: there was something in the way that he stared at you, his beady eyes glittering from where they were set deep within his putrid flesh, that made you feel more soiled than even after Feyd-Rautha took you.

So you remain isolated, speaking only when spoken to, drifting through the palace’s wide, dark hallways like a ghoul, a mourning spectre. You can barely remember your life before, just wisps and fleeting flashes of colour that ridicule rather than comfort you.

To Feyd, it is obvious who you are. A spy, commanded by his uncle to report every single one of his doings to you; he cannot slip up once around you, cannot reveal his weaknesses, that he is desperate to be loved, to be seen as someone whose only use is not war. He sees the way his uncle looks at you, hungry for information you do not have because he does not impart it, the way the Baron comments on you and the way you flinch at his words, pretending that you do not report to him.

Feyd is determined in his resolve to give nothing away. His uncle has held power over him since he was young, he refuses to give him even an inch over him now. He still has nightmares of it, which he wakes up from with his pale skin sheened in clammy sweat, clammy like the hands of his uncle.

Sometimes, he sees the tears in your eyes after he fucks you. The first time, he almost stopped, almost asked you where it hurt, but you turned away before he could, acting, always acting; acting when you smile graciously at him, acting when you ask him what his favourite type of blade is, what his favourite form of swordsmanship is. You are good at pretending, but of course you are - his uncle is the Baron, a man who bathes in power. No doubt he would get only the best of spies.

Tonight, you are not where you normally are. At this hour, you are usually asleep, or feigning it in the very least, curled up small on your side of the mattress, yet the bed is still made, the sheets unrumpled and smoothed down as they were this morning. Feyd thinks that maybe he might catch you reporting to his uncle, so he strides out of your shared chambers, pausing in the doorway to listen carefully; as a boy, he hunted in forests that have now been chopped down and industrialised, but he has maintained his keen ears long after the last wild plant on Giedi Prime’s surface choked on the fumes of pollution.

There’s a soft noise, barely perceptible, that echoes down the corridor to his right. Silently, he tracks it down the labyrinthine passages of the palace, servants scurrying out of his warpath, bowing their heads to him - he wonders if they too report to his uncle, if they travel now to his quarters to inform him of his beloved nephew’s whereabouts.

Feyd wishes he and Rabban were brothers first before rivals. Then he could have someone to rely on, someone who he trusted in this palace built on lies.

Pausing, Feyd cocks his head. You huddle in a crumpled heap at the end of the corridor, your knees hugged tightly to your chest, head low as if under a crushing weight. It occurs to him that maybe the Baron was displeased with your efforts to gain information and made it known to you - a pang of pity tugs at him, for he knows what his uncle’s wrath is like. At least you have been spared from the sole thing worse than that - the Baron’s thirst.

‘What are you doing, wife?’

Your head snaps up, Feyd-Rautha’s unfeeling voice kindling a rare burst of temper from you. Is it not evident to him what you are doing? Or is he just too blind to see the tears streaking down your cheeks? Your words are injected with venom when you speak, and you hope that it stings him for leaving you alone in this cold, dark place.

‘So now I am of concern to you?’

Feyd is taken aback by the indignant arch of your brows, the resentment displayed in your eyes. It takes him a moment to register the harshness lacing your voice - you have never addressed him in this way - and another to digest your words. There’s a bleakness in your wet, tear stained face as you stare up at him, and shock too, as if you did not expect yourself to speak against him this way.

Something clicks into place.

Feyd recognises that look in your eyes. He recognises it, because he’s seen it in the mirror a hundred times before; haunted, harrowed, lonely. He remembers nights when he trembled beneath the cold sheets of his bed, when he was small enough that he felt like he was drowning in the black satin, his eyes wide as the fabric seemed to wend around his limbs, tying him there as he lay fearful of everyone, fearful that his uncle would summon him. Even young, he was so terribly aware of not knowing who he could trust and who would turn to the Baron, bearing information like knives to split open his childish skin and spill his guts on the freezing stone floor.

It broke him. He is barely a shell of a sentient being, repressed emotions wreathing like ghosts around his frame, his eyes hollow, his heart decaying. In his fear, he was blinded, and he pushed you to the place where he had been all those years ago, so terribly, terribly alone - you are stronger than him, for lasting this long.

Sharp, plunging, dread sinks in his stomach, weighs down his soul; he has done unspeakable things to you, treated you like a dog, like a whore - worse. How can you look at him without hatred in your eyes, spite?

Bile rises in his throat, his heart seized by a dark, burning anger. He has done this to you, he has slashed your skin and left you bleeding, and yet all you did was try to please him. In an effort to save himself, he trampled you under foot; in order to keep you out, he left you surrounded by shadows. Feyd has never hated himself so much, has never despised who he has become with this much furor.

Slowly, he crouches before you. Eyes wide, you shrink away, misreading the direction of his rage, flinching when he reaches out a hand. Pressing your back against the wall behind you, you turn your head away from him, fear causing tears to spill down your cheeks: he sees the way you will the stone to swallow you up, knows the feeling.

‘Please don’t hurt me,’ you choke out, hands trembling uncontrollably.

Something deep within Feyd’s soul withers and dies at your words. Forcing his jaw to unclench, his hands to release the fists they held, he shoves down his anger. The fury is for later, for when he has made things right - for now it is you that is his priority. Too late, a voice whispers in his ears, too late, too late, too late -

Gods, he deserves to burn at the fucking stake for this. He deserves eternal hell for this, he deserves worse. He is a fool: a blind, blundering fool, stuffed to the brim with paranoia and cynicism.

He sucks in a breath. ‘I will not hurt you. You have my word, whatever it is worth to you. I - I have made an irredeemable mistake, I - ’

After his first sentence, you have not heard him. Tears of relief soak your face, and you whisper needless apologies for them; it is an arrow through his heart that you fear him so - yet the pain is where it is due, justifiable for the way he has shamed you, belittled you.

‘May I - may I touch you, my wife?’

You do not know why you nod in reply of your husband’s strange request, but the moment you do, strong arms pull you into a solid chest, and a sob leaves you - he is so warm, warm enough to banish the seeping cold embedded in your bones, warm enough to let your sorrow flow anew, soaking his shirt as your hands bunch in its fabric, so that if he is cruel enough to leave you here, at least he will have to fight to do so. You have not been held in a long time.

Each of your shuddering sobs is a knife blade twisting in Feyd’s spirit. He lets the pain wash over him, clings to the way you burrow into his arms, a kind creature in the embrace of a monster. At one point, in the throes of your crying, you beat at his chest, telling him that you hate him, and he takes it with a bowed head, stroking your hair and holding you tighter once you exhaust yourself; this is only a fraction of his atonement.

You fall asleep in his arms. He carries you back to your quarters, and only once the door is closed behind him does he let his tears mingle with yours. Keeping you cradled to his chest like a child, he pours a glass of water for you to drink in the morning, knowing you will be dehydrated; he sets it on your bedside table before laying you down on the mattress.

You don’t let go of him, even in your sleep. His heart clenches, tight in his chest, and he drops a kiss in your hair before lying down beside you.

He believes he will love you, if you will let him.

Consciousness leaks slowly into your mind, and you blink, squinting through the beam of light that filters in through the curtains. From your months spent here, you’ve realised that Giedi Prime’s atmosphere is normally churned up with violent storms and choked with pollution, so this ray of sun that falls against your pillow, warming your face is far from unwanted - nor is the pale forearm tucked around your waist, firmly so, but not trapping you either.

Your husband’s chest fits snugly against your back, his breath warm and steady against your skin; his fingers splay out across your stomach, gentle, communicating so many things that were left unsaid. Vaguely, you remember falling asleep, nestled against his chest, tears drying on your cheeks.

When you roll over, you’re unsurprised that he’s already awake. With blue eyes softened by the sunlight, he regards you, fingers settled at the small of your waist. Something clouds his gaze, and he shifts, propping himself up on his elbows.

‘I owe you an explanation.’

You wait silently, unperturbed by the way he clenches his jaw. He vowed to you last night that he would not hurt you, and you trust that. Wordlessly, his lips open, then close, and you patiently watch him, far too well acquainted with how this man struggles to let down his guard - even now, you cannot read the twisting of his features, the way his eyes squint as he looks at you.

‘I - I thought you were a spy sent by my uncle,’ he finally confesses. ‘My uncle… when I was younger, he,’

Reaching out, you cup his jaw in your hand, running your thumb along his cheekbone until he relaxes. You see the battle in his eyes, to let go, to tell you the knowledge that he thinks you deserve, but you see with it the years of hurt, of solitude. Something hopeful, something beautiful blossoms within you - the realisation that this wounded beast before you is someone that you could grow to love; you want him to bare his scars to you, those that are long healed and those that still seep with blood.

‘All in good time, Feyd,’ you assure him quietly.

He sighs, touches his lips against your palm. ‘I am sorry, my wife.’

Slipping your hand down to grip his shoulder, you lean closer towards him so you can kiss him. An anguished sound leaves him, and you see clearly how he realises that he has wronged you, how it pains him, and yet how the taste of you awakens something tender within him - you marvel at it, that it has survived, buried within him for so long. Perhaps he will let you love him.

Feyd is neither forward nor insatiable in the way he kisses you. In fact, he pulls away first, moving to get up from the bed despite the way your hands grip his shoulders, and you almost doubt that he wants you before you glimpse the longing in his eyes that lingers before he pushes it down. You wonder if this man knows how to make love or if he just knows how to fuck, you wonder if he feels the same molten feeling in his stomach that you feel and that is why his movements are tinged with nerves as he gently escapes your grasp. It is clear to you: he does not want to scare you.

‘Must you go?’ You ask, tugging at his fingers.

He tilts his head. ‘I don’t know if you want me here, after what I have inflicted upon you.’

A streak of bravery takes ahold of you. ‘Please, Feyd, I want you.’

You delight at the fire that ignites in his eyes upon your words. He wastes no time in returning to your side, dropping a sweet tasting kiss to your lips before taking your chin in his hand, eyes searching yours as he sits between your thighs.

‘Tell me if you want to stop,’ he says. ‘Yes?’

‘Yes,’ you echo, blood heating your cheeks.

Feyd kisses you again, giving you time to rescind your reply if you want, but you just tug at the hem of his shirt, drinking in his sculpted chest when he pulls the black cloth over his head. Delicately, he trails his lips down your skin as he undresses you, his broad hands warm where they encircle your waist, holding you flush to him as his calloused palms explore your body, skimming over your spine and caressing your breasts before settling on your thighs and pulling them open.

You’re terribly aware of how wet you are when his eyes settle on your pussy. Instinctively, your knees tip inwards, your face growing hot at the hunger in his gaze, but his broad shoulders block your legs from closing, followed closely by his hands which gently push them back open. He smiles at the blush high on your cheeks, rubbing his thumb over your ankle in order to put you at ease.

The sound you make when he pushes his fingers into your cunt and curls them almost makes Feyd moan. You tremble for him, bashful, and he can feel himself rock hard against the mattress, aching for the tight clamp of your velvet walls. He wants to bury himself between your thighs, and so he does, your sweet slick exquisite on his tongue - he presses kisses like butterflies to your thighs, your hips, worshipping you as his fingers pump in and out of you to the same pace as your heaving chest.

You look beautiful, gilded by the sunlight, lower lip trapped between your teeth, but he doesn’t miss the way you grip the sheets with one hand, the other clapped over your mouth, panting as he pleases you. Stroking your thigh, he pauses, licking your slick off his lips.

‘Let me hear you,’ he bids.

You blush again but obey him, tremors wracking your body as he sucks on your clit, laving his tongue over it until you throw your head back, eyes rolling as you come, your honeyed moans and hot release exquisite upon his senses. He wants more, needs more of the taste of you, but you tug at his shoulders, whining for his cock, and he’d rather die than deny you.

The way you say his name when he buries himself inside you sets his soul on fire. You look beautiful beneath him, shaking and whimpering from the hot pulse of his length, clawing at his shoulders until he wears red marks that he’s proud to bear, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you. It seems you cannot get enough of him, and Feyd is more than fine with that because he finds himself addicted to the feel of you under his hands, begging him for more.

Feyd remains entranced long after he comes inside you, with you, your cunt spasming around him. You draw close to him, intertwining your legs with his as he kisses your face, your neck, your chest, making sure he has not hurt you, making sure you are sated. Curling your fingers under his jaw, stopping him, you look him in the eye and smile before kissing him, and he finds himself mesmerised again by you.

He is certain you will let him love you. He is yours.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Feyd Fantasy Part 2

Baroness & Breeder

Label mature 18+

Summary

Feyd is becoming distracted he can't keep his hands off of you. Every chance he gets he sneaks you away to to satisfy his urges, he is addicted to your sex.

With his Baroness giving him physical pleasure as well as mental counsel the vitality begins to return to his deadened eyes.

Every one in the fortress notices his altered mood and behavior. The only one glaring at the change is his uncle. He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now day by day he hears news from his servants of Feyds brutality slipping away.

With the gladiatorial fights fast approaching it is imperative Feyd is his most ruthless to slaughter the warrior slaves and prove the Harkonnen Valor.

The Baron follows cues from one of Feyds servants to locate him when he can not be summoned.

When the Baron finds you together he secretly spies.

Watching a loving Feyd satisfy you on the table in the grand meeting hall instead of attending his fight training enrages the Baron.

He sees his control over Feyd slowly slipping away under your care. With his patience severed he regains control over him by force. He gives Feyd an ultimatum which leaves him no choice but to resubmit himsel to the Barons sadistic will.

Starts off passionate Ends with sexual angst

🚨 Slightly depraved smut 🚨

oral on sleeping female • fingering •clit play•panty tearing • sex on a table • sex in bondage•spanking•sex with a foreign object• orgasm controlled by device• male pleasuring self• male ejaculating on self • male dominance •ownership markings•orgasms •squirting•cream pies.

🫦Smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia

⚔️ Feyd Fantasy Series ⚔️

Part 1•Part 2• Part 3•Part 4•Part 5• Part 6• Part 7

⌛️ Extreme Dune Inaccuracies ⏳ 💝Softie approved (non violent)

I received so many requests that excited me it prolonged the writing 😭 🫶🏻

Feyd Fantasy III will continue the other requests TBA this week 💞 I love to entertain you so much 🥰

Inspo: ⚔️ Multiple anonymous requests combined:

-Feyds weakness for reader  -He keeps her with collar hickies -Soft breast play  -More sci-fi sex toy -Feyd Dom vs her spoiled/opinionated Bene Gesserit. -Feyd in angst -Feyd masturbating  -Squirting in Feyds mouth -Sex while tied up *They are all hot ty for reqs 🤤🙏🏻

Baroness & Breeder

Feyd initially assumed after the wedding ceremony he would only spend the first night with you. After torturing you and defiling you to his gratification he would discard you and return to his pleasure slaves. He had only one objective to complete after all, securing his heir as the future Baron of Giedi Prime.

His preconceived notions perished the night he consummated the marriage. Your kindness and beauty beguiled him. Your ability to make him feel loved and nurtured satisfied what he deeply craved the most.

Feyd formed a physical attachment to you that slowly began to develop into something more. You were terrified of his brutality on your wedding night but slowly began understand his afflictions. Feyd has gone through decades of trauma to render him so psychologically damaged. You begin to nurture him and care for him like he has never known. It radically changes his mentality.

Being a young Bene Gesserit in training arranged to marry the psychotic Feyd Rautha, tested your resolve. But you proved your worth by securing his heir and the future kwisatz Haderach for the Order

Day by day your powers finally begin to awaken. You use them to mend Feyd further. You test your limits at times, changing his temperament with a calming touch or sending him feelings of passion and love in a single kiss

Each time he has sex with you the energy exchange that keeps him in a constant state of obsession and lust with you is entirely out of your control. He dominates you sexually.

As the gray morning light of Giedi Prime fills his bed chamber Feyd awakens from a vivid dream. You are on your knees in the throne room sucking his cock. He groans smiling as he stretches and opens his eyes. He never remembers having dreams before he met you now they are unceasing.

He turns on his side already hard as he watches you sleep. You are resting peacefully even after the rounds he put you through last night.

He desires your sex constantly. Any where at anytime, he does not tire of it. Not merely to satisfy his urges, but to feel the intimacy and passion on the deepest level with you. He can not find sex like this anywhere on demand which is why he is infatuated with you.

He reaches his hand and caresses his thumb down your jaw. He watches you softly breathe, your eyelids shift as you dream. His eyes wander lower, you are completely naked with the sheet resting on your hip.

He pulls it down to expose you. His breathing increases. He becomes aroused just from the sight of your genitalia. He knows you are becoming his weakness.

The infatuation began the moment he fully sheathed himself inside of you on the wedding night. He experienced a pleasure he had never known when he felt your tight walls milk his cock. As if bewitched he has been unable to stop the sexual thoughts forming in his mind and in his dreams about you.

He gently pushes your shoulder guiding you to lay flat on your back. He settles himself between your parted legs. Seeing you aren’t aroused he spits on his fingers and slicks his saliva into your folds. He is needy for you.

He is supposed to be getting ready for fight training, but he can’t concentrate on anything until he has you. He lowers his face between your thighs methodically licking your folds from your entrance to your clit .

You moan in your sleep, and he grabs the flesh of your inner thighs squeezing them before spreading your legs wider apart. He pushes his tongue into you tantalizing your core trying to awaken you.

Only a whimper escapes your lips as you dream. He gives you more, delicately guiding his two fingers inside of you. He pushes them in and pulls them back out in a soft rhythm. You become wetter as he increases his speed. The squishing sounds as he fingers you hardens his cock solid.

You finally awaken from a dream of him having sex with you. He had your wrists and ankles bound and tied to the bed posts.

When you look down and see he’s already pleasuring your folds you moan from the feeling. You look up to his mirror on the ceiling. He has one arm across your pelvis holding you down as his elbow of the other moves back and forth fucking his fingers into you.

He has already worked you up to an orgasm. You grab the back of his neck and pull his face directly into your pussy. He enjoys your dominance groaning as his lips mash into your clit. You begin moaning from the feeling “Feyd I’m so close” you cry out.

He makes his tongue work faster against your clit. You feel the familiar tightness in your core as you moan for him. “Feyd make me cum” you beg. He sucks your clit into his mouth and pumps his fingers furiously inside of you as you orgasm.

He removes his fingers and latches his lips on your entrance. His tongue coaxes your arousal and you squirt into his mouth as you cum. You moan looking down at him the feeling is so pleasurable. He gazes back into your eyes. You watch how they change as he drinks all the liquid released from your orgasm.

The look in his eyes is devious. He rises up from between your legs and hooks his hand around your hip. With his strength he easily flips you in one swift motion onto your belly.

He spreads your legs wide and lines himself up in between. He repeatedly slaps his heavy cock on your cheeks making himself harder preparing to enter you. “Feyd please be gentle” you plead with him. He smirks to himself pressing his cock to your entrance. He is able to be gentle until he orgasms and then he will thrust into you relentlessly until he cums.

Fight Training

The Baron speaks with his advisors in the morning about the upcoming gladiatorial fights around the massive table in the meeting hall. When the assembly concludes he uses his anti gravity device to go with the men of court to watch Feyd in combat training.

He is proud of the accomplishments of his nephew Feyd, he is the Barons favorite over his older brother Glossu Rabban Harkonnen.

After making several public embarrassments to the family name the Baron had Feyds brother Rabban shipped to Arrakis. He gives him one last chance to prove his worth controlling their families most lucrative venture, harvesting spice.

Though ominous and foreboding the Baron is an obesely over weight man. He can no longer walk without the assistance of integrated technology to reduce the burden of his weight. He has an antigravity device implanted into his spine thick tubes connected on two small orbs. The orbs float behind him carrying the chemicals which enable him to defy gravity.

They arrive to the second story of the courtyard in Feyds quarters. When looking down into the training pit the first floor it is deserted. A low murmur begins between his advisors as to the where about of Feyd. Always eager to show off his combat knife skills Feyds absence is jarring.

The Baron immediately goes to Feyds chambers and finds them empty as well. Feyds male Page appears at the entrance hearing the commotion. “Well where is he?” The Baron snaps “You are to be at his side at all times have you forgotten your purpose” The Baron is fuming at the Pages insolence.

The Page trembles knowing the truth and averts his eyes from the Barons Gaze “Spit it out or I cut it out” the Baron says coldly. He hovers into the young man’s personal space. The Page knows both Harkonnen men will readily slit his throat.

He divulges enough to not be dispatched by either “He and his lady are in the great halls of the fortress. I’m not sure where but he wanted to show her the grandeur of Geidi Prime” the Baron squints in anger how idiotic at a time like this with so much at stake to impress his new bride. His scowl deepens because Feyd above all neglected his training. For that he will be severly punished.

The Great Meeting Hall

After touring your fifth great hall with Feyd it is readily apparent his family has amassed a great fortune with power and control over the populous of Geidi Prime.

He pushes open the large black inscribed doors of the meeting hall. There are thrones at opposite ends raised on platforms with stairs. The high floor to ceiling windows display the industrial cityscape. A grand table that can seat fifty people occupies the majority of the floor space. Everything is void of color, only stone marble, black and granite can be seen in the gigantic space.

You walk over to the throne on your left “is this one yours?” Your voice echos in the large hall. Feyd nods, his hands are clasped behind his back. He follows you around the room as you study the furniture and the giant painting of his uncle and then of himself there is a portait of a third Harkonnen male next to Feyd but he interrupts your thoughts before you can ask the identity.

“This is where the most important decisions are made on Geidi Prime, as well as another secret room with the cones of silence” he adds.

“What are cones of silence? “ you ask. The words are somewhat familiar to you.

“They are able to mute all sounds around them, only the two inside can hear each other.”

He answers as he imagines himself fucking you inside of one until he makes you scream in pleasure as loud as he possibly can. He stops walking and stands behind you.

You've paused to study something that caught your eye. His eyes wander your form up to the beauty of your side profile. He can’t help himself as his hand trails down your shoulder. “Do these things in impress you?” He asks. You finally look over your shoulder at him.

You had been mesmerized studying an ancient Harnokken sword on display. It is carved with hieroglyphs that date back centuries. It represents how his entire culture revolves around war and greed . “Yes ” you say addressing his question to be kind. You turn back to looking at the sword again. Deep inside you are longing for your home world.

You remember the beautiful gardens, waterfalls, flowers, and colors of life. You especially miss the large atrium where you would read for hours basking in the afternoon sunlight. The warm sun would kiss your skin as it filtered through the glass dome.

You would lay on a spacious out door ottoman with your fellow Bene Gesserit sisters. Honing your Bene Gesserit skills in the palatial gardens seemed like a dream now.

Feyd sees you lost deep in thought and softly grabs your chin “What would impress you more” he asks with intent. He knows you aren’t fond of the ways on Geidi Prime. You don’t have an answer so you remain quiet.

He knows one thing he has that impresses you on end. He gently pulls you into a kiss. His bottom lip rubs softly with yours as his warm tongue fills your mouth.

He ignites your passions and you place your hands on his jaw. You lean your head with his as you kiss him in return. You want to focus on the carnal and forget your distant memories. He presses himself against you and the heat of his body claims you.

He turns walking you back as he kisses your lips until you are met against the grand meeting hall table. He sits on the edge and moves to the center. He rises up on his knees beckoning you to come.

You sit on the edge and crawl to him. Now both in the center his lips find yours again hungrier than before. You feel his teeth bite into your lower lip and tug. It arouses you as he releases your lip and does it again. Then he envelops his mouth completely onto yours. You feel the hardness of his cock as he presses it into your thigh.

He wants to defile you on this table. He smirks at the high disrespect to the Harkonnen dynasty he is about to commit. Soon this will all belong to him so what does it matter. He pushes you back to lie flat against the stone slab. You gaze up above him to the metallic barbs of the chandelier until his face obscures your view.

His hands start at your knees grabbing the hem of your gown and sliding it to your hips.

His hands clutch one side of your panties tearing them apart making you gasp. He tears the other side and rips them clean from your body.

You watch as he sits back on his heels between your parted legs. He unhooks the clasp of his pants and pulls his thick veiny cock out. The contrast of the black fabric against his large hardened pale cock is striking.

He slaps his pink tip on your clit to edge you.

You wince at each tap of his cock as it makes your bundle of nerves jump. He slides his hand down your thigh to meet your hip and holds you steady. He lines himself up and thrusts into you so roughly you have no time to adjust to the feeling.

Your vision goes hazy as your back arcs from the table. His penetration shocked you senseless. His large cock expands parts of you that you never knew existed. He watches how your face changes from pain to pleasure and back again as you try and relax around the girth of his size.

He wants to spur you on and leans down pressing his chest to yours. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck titling your head so he can speak softly into your ear.

”You are so beautiful to me” he says as his eyes study your side profile. He traces his thumb on your lower lip as you pant for him. “So desperate for my cock, the way you’d let me fuck you on this table you’d let me do anything to you” a moan escapes your lips as he shushes you “Just lay still and look pretty while I fuck you until you stretch open for me” you moan louder at his words.

He begins to roughly thrust inside of you like he wants to posses you. His cock hits your core at a dangerous pace. Your breasts bounce with every push of his hips. He is already becoming lost in pleasure loving the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his throbbing cock.

You arc your back down flat to steady yourself against his pace. “You…feel too good on my cock” he rasps out as he finally hits the thrust that stretches you to around his size. He stares down into your eyes completely transfixed by the physical connection between your bodies.

Unbeknownst to you both the Baron has finally narrowed his search. After spying into several halls down the corridor his servants waves him over finally finding the one you are in. The Baron peeks through the discreet opening made by one of the nimble servant. There on the middle of the table in the grand meeting hall he sees Feyd fucking you ruthlessly.

Your are constantly being pounded into the stone slab table by his strength. His hips begins slapping harder against you as he thrust between your legs. You hold out until the familiar tightening in your abdomen begins. Your moans start to fill the air.

As your walls clench around him it makes his cock feel incredible inside of you. Your eyes stare up at him, pleading and begging for release.

He sees the neediness in your eyes and brings his hand between your bodies touching your clit. His finger tips are wet by your arousal as he slicks them expertly in firm circles around your bundle of nerves.

It sends shocks though your core that radiate your entire body “YES please Feyd just like that“. You are unable to string together another sentence as you orgasm with him strumming your clit as hard as he can with his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.

His mouth opens feeling your walls milking his cock from your orgasm. He pins your wrists next to your head and plows into you even harder. His pace falters as he orgasms. He gasps as he paints rope after rope of hot cum into your cervix.

He rests down on his elbows laying his full weight on you panting. He kisses your lips passionately with his final slow thrusts. His breath shudders into your mouth as he feels his cock empty inside of you.

He plants soft kisses around your face as he comes down. Each one more tender and loving than the last. His heart feels revived when he’s with you. He cradles your head in his hands staring into your eyes. You smile at him and he smiles back, it isn’t like his sinister ones before, this one is radiant you see the kindness in his eyes.

His uncle spying on the entire moment becomes enraged : not at the fact Feyd missed training, not at the fact he satisfied his carnal urges on the sacred meeting hall table, but at the fact Feyd put a woman’s pleasure before his own. The Baron turns away in disgust his patience is severed.

He raised Feyd with enough brutality and greed to become a ruthless tyrant. Now he sees every aspect of the brutally he instilled in Feyd quickly being stripped away by a female. He never thought this was possible.

He will take out two problems with one swift action: Punishing Feyd by having you removed from his presence entirely.

Family Secrets

You and Feyd take time to have a meal together in the dining hall. He enjoys his meat rare and bloody. You usually avoid looking at his plate due to nausea, but tonight you are having an unusual craving to bite into the blood soaked meat.

He sees you staring at his plate hungrily after you’ve finished your soup. He smiles and cuts you a piece bringing it to your lips. The scent of iron is overwhelming, you readily collect the piece of meat in your mouth.

You chew ravenously before stopping yourself and chewing regularly again. It’s like the color returns to your vision as your body absorbs it. Feyd knows why you are craving it and cuts more pieces for you to eat but remains silent on the topic.

Instead he pries into what things you miss that would entertain you in the fortress. When you mention your love of books he says he will have his Page take you to the fortress library the next day. Feyd knows he will be preoccupied back on schedule with his uncles plans. He will be unable to spend as much time with you.

By the time you and Feyd return to his chambers it is late evening. His Page rushes him and pulls him aside to make him aware of his uncles fury.

“The Baron showed up unexpectedly to observe your fight training today. When he realized you were not here he went into a rage. I believe because it is your birthday as well as the killing of your 100th gladiator which makes him more invested than usual.”

Feyd understands the importance of the events to his Uncle and knows he will be under a more watchful eye.

Feyd joins you in his chamber. You are already on his balcony at the railing staring up at the moon. It is white with gray swirls of clouds all over it, asteroids scatter across the expanse the sky in front of it .

Feyd approaches you and places his hand on your hip joining you together. You look over at him and smile. His pale skin always glows in the moonlight. “I think my uncle is angry with me” he admits. “Why would he be angry?” you ask.

He and his uncle have a complicated family dynamic. Feyd looks up at the moon. “I’m his successor, I must do everything he asks to inherit Giedi Prime and I am beginning to follow my own interests. Lately I have been… preoccupied” he says as he looks over at you smiling.

“Why are you here with him, where are your parents Feyd?” his face turns to panic he quickly looks away to hide it but you clearly saw his reaction. He walks back inside ending the conversation leaving you on the balcony.

You follow him in stunned by his reaction to a simple question. He is already undressing clearly avoiding the topic for sex. He approaches you fully naked his cock semi erect. He pulls your gown off crumpling it to the floor and making you step out of your panties. Before you can ask more questions he’s already kissing you. He’s so quick it’s catching you off guard.

He lowers his face to your neck and licks a column up your throat. He begins to bite his black teeth into your flesh sealing his lips and sucking new bruises to mark you.

The previous collar of bruises only faded yesterday. You whine to him “Feyd please I just had a beautiful gown made to wear to your gladiator event. All of my Bene Gesserit sisters are going to attend. If you mark me it will show” He releases his lips from you and grabs the front of your throat.

He stares intensely into your eyes and you see his psychotic gaze return “Whose throat is this?” He asks. A chill runs up your spine suddenly feeling his dominance “Yours” you muster up. “Who do you belong to?” You feel a bit of defiance rising as a Baroness until he grabs a handful of your pussy.

“You! its yours” you yelp. You want him to return to gentle. “Does my pet need to be trained back into obedience?” He asks rhetorically. “No I’m being good!” You whine.

He looks you over his temper rising thinking of how many little rules you’ve been breaking. “You are becoming a spoiled pet again listen to to how you whine” He collects your arousal on his fingertips and brings them up to you mouth. He makes you suck one of his fingers in to you mouth at a time. You thoroughly suck them from his knuckles to his finger tips. “Good girl” he says voice faltering from arousal. “ If you wine again I will punish you.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his solid cock. You gasp he is so hard. He wraps his hand around yours making you pump his shaft as he goes back to sucking bruises on your throat.

You don’t say another word to deny him his pleasure.

He continues to have you pump his shaft as he completes your collar marking you as his.

He removes your hand from his cock and pulls you to the bed. When your thighs meet the edge he bends you over face down on the mattress. You turn your head to the left.

You watch as he grabs a length of rope from his sex toy table. He stands directly behind you and waits. Knowing what a spoiled pet you are you will complain before he even does anything. “But Feyd I was good” you wine.

You fell right into his trap “Tsk tsk you whine yet again a light punishment will take that right out of your voice.” He loves to tie you up because unlike most when tied you continue to squirm and struggle which excites him.

He places your arms across your lower back in an “X” binding them together . When he’s finished he gives your right bottom cheek a nice slap “Climb on the bed”he commands. You stand and he pushes you back down “On your belly” he snaps.

You lift your legs but without your arms you struggle. You try using your navel to slide but it catches against the sheet. Feyd slaps your cheeks again you cry out “I said climb!” He enjoys watching you spread your self open as you struggle, he becomes aroused “ If you can’t climb up I’m going to fuck you ruthlessly” he says. He strokes his cock watching you from behind.

You really try to push your body up on the bed. Finally you hook your knee and slide on your chest forward and pull your other leg up. You roll onto your back with your hands tied and let out a light laugh because you made it.

Feyd loves nothing more than fucking you as hard as he can. He didn’t think you could make it now he has to be gentle.

You giggle looking into his eyes seeing the defeat. He climbs on top of you and rests back on his heels. Feyd picks you up around your torso and lines you up over his lap.

He slowly pulls you down onto his cock and you moan for him. With your hands tied behind your back you feel helpless as he guides his length inside of you.

Using your tied arms as leverage he forces you to settle on the base of his shaft. You cry out as he stretches your clit around his girth. You rock and clench on him tying to adjust to his size. He is so deep it feels like he is piecing your cervix. He slowly begins taking you up and down his length.

You moan out his name as his large cock squeezes through your tight walls. He works you at a gentle pace until his cock swells stretching you wide, you feel his shaft start throbbing. He wants to cum. He slips his cock all of the way out as you gasp. He places you face down on the bed your pussy is completely in the air.

“Feyd pleas—-“ you stop yourself from whining as he pushes his cock through your entrance “ uhhh Feyd” his cock enters you deliciously. He grabs the top of your cheeks and rails into you with your hands tied behind your back. Your pussy smacks against him as you make depraved moaning sounds. Each thrust that jolts your body sends you closer to an orgasm. You are wound so tight you can’t breathe.

You hear him growl as his hips stutter and you cum in unison. He pounds your walls as they milk his cock. He lets out a choked off moan. He will never get used to how pleasurable the sensation is. A shiver runs down his spine as he slips his cock out of you. He leans back grabbing a knife from the sex toy table. He cuts your hands free.

You let them fall at your sides on the bed as you pant heavily. He fucked every thought out of your head.

He presses a button on the side of his bed that turns all the room lights off filling it with moonlight from the balcony. He gets under the sheet and beckons you to come to him. You wearily climb and plop down on his chest. He hopes he distanced and distracted you enough to never ask about his family again.

Remote Pleasure

The next morning Feyd awakens back into his routine. Looking over at you in bed he sees your back is to him. He has no time to pleasure you, he slowly trails his finger tips down your spine instead and leaves you to rest. His uncle has summoned him to the meeting hall after his fight training.

He enters his decontamination chamber to sanitize his body and then cleanse his mouth. He puts on his chest plate with light fighting gear. He pushes open the large chamber doors closing them quietly behind him to let your rest.

He descends the stairs to the fighting pit. His sparring partner Ghul and his barb men look up and hail his return. Ghul chides him. “Blessings of the ancient ways the great Feyd Rautha is not defiling his new wife and will be able to spar today” he and the barb men collectively laugh and cheer.

“I defeat you without effort every time Ghul this time should be no different, as for my barb men stand around as usual while I do all the fighting what use are you to me?” Feyd smirks taunting them.

Feyd will fight in the arena with his nine barb men at his side. They are skilled fighters sworn to protect his life. They throw and attach hooked barbs into his opponents flesh. They pull them back or weaken the attacks depending on how well it helps Feyd Routha secure a triumphant victory.

Ghul and Feyd prepare to fight with blunted knives to keep his reflexes sharp. They get into formation encircling each other to parry and attack.

You awaken from a dream of Feyd winning the fights holding his knife triumphantly in the air.

You turn and find the bed is empty Feyd has gone. You hear the clanging of knives just beyond the doors. He is below on the first floor in his courtyard training pit. You get out of bed and fill the large stone basin with warm water and bathe your body then rinse your face and mouth.

Your wrap in one of Feyds black fabric robes and explore his room. This is the only time you have been left unattended.

You know he has his knife collection in one of the giant locked display cases but your mind has been burning with curiosity to know what could be in the other.

You stand infront of the mystery case and hold your hand around the lock. You run your finger down the key opening it is a rectangle with 3 prongs.

You look over to his knife case. Dangling out of its lock is a ring with another key of that same description. You rush and remove the keys from the knife case and bring them to the mysterious display case.

The key successfully fits. As it hinges open you are shocked by the contents. Filled top to bottom in neatly organized rows there are; masks, whips, paddles, spiked collars, leashes, cock rings, leather restraints, blind folds and things you cannot even identify yet.

Your eyes grow weary scanning and processing all of the sexually depravity he has participated in. There are vials of liquids and tinctures. You see a familiar glowing color liquid you believe he has used on you before.

Assuming they are all for sex purposes you open the vial and place one drop on your finger. You seal it replacing it back. You take your covered finger and press it on your clit. When it begins pulsing you are certain it is the same one he used to soften you for sex before.

Your ears tingle as you realize the sound of the swords have stopped for quite sometime . You quickly lock the display case and return the key in the lock of the other just the way he had it. You hurry to the basin room and stand against the counter looking in the mirror fixing your hair.

Feyd returns pushing the large chamber doors open just at that moment. You let out a breath you weren’t caught. Your Bene Gesserit intuition is increasing each day.

You watch him remove his chest plate. He comes and clings to you holding you around your waist.

He is sweaty and hot exerted from his training.

Looking in the reflection he stares at the two of you together. Your radiant skin shines in comparison to his pale whiteness.

The toxicity of centuries on Giedi Prime has made all inhabitants hairless and pigment-less. He kisses your temple then strips completely naked to use the decontamination chamber.

You watch as he enters and locks himself inside. He presses his hands to the wall and steps his legs apart. Bursts of steam spray every inch of his body coating him in antimicrobial soap. A ring descends from the ceiling he lifts his hands above his head. The ring lowers spraying each row of his body from head to toe.

He wipes the water From his face as all the instruments lock away. Hot hair fills the shower drying him completely. Feyd steps out form the chamber looking brand new. You are awe struck using only the water basin to bathe.

He walks through his main chamber completely naked. You follow to watch his perfectly muscled figure walk as his cock swings. He presses a button on the wall that releases a hidden panel it ejects a stream of black out fits on a rod. He skims a few before settling on a high collared black one. He presses a button at the end of the rod and they all stack back into the hidden panel.

His muscular white body is stunning you can’t stop staring at his small waist and especially his long cock. As he gets dressed you become aroused as you watch him.

Once he’s fully clothed he comes and kisses your lips to leave. But you hold his hand tugging him to stay. “My uncle has summoned me, I do not know what he intends to meet about but I do not want to upset him.”

He is looks down at you finally noticing you wearing his robe. He smiles as he opens the front to reveal your breasts. He begins softly massaging them in his hands getting distracted as his fingers find your nipples. He pinches and pulls at them sending shocks to your core.

You look into his eyes as you begin to pant. You are getting wet as he plays with your sensitive buds “I want to soak my cock inside of you …but I cannot miss this meeting.” He says as he look back into your pleading eyes. An idea forms in his mind and he smiles mischievously.

“Come” he says taking your hand. He helps you to lie back on the bed. You watch as he goes to his knife cabinet removing the key to open what you can confirm is his kink cabinet. A lump forms in your throat already knowing the contents but everything he does has pleasured you intensely thus far. You secretly anticipate what he will do to you next.

He retrieves a few items and returns to sits on the bed next to you. In his hand is a gold sphere and two rings. One ring has a glowing green dot the other has a white glowing dot “I can not please you now but this will do the job very well until I return” he says with a sinister grin. He motions for you to take off your robe.

Once naked he has you lay on your back with your knees bent, he pushes them apart. He rests the golden sphere at your entrance and pushes it with two fingers until your walls sucks it in. A light sound of pleasure escapes your lips It feels heavy inside as it slowly sinks all the way to your cervix. He quickly puts the gold ring with the white dot on your finger.

“When you orgasm, use the ring on your finger to draw the sphere out or it will start all over.” He smiles wickedly as he says it. Thinking of you actually enduring an immediate second orgasm with this device. He will have to rescue you from a pleasure so great it will render you brainless. You nod smiling back at him you always obey his commands now.

He puts the other golden ring with the glowing green dot on his finger. He softly taps the gold band until the green dot begins blinking and then he waits. When the sphere warms and senses your vitals the green dot on his ring turns solid green.

He rubs around the gold band entirely with his finger and the sphere begins to roll up and down in side of your body like a pushing cock. You toss your head back and deeply moan as your body covers in chills.

The feeling is so new and intense you begin heavily panting losing all your thoughts. The sphere expands you at separate times internally . You begin to moan unending and you want to cum from the pleasure. “Feyd!” Is all you can cry out unable to even think.

His cock twitches. He has set it on the highest setting to get a preview of how the sphere affects your body. He already wants to ejaculate over navel as you cum but he has no time at all. He quickly rolls his thumb on the ring so the intensity is at its lowest level. The sphere slowly spins in place at your cervix. You are able to think again.

He leans over you and kisses your mouth “I will play with you while I am away I will make you cum and I will be ready to make you cum again when I return” you are shivering as you nod.

He kisses your forehead and rubs his thumb against his ring. It begins to roll up and down inside of you slowly. You gasp and close your eyes enjoying the feeling. He departs while you are distracted in bliss. If he looks back he will stay and fuck you.

He pulls the doors closed behind him hearing you begin to softly moan. He shudders from arousal. He looks at his ring it is still solid green. He knows when the dot on his ring turns from green to red you are having an intense orgasm. He has a a look of pure contentment on his face as he heads off to meet his uncle.

When he arrives at the large inscribed black doors of the grand meeting hall it is flanked by two soliders. They open the doors for him, Feyd enters.

His uncle is seated at the head of the enormous meeting table and upon seeing Feyd immediately begins yelling and chastising his recent actions. Instead of sitting at the meeting table Feyd climbs the stairs up to the platform and sits on his throne.

He tunes out his uncles ranting far more enthralled to play with his ring. He puts one leg over the armrest and his elbow on the other. He rests back in his throne and slides his thumb across the gold band increasing the thrusts inside of you to the maximum.

He smiles tilting his head back in wicked satisfaction knowing the sphere is railing your walls with pleasure right now. You have been enduring the highest setting for about 40 seconds and he knows you are falling apart about to cum.

The dot suddenly turns red and his eyes light up knowing at this moment you are having the most intense orgasm in his chamber. When he thinks about how you are squirting all over his bed his cock gets so hard he palms himself trying to calm down but is unable to. His breathing increases as he thinks of making an excuse to depart the meeting and go fuck you. He is charged with too much sexual arousal.

“FEYD RAUTHA HARKONNEN!” His uncles voice suddenly booms at him from the steps leading up to his throne. Feyd quickly sits up realizing he’s missed the entire first half of his uncles tirade, his cock begins to soften as he tries to calm his breathing. His uncle floats from the the bottom of the stairs directly into Feyds face using his anti gravity device

“You are losing your entire focus due to her influence! The gladiatorial fights are paramount! Even though we drug the warriors and poison your blades you must still fight and put on a valiant show. We need the people to think you are worthy of becoming Emperor! ”

Feyds eyes glare into his uncles. Only he and a select few others know this dark secret. Feyd can truly fight and would enjoy shedding blood without the need of weakening his opponents. But his uncle knows Feyds ascension to become Baron is far too valuable to take such a risk.

The Baron saw great potential in Feyd from a young age, preferring him to his older brother Rabban. When Feyds mother was brutally murdered the Baron took stewardship of both boys.

The Baron could clearly see the path ahead of him. One day, a Harkonnen would be Emperor. Not himself, and no spawn of his loins. But a Harkonnen.

The Baron knew it would not be the raging older Glassu Rabban but the younger calculated Feyd Rautha. There was a sharpness and ruthlessness to Feyd that proved to the Baron he was the worthy successor of the Harkonnen dynasty.

Which is why the Baron tells Feyd of his plans to have you removed from his presence. He can not let anything interfere with his grooming of Feyd to become a malevolent Emperor. He wants the marriage political, cold, and lifeless. Feyds baroness and breeder without influence.

“Your wife will be removed from your quarters immediately and you will no longer be permitted see her. She will attend your birthday and the gladiatorial fights for ceremonial purposes of course but after that she will be relocated out of the fortress entirely”

Feyds voice drops almost to a growl as he glares at an uncle in disbelief “How long will she be removed from me?” He asks deliberately. He narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side with an eerie coldness as he awaits the answer.

“Until she births your heir of course! After that you will never have need to see her again” the Baron says it with a wicked smile.

Feyds black teeth grit so hard they click.

“Your pleasure slaves will be sent to satisfy your lust, soon you will forget about her. Any female can take her place” the Baron says it off handedly as he floats back down to the meeting hall table.

Feyd slowly rises from his throne and balls his hands into fists. He clenches his jaw so hard he has to force his lips from baring his black teeth.

The insatiable desire to finally murder his uncle overwhelms all of his senses as he takes two steps down from his throne. Feyd is ready to take the Baron life. Ripping the thick cable from his anti gravity device and wrapping it around the Barons fat neck, strangling him until his eyes pop out from their orbits. Before he takes another step his rational returns he can not go through with that plan.

He will become Baron but never be honored as Emperor. His people may even revolt against him at the start of his rule. He will upset the great houses and his ascension may even be overturned to his older brother Rabban, after all it wouldn’t be the first family member he’s killed. Feyd desires gaining complete power as emperor above all else it is too deeply engrained in his psyche.

He begins to formulate a way to have both. He will fast track his ascension to the throne by murdering his uncle in a way can not be traced back to him. He will keep his false honor in tact.

The Library

After your remove the sphere from your body with the ring you lay back on the bed panting and shivering. It made your mind shift away from reality, which you did not think was possible. You lost your ability to move after you orgasmed. You lay on the soaked sheets realizing you should will yourself to get up.

You rinse the sphere and place it with the ring on Feyds sex toy table at the foot of his bed.

You use his decontamination chamber to clean your body and get dressed. You push open the main doors to leave the chamber. Feyds Page is waiting as instructed. “Na Baroness I have been ordered to escort you, where would you like to go?” You smile as you answer “The library please.”

After finding the main corridor of the fortress the Page brings you to the large red library doors and bows leaving your presence. He waits near by incase you have further need of his assistance.

You push the large red doors open and step inside. The library is enormous. The only room with color, red designed rugs cover the expanse of the floor. The bookshelves are carved into stone walls reaching all the way to the ceiling. The room is three stories high. There are stairs and balconies to reach the higher levels.

The couches are like lay down beds soft and squishy accented with red pillows. You press your hand into the black fabric seat. It is so spongy and perfect to curl up in. There are orbs you can tap on throughout the space if you need more light.

You take an orb in your hand and it begins to glow. You use it to head to the section marked H. You scan your fingers along the shelves with a mission until you find what you are looking for. Harkonnen Dynasty Lineage.

You have a burning desire to find out about Feyds biological parents and how he came to live with his uncle. You dare not ask Feyd you have tried once and his response was viscerally painful. He is well reserved on topics regarding his upbringing.

Another mystery is discovering the identity of the second male Harkonnen in the portrait of the meeting hall. You take your orb and curl up on a couch. As you sit it conforms to your shape and you smile feeling at ease. You begin to read.

After a few chapters you discover Feyds paternal last name is Rabban. He was born on the Harkonnen planet of Lankiveil. He has an older brother named Glassu Rabban, which means he has surpassed his older brother in being chosen as the next Baron. This aligns with the photo of the second male Harkonnen in the meeting hall.

You read two more chapters until you come to the section of his parents. His father is Abulurd Rabban your eyes suddenly skip ahead startled to read the ruling of Feyds mother Emmi Rabbans death: Matricide. Your eyes widen in fear understanding one of her own sons killed her. Your apprehension grows as you continue to read further.

Suddenly the doors of the library slam open you jump up startled. Two guards enter with the Barons Lord in Waiting “Na Baroness you are being relocated” he says flatly. He and the guards escort you form the library.

Feyds Agony

Feyd leaves the meeting hall and sprints to his chambers. His Page stops him as he regains his breath at the doors before he can go inside “Na Baron they have taken your Baroness away I have witnessed it with my own eyes” Feyd pushes him aside and bursts into his chamber. All of your things are missing, the bed is still un-made from the morning, you are no where in sight.

He still searches the room not ready to face his fears and finally looks to the balcony. He sees through the sheer curtain there is a figure standing at the banister.

He parts the curtains to find his pleasure slave Vîces. A Giedi Prime woman bald and pale. She smiles at him and bends over the railing wearing only a black corset her backside covered in lashes on full display to him. A tray of whips at her side. She has obviously been summoned as a gift from his uncle.

Vîces especially enjoys being afflicted with punishment when Feyd is furious. She has missed his spankings so much she is already aroused seeing the rage in his eyes. He slowly picks up a whip from the tray dragging the coil he twists and untwists it to snap correctly.

He grips the handle tighter before his wrist goes limp and he stops. “Leave my chambers” he says quietly. He feels not rage but another emotion that is far worse in his chest. Warm liquid brims at his eye line, and he touches the corner releasing a tear he stares at his finger tips in disbelief. She is shocked at his uncharacteristic behavior and quickly puts on her robes and leaves.

Feyd climbs back into his bed resting on his stomach he feels defeated. The sheets still smell like you and he presses his face to them remembering only an hour ago you had an orgasm there. He shifts on his back and unclasps his pants freeing his cock. He wants to feel anything over this emotional pain. He separates his shirt open and closes his eyes thinking of you. He remembers the way his cock splits you apart, how he wanted to please you when he returned.

He pulls a bottle of lubricant from his night stand and coats his palm. He begins slowly stroking his hardening length. He groans in pleasure thinking about your face, he thrusts into his hand harder. He remembers the sounds you that escape your lips when he makes you cum. His abs tighten and his cock begins to twitch. He pumps his shaft faster until he feels that all too familiar throbbing. He bites his lower lip as he ejaculates.

He opens his mouth and groans as warm cum spills down his shaft and onto his hand. He feels the aching feeling forming in his chest again but refuses to accept it.

He keeps pumping his shaft with his own cum forcing himself to remain hard. He roars loudly and fucks his hand brutally. The slapping sounds of his fist increases with his pace. Slippery with his own cum he finally bursts more ropes from his cock that leak down his hand and onto his abs. He is gasping chest heaving.

He takes the sheets wiping his abs and cock then strips it from the bed hurling it across the room as he finally yells in agony.

Quarters of the Baroness

You have been locked in your quarters for days. You have two handmaidens that wait upon you at all hours. If the room were less ornate, it would feel like a prison.

On the first day you recive a scroll from the Bene Gesserit confirming their attendance to the gladiatorial fights. They want to see the prospective Feyd Rautha and congratulate you on the announcement of your pregnancy. Twelve sisters will be attending in total.

You smile and almost weep realizing that some form of normalicy will return to this insane planet you’ve come to know as you’re home.

The eve before the gladiatorial fights there is a knock at the door the handmaiden opens it. The seamstress has arrived with her assistants. They are carrying two gowns for you. You know the shimmering blue one is for the Gladiatorial event. You touch the black one with a glistening design “ What is the dress for?” You ask in confusion.

The seamstress has her assistants hold it up. It is a floor length gown with a high thigh slit, backless and sleeveless with a low “V”cut connecting the front to a hood. It is beautiful. “This one is for your Na Barons Birthday celebration after the fights on the same day!” She says with a smile. “ Na Baron Feyd Rautha knew exactly how he wanted you to dress on his birthday” she says as she admires the dress.

She worked tirelessly to Feyds specifications to make it right. “ Feyd made this for me?” She nods with a big grin. You are still trying to get over the fact you didn’t know it was Feyds upcoming birthday. You are shocked to realize you know so little of him.

The seamstress continues “When you wear the black one I have a special modification.”She pulls the dress up revealing the hidden lining. “Because the slit is so high I had to have the snap seam sewn inside to protect your modesty.” She tries not to giggle as she remembers telling Feyd a slit that high will leave you open to exposure. But luckily she is talented enough to fix the design.

She continues “You pull the gown on as usual and snap the buttons together that way from the side no one can have a peek at the Na Baroness” you giggle and thank her. The assistants hang the dresses on display in the closet and the seamstress bids you farewell as they depart.

When you finally settle to finally sleep, there is yet another knock on the door. You hear lots of whispering at the entrance. The handmaiden knocks before entering your room. “There is a gift here but it can only be accepted by your hands.”she says. You sit up and wrap your robe tighter. As you step to the entrance you see Feyds Page bow to you. He is holding a metallic box with a lock, the key in his other hand “I was instructed you are to use it immediately” he says. You take the items and thank him he bows again and quickly leaves .

The handmaidens become nosy knowing it is from Feyd and you are banned from contact. You quickly enter your chambers and lock the door before they can speak.

You sit on the bed to unlock and unhinge the box. Resting inside is the golden sphere and the ring with a white dot. Your heart swells and you smile for the first time in days realizing this is something directly snuck in from Feyd.

You put the gold band with the white glowing dot on your pointer finger. You grab a towel and place it between your legs and relax against your pillows. You place the box on your night stand. You collect the sphere in your hand and spread your legs apart pushing it into your entrance. After it slowly sinks inside you wait. You focus on any signs of movement but the sphere remains still.

When it slowly begins spinning inside you light up in excitement. The ball begins to slowly roll up and down inside of you. You let out a moan and slap your hand over your mouth. The handmaidens are in the next room. The vision of Feyd naked in his bed stroking his cock at the same speed makes you completely give in. You close your eyes and imagine him as you rest back against your pillows.

You quickly lose your thoughts when the sphere speeds up. Your chest begins heaving as you knit you brows. A moan escapes your lips and then another. You wish it was Feyds cock as the orbs thrusts inside of you. Your abs tighten and you relent into an orgasm grabbing a pillow to stifle your moans. You release liquid all over the towel it feels so good you shiver. You clean yourself up and lay back against the pillows.

As you come down your body is frozen in place unable to move, you wonder if Feyd came at the same time making a smile spread across your face. You quickly sit up and retrieve the sphere out of you with your ring finger before it starts all over. You rinse it and return it to its case. After you turn off the lights you climb in bed and finally drift off to sleep.

Tommorow you will see Feyd again in all his glory at the gladiator fights in the arena. You dream of being at his side again.

To Be Continued …

Up Next Part 3: Available Now

Feyd in the Arena | Feyd Birthday Smut | Kinky Smut

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[feirceangel]

How about a feyd x reader where feyd has reader watch him in the arena to gain her favor. She is impressed with him and respects his prowess. Just before a huge match what if she goes to him and leaves a hand print in paint over his heart as her token rather than a sash like the others. This fires him up/ looks super cool on his skin.

Ooh I love this!! I did my own spin on it but I hope you still enjoy! :)

Imagine | Stained (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Word Count: 1,377

Warnings: biting

Cheers rise into the polluted air on Giedi Prime, a torrent of frenzied noise which alerts you to the occurrence of yet another gladiatorial event.

You hadn't realized there would be one today. Normally, you notice the announcements and the crowds gathering to go see the festivities. You don't often join them.

Watching people fight to death. . . it's not a habit of yours.

Lately though, you've noticed how often Feyd has been mentioning his fights, never outright asking you to watch them but leaving plenty of hints.

Being from a wealthy family has its benefits, especially on a harsh place such as this. Ever since you've been here, you've tried to make the best of it and befriend as many native Harkonnens as you can.

This first, and dare you say only, friend-adjacent connection you've made has been with Feyd-Rautha.

His brother is too animalistic and angry for your liking, and the Baron is a ghastly man you do not like to interact with. Servants won't speak to you and the Mentat Piter is sickening in his sadistic tendencies.

So, to your surprise, you got to know Feyd the best out of them all.

He's brutal, yes. Menacing and violent as well.

And so alone.

Sure, he has his concubines: his pets that he plays with but soon grows bored of. And yes, he has his mockery of a family: a predatory uncle and a nasty brother.

Yet you can see past his façade of aloofness, see into his inner self. And what you see is a man forged by others into what he is now.

You see a hurting man who doesn't know anything close to true kindness.

So yes, he is wild and vicious. But there is an intelligence and cunning within those dark eyes that you have seen countless times. 

He's constantly observing, waiting for his moment to strike. He knows how to play his hand to benefit himself.

Despite his more undesirable traits, you'd dare call him a friend.

The cheering dies down as colourless fireworks burst in the air like ink stains. You watch them, casually leaning against the balcony railing.

Feyd finds you immediately, half undressed and still painted for fighting in the triangular colosseum.

"My lady," he rasps, approaching from behind slowly. "You did not watch the fights."

"It slipped my mind," you reply honestly. "Though I have no doubts you remain the champion, my lord."

His lips quirk upwards, "Naturally."

Your eyes roam over his blood splattered body, taking in the well-defined muscles which are decorated with paint. He's shirtless, how could you not stare?

He basks in your attention, cocky smirk never leaving his face. But it strains once you turn your attention away.

Feyd comes to lean against the rail beside you. You feel his eyes on you.

"You're coming to the next fight," he finally says once he realizes you're content to dwell in the silence.

You turn to face him with a smile, "Am I?"

His eyes narrow, voice quick and sharp, "Yes."

"You didn't ask."

Feyd tilts his head, "It's not a request."

"A command, my lord?"

"Yes," he repeats, leaning closer into your space. Your teasing tone is getting under his skin, you can tell. He's almost touching you now but you don't retreat.

This is the game you play.

"I suppose I can attend the next fight," you hum thoughtfully.  "Especially since you've requested it personally."

He backs away slowly and you force yourself into staying still even as you desire to chase after him. His close proximity is intoxicating.

As if he senses your inner battle, he grins and nods to you before sauntering away.

"I will put on a good show for you, my lady."

You find yourself alone, wishing he had stayed longer.

~~~

It was not mentioned again, and now you find yourself in your room preparing for the event. You dress modestly, still unaccustomed to the fashions on Giedi Prime. A black dress does nicely, with your hair loose. 

You still have plenty of time before your attendance is necessary, but you traverse to the arena despite this. The hallways are as colorless as everywhere else, a maze of black and white. 

Feyd is being dressed as you enter the room. His sharp eyes betray a smidge of surprise which he masks underneath an air of haughtiness. 

The servants attending him walk on eggshells, knowing that any wrong move could cause their demise. 

"You may be dismissed," you say, addressing the servants. 

Their eyes flicker to you with uncertainty. The servants do not move until Feyd snarls, "Do as she says!"

Instantly, they are gone. 

And it's just you and the warrior. 

You approach him slowly, picking up the paint pot that the servant abandoned. Circling him, you note how his eyes never leave you, even when he has to twist his head to keep you in his sights. 

"My lord, I hope you can forgive my impertinence, showing up here unannounced."

"Don't be coy," he narrows his eyes, "You're not sorry."

"You're right," you chuckle, swirling the paintbrush through the inky paint. "I'm not sorry to see you, especially like this." 

You rake your eyes over his flesh, barely concealed by a cloth wrapped around his waist. He is truly a fine specimen of a man. 

"May I?" You ask, stopping in front of him. 

He inclines his head. He hadn't been expecting this, since you seemed intent on avoiding the fights entirely. 

You begin by painting the smaller rectangles across his chest and then move to his back. Your brushstrokes are slow, methodic.

He anticipates each cool touch as you meticulously paint his flawless skin. He wishes it was your touch he was feeling, your hands against his skin. He craves it.

Next, you adorn his abdomen, barely concealing the excitement you feel being this close to him. As you finish, he reaches for his clothes but you stop him with a hand on his arm. 

"I'm not finished, my lord."

Intrigued, he returns his arm to his side, staring you down. 

You coat the palm of your right hand with the inky black liquid, never breaking eye contact with Feyd. He doesn't stop you as you press your hand against his warm chest, right where his heart would be. 

You start to pull away, but he is quick to grip your wrist, keeping you in place. For a second, you are concerned that you went too far. Maybe this is the day he kills you for your insolence?

Instead, he lunges forward, catching you in a hungry kiss. He bites and takes, and you surrender with ease. A sense of relief and excitement floods your senses as you kiss back just as passionately.  

"It is fitting," he says once he parts from you. 

He watches as you slowly peel your hand from his skin, leaving a perfect handprint over his heart. 

"What is?"

"That you should mark me like this," he grins to reveal blackened teeth. "You are a stain on my heart."

"How so?" You're still breathless, allured by his gravelly voice. 

"All it longs for is your touch, you vixen."

You caress his cheek, "I'm just marking what I own. And once you're declared the victor, you can come claim what's yours." 

Your words ignite a fire in him and he starts forward but you step back. 

His glare is venomous, as if you just deprived him of oxygen. 

"You have a fight to win, Feyd. Shouldn't you be preparing?"

Turning, you begin to walk away. 

A rough hand snatches your shoulder, and a hot mouth is on your neck before you can blink. He bites down harshly, drawing spots of blood. The pain is expected when dealing with a man like Feyd, but it is still surprising. 

You really have gotten under his skin. 

He releases the pressure of his teeth and drags his tongue over the wound. 

"You needed a mark too, my sweet."

You turn and press a chaste kiss to the top of his head, "Go make me proud, Feyd. I shall see you in your chambers after the fight."

He lets you leave, watching with blood stained lips. 

"As you command, so it shall be."

[please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!]

[perlelune]

Play with Fire | Feyd-Rautha

Your secret tryst with the na-Baron should have ended the moment you returned to your betrothed on Caladan. And it would have, if your lover was willing to let you go.

Warnings: NON-CON, Knife Play, Blood Play, Breeding Kink, Jealousy, Cheating, Blackmail, Murder, Slight Paul Atreides x Reader, Incest

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

A raspy moan erupts from Feyd-Rautha’s throat as your slick walls squeeze around his hard cock. Your head tosses back, pleasure swirling through your core. Your nails rake across his sculpted, ivory chest and he purrs. You bury them in his flesh, scattering crimson lines across his skin. His hands curl around your hips as he thrusts into you more vigorously. You dig your heels into the rumpled sheets, your mind blanking as his pelvis massages your bundle of nerves.

You chew on your lip, willing yourself to be more quiet. The most arduous task considering the mind-blowing sensations coursing through your heated flesh. Your reputation hinges upon it. If anyone brushed past the na-Baron’s chambers and recognized your voice…you would be ruined. 

What a lewd picture the two of you must paint from afar. You, a proper lady from a noble house of Caladan, riding Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s cock with wanton abandon, your dress bunched around you, sweat glistening off your panting frame. The Harkonnen heir-designate is in quite a disheveled state himself, grunting below you, his dark gaze hazy with lust. 

“You are a goddess, my darling,” he lauds.

The echo of his gruff baritone ripples across your skin. Feral need bleeds from his words, his ravenous gaze riveted to your writhing form above him. It’s evident the na-Baron is basking in this sight, his tongue flicking through his lips every once in a while. The trail of his dusky eyes goes from your bouncing chest to your entrance, greedily sucking every inch of his length.

“Then fuck me like a god would,” you dare him with a smug smile. A risky move, particularly considering how deep inside you he already is, pulling broken moans from you each time his taut hips meet yours. But you want to push his buttons even more, see how far you can take it. 

Grazing the flickering candlelight isn’t enough. You want a blazing inferno to engulf you whole. 

You cock your eyebrow and sneer, “I expected more from such a great warrior.” You grab the long silver dagger lying beside him. Feyd-Rautha hardly goes anywhere without a deadly weapon nearby. His bed is no different. You push the tip against his throat. “Fuck me as if your life depended on it, na-Baron…because it does.” 

Most men would cower at such words. But Feyd-Rautha isn’t most men. A wild glint of excitement blooms in his orbs. His throat bobs, a look of satisfaction so intense crossing his features, you wonder if he’ll spill himself inside you right at that moment. 

He welcomes the threat upon his life like the most wondrous gift, making no move to shirk away from the sharp edge kissing his throat. Bliss decorates his features as you nick him in various spots with the blade, lingering so he feels every ounce of the sting when his flesh is sliced. Your blade curves meticulous patterns in his ivory flesh, drawing raspy moans and elated growls from him. You spread your hand across his chest, pressing your palm into the fresh wounds. Dark blood is smeared across his pale chest. The na-Baron moans at your touch, the pain delighting him. He embraces it as much as the pleasure. Perhaps even more.

He accepts the challenge you give him. A squeal shoots through your lips as he flips your bodies, forcing you on your stomach. He pushes the flowing fabric of your dress up until your dripping folds are bare to him. A shiver of anticipation courses through you when his thick tip presses against your weeping entrance. The blade slips through your fingers, a soundless scream parting from your throat when he slams his cock into you from behind. 

The metallic taste of your own blood rains on your tongue when you bite your lip, confining every sound fighting to be unleashed. He wraps his hand around your nape, shoving your head into the mattress, allowing you no time to gather your breath. Each of his thrusts is brutal and unforgiving. He ruins your walls without a care. You find yourself almost wishing you didn’t agitate the beast inside him. Almost. If the sinful dance of torment and bliss weren’t so entrancing, perhaps you would regret it. 

His muscular frame covers yours. His scorching breath glosses over the back of your neck as he inquires, “Does my cock meet your high standards, my Lady?”

Your chest heaves as you whimper underneath him. You are so delirious with both pain and pleasure that it’s hard to even think coherent words, let alone utter them. Feyd tears you from your haze with a pointed pinch on your swollen bundle of nerves, making you cry out.

“It’s…a-adequate, my Lord,” you stutter between panting breaths. 

“Just adequate?” he scoffs. “Well, this will not do.”

Determined to have you choke on every taunt you threw at him, the na-Baron isn’t satisfied until you’re passed out underneath him. He finds his release as your walls spasm around him. Even as you’re on the cusp of collapse, you urge him to pull out, coaxing him to spill himself over your belly. A sliver of annoyance passes over his features before he surrenders to your wishes. Relief fills you when his warm, sticky seed coats your stomach.

You doubt your fiancé would respond well to you returning with a Harkonnen bastard growing in your womb.

As you wipe yourself with a damp cloth on the edge of the bed, you inform, “My mother and I are returning to Caladan tomorrow.” He doesn’t acknowledge you at first, sitting with his leg bent, completely unabashed in his nakedness. You let your gaze roam over his smooth, hairless muscled flesh. It’s a pleasant sight, one you commit to memory. You’ve enjoyed your time with the na-Baron. And not only did you enjoy yourself, you’ve shed the fear you harbored regarding your wedding night. You loathed the idea of being some shivering, terrified maiden before your husband. You long for more. Giving pleasure but also receiving it. Reciprocity. 

Feyd’s head turns. His alabaster face betrays no emotion. He observes, “This was a brief trip.” He tilts his head. “Must I expect your next visit to end as swiftly?”

Mirth tugs the corners of your lips skyward. You crawl towards him.

“There will be no more visits.”

His  jaw ticks.

“Is that so?”

You cup his cheek and state, “I am to be married soon.”

A hint of possessiveness flashes across his stony features. Subtle, but there nonetheless. You’ve learnt to decipher the minute shifts in his expression in the two weeks you have spent on Giedi Prime.

He snickers.

“To some lesser man, I reckon.”

You bend over his shoulder. A teasing lilt sneaks into your voice.

“Are you seized by jealousy, my lord, consumed with burning rage at the thought of another man touching me in the ways you have…” Your lips graze his earshell. “Perhaps even being inside me?”

His hand shoots out to clasp around your throat. 

“Jealousy is for the weak,” he grates, his cheek pulsing. You smirk. Stoking the flames of his ire often yields…interesting results.

“Then does that make you your weakness, na-Baron?” you jest boldly.

The hand around your throat tightens, impeding your airways. A whine escapes through your lips. He hauls you off the bed and shoves you onto the floor.

“Darling…” he warns, his grip around your neck unwavering. “You speak too much when your mouth should be full of me. On your knees.”

You scowl at his imperious inflection but comply regardless. This is your last encounter with Feyd-Rautha. The last time you bend to his whims. While you’re not fond of his tone, you can discard your disgruntlement for a brief time. 

You wrap your fingers around his length. Your dauntless gaze rises to meet his as you start planting kisses along the dark, swollen tip of his pale cock.

“Your wish is my command, my Lord na-Baron,” you whisper teasingly.

You never expected to entertain a secret affair with Feyd-Rautha of all men. For the entirety of your girlhood, you heard horror stories about the Harkonnen, how ruthless and cruel they are, how their wasteland of a planet is a cold, inhospitable rock. 

So when your mother announced the two of you would be going on a diplomatic trip to Giedi Prime, you weren’t thrilled. In fact, fear surged through you that day. You kept picturing some awful thing happening as soon as you landed. You thought it to be a punishment, and wondered if perhaps you had offended Leto Atreides and his family in some form without realizing it.

However your parents explained the idea stemmed from a clumsy attempt at quelling the long-standing rivalry between House Atreides and House Harkonnen. Keep those tensions from building into an all-out interstellar war.

While Duke Leto Atreides will not risk his son’s life for a last ditch attempt at peace, the lives of members of a House Minor who swore him allegiance many years ago are more…expendable you suppose. 

It is how you, daughter of an Earl with close ties to house Atreides, found yourself on Giedi Prime. Your father voiced his hopes that your sweet disposition would rub off on Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen as he bid you goodbye. 

Perhaps that plan worked a bit too well. 

You barely understood how it happened. How your path and Feyd-Rautha’s collided in such an...unexpected way. 

It all started the day you watched him - admired him truly - through your binoculars as he performed in the gladiator arena. That day, a hundred doors opened up inside you, each clamoring to be crossed. Like a castle brimming with rooms you never explored. 

The spectacle of death should have repulsed you. Instead, you found his bellicose dance over the sand as the crowd cheered him on fascinating. You were unable to tear your gaze away that day. Inexplicably drawn to something twisted and sick you shouldn’t crave, yet did anyway. You found yourself wondering if those deft, pale fingers are as apt with…other things as they are with blades. It kept you awake at night and obliterated every other thought. How he’d be like. What he tasted like. What it would take to coax out that ferocity you saw in the arena in wildly different circumstances. That strange, irresistible force kept pulling you into his orbit.

So one day, you surrendered to it and snuck into his chambers, offering him your maidenhood. And he took it without hesitation.

In a life in which every decision is made for you, either by your mother, or your father or the Bene Gesserit…It is freeing to finally make a choice for yourself, one that only serves you and not the ends of a mysterious sisterhood whose obscure prophecies mean nothing to you.

However, while you have plucked a modicum of gratification from this affair, it must end. For not only are you spoken for but, during your time on Giedi Prime, you have borne witness to the depth of the na-Baron’s heartlessness. 

While you admire his prowess in the arena, you resent his disregard for human life. You’ve trembled as you watched him slaughter servants to test the sharpness of his weapons, slice a cook’s throat for bringing him a meal he found under-seasoned or not warm enough, gut innocent bystanders simply because he had the impulse to do it. 

Feyd-Rautha is a mercurial beast. A prime example of the Harkonnens’ capacity for unprovoked, gratuitous violence. 

Therefore a flurry of comfort flows you through at the prospect that you’ll be going home soon, back to Caladan’s familiar, flourishing landscapes. Whatever thrill the affair elicited before is beginning to wear off. You long to be home and return to your fiancé.

However that sense of peace crumbles when you return to your chambers that night and find your mother waiting for you on the bed. You smooth out the wrinkles in your dress. It’s useless. The evidence must be all over you because she stomps in your direction, a wild look of rage distorting her usually demure features.

“Have you lost your sanity?” she roars.

You shake your head, feigning ignorance.

“Mother, I have no idea-”

It’s not until the sharp ringing of your mother’s palm flying across your face fills your ears that you realize that she just hit you, the searing sting of pain spreading belatedly. Almost like time stood still in the crux of that instant, leashed by your shock and disbelief. Your mother has never laid hands on you before. Not even once.

Your wide eyes find hers.

She shakes a berating finger at you.

“Do not lie to me, child. How many kinds of an idiot do you believe me to be?” Your mouth shudders as you clutch your throbbing cheek. The strength with which your mother struck you still pulses right below your fingertips. “You even reek of his foul stench. My own flesh and blood…smelling like a filthy Harkonnen whore.”

Your face burns, from both pain and shame.

“You foolish girl.” Her gaze narrows as she leans back, gulping a wide lungful before speaking again. “After your father and I moved the heavens to secure a worthy match for you?” She shakes her head. “You are lucky we are leaving tomorrow and that your father will not hear a word of this.” She pauses, sadness and disgust tinging her tone. “You were such a sweet, kind little girl, so curious and clever, always clinging to my skirts…” Your mother sighs. “So dutiful. What mistake did I make in raising you for you to become such an utter disappointment?”

Your heart shrinks under her accusing glare. A sheet of guilt pervades you as you fall silent, finding no word to stand up to your mother. She is right. Reality crashes over you. You were in a haze, a lust-driven fog. Now you’re wide awake, as if a bucket of freezing water was poured over you. You have besmirched yourself and your house, tossing away your virtue for…what? Ephemeral moments of delight. The more you mull over your actions, the more you realize how impulse-driven and dangerous they were…that all of it was a mistake. 

Your mother’s words drop a hot stone of shame in the pit of your stomach, one that remains lodged inside you even as you land on Caladan. Not a single word is exchanged between the two of you in the brief time you sit together in the starship transporting you back home. Instead, a heavy silence rife with animosity fills the air. 

You’re grateful Feyd-Rautha is notably absent the day of your departure. You don’t have the fortitude to peer at him, face your mistakes. And it’s what he is. The walking, breathing embodiment of your mistakes.

So in the ephemeral span of time required for time and space to fold and bring you back home, you sink back into your role of virtuous and demure lady of your house.

As you and your parents disembark, you let your eyes soak in Caladan’s beautiful landscapes. Lush, green plains fill your sight, their familiarity sending a wave of calm through you. Finally, you’re home. Light-years away from bloodthirsty warriors and caliginous planets with blotted skies rife with smoke and pollution. You are ready to bury the entire ordeal behind you and return to normalcy.

Expectedly, the Atreides clan is there to welcome you and your parents back home.

A small smile appears on Paul’s face when your gaze lands on him. Your stomach knots as you return it. He can never learn what occurred on Giedi Prime. That secret will follow you to your grave. You approach him, pointedly ignoring your mother’s sizzling stare.

Her apprehension permeates through you even from where you are. There can be no other mistakes. 

Your match with Paul Atreides must be a success. For both your house’s sake and the safe continuation of the Bene Gesserit’s breeding program. The pinnacle of centuries of scheming and puppeteering from the shadows. Your mother impressed it upon you many times over the years. How the purity of the bloodlines must be preserved. How all of it serves to bring humanity closer to its age of enlightenment. And while you are not so conceited to believe you will bring forth the long-awaited Kwisatz Aderach…you understand your role in producing an offspring that perhaps may nudge the sisterhood closer to that goal. 

You suppress the tremor in your hand as your cousin plucks your hand to kiss the back of it. 

“May we walk together for some time?” he inquires. 

Relief swells inside you. Chatting away from prying ears is a welcome prospect, the combined scrutinies of both your families flaring your nerves. You can even feel Lady Jessica’s attention on you now. What if your mother’s half-sister saw right through you? Your aunt’s sharp Bene Gesserit’s senses have always stirred a vague unease within you. Today even more so, as you choke on so many secrets you can barely breathe.

“With pleasure,” you respond, accepting his hand as he guides you away from the welcoming committee. 

The two of you engage in a tranquil stroll across the grassy field. 

“I trust your journey went well, cousin,” Paul says.

Flashes of torrid nights spent in a bed you shouldn’t be in force their way inside your mind. You quell the pesky memories, your brows knitting. 

You coax a demure smile onto your features.

“It was a…learning opportunity. One I wholly embraced.” 

Naturally, you spare your soon-to-be husband the details of what it is you learned and with who.

Your fiancé nods. 

“It sounds delightful.” His green eyes soften as he mumbles, “You were missed.”

“By you, my Lord?” you beam, happiness fluttering through you.

Over the last few months, since the official announcement of your betrothal, your fondness for Paul grew the more time you two shared. The crush you harbored for him as a child blossomed into more, his kindness and nobility of heart winning you over. But you never expected him to reciprocate those feelings. 

A hint of pink dusts Paul’s cheeks. Straightening his spine, he clears his throat.

“Many…including myself,” he answers evasively.

Your smile widens. “I would hope my betrothed noticed my absence.”

Warmth rushes through you as replies, his tone dropping, “It was definitely noticed, my Lady.”

He suddenly falls quiet. Thoughts seem to lurk in his mind, causing a deep frown to carve his brow.

Concern tickles your insides.

“Is something troubling you, my Lord?”

He hesitates, his thin lips squeezing before he reveals, “Mother believes I should take you as concubine, not as a wife, in case another marriage prospect presents itself to me.”

You ponder his words. It does not surprise you coming from your cunning aunt, that she would encourage her son to keep his options open the way his father did. A sliver of bitter disappointment percolates through your chest. Being Paul Atreides’ concubine would have its range of perks. You could stand beside him, share his bed and perhaps even a genuine love one day. One as deep and true as the one his parents have nurtured for years.

But it would also mean that while you’d undeniably be his, Paul would never truly be yours…that he could become someone else’s overnight to secure some treaty or alliance with another house.

Still, you conceal the panic rushing through you with a meek nod.

“It would be a clever move,” you say. You hold his eyes. “What did the Duke say?”

“That he regrets not making my mother his Duchess everyday.” 

He seizes your hands, his fingers curling tightly around yours. Determination steels his olive gaze. “I do not wish to repeat my father’s mistakes,” he states. 

The worry building inside you is stifled by his soft reassurance. 

“That is a relief to hear, my Lord.”

As Paul’s fond gaze rests on you however, guilt creeps inside you once more, your mind wandering to the debauchery you surrendered to on Geidi Prime. Self-loathing fills you.

You tear your hands from his, your focus tumbling to the ground.

“Are you unwell, my Lady?” he asks, his tone dripping with concern.

You shake your head, giving a false smile.

“It’s nothing. I was simply lost in my thoughts,” you lie.

Interest blooms in his green orbs. “Would you care to share them with me?”

The blood in your veins freezes. You pale to think how Paul, your beloved, his beautiful eyes overflowing with love and trust, would look at you if he knew. The mere thought makes you queasy. He can never know.

“I was simply overwhelmed with excitement at the thought of our union, my Lord.”

He accepts your explanation without a shadow of doubt in his eyes. He takes your hands in his again, fervently promising, “I am aware that greater forces may have rushed our union, but I want you to know. I will love and cherish you with my whole heart.”

For several days, you get to bask in your renewed peace, finding solace in returning to your habits and focusing on the wedding preparations. While your mother’s coldness remains, you don’t let her behavior cast a pale on your happiness. Besides, she will be compelled to acknowledge your efforts over time, how much you strive to do nothing but bring pride to your house. You may have faltered on Giedi Prime, yielded to your baser instincts. But it is all in the past. 

The dusky planet will fade. Feyd-Rautha will fade. And soon, memories of your life with Paul will replace those fleeting moments of weakness. 

So, for a while, all is well, your mind at rest and your spirits lifted. All is well... until nothing is.

Until a handmaiden brutally tears you from your slumber one morning.

“My lady, you must awake now,” she whispers, urgency laced in her tone.

“Arisha…The Devil himself must sleep at this hour,” you groan, burying your head in your soft, comfortable pillow.

A Harkonnen ship just pierced through the Caladan exosphere. Its landing is imminent.”

Dread shoots through you.

The news has you leaping out of bed, abruptly hurling you into a state of complete wakefulness.

You whirl towards her.

“A Harkonnen ship?” you screech, your voice wavering. 

“Yes, my Lady,” Arisha confirms.

Your mind throbs as alarm pulses through you. A Harkonnen ship…here on Caladan? This isn’t just strange. It is unprecedented.

“Help me get dressed, at once,” you command, already shedding your nightgown.

You rush to get ready, joining your family as they hop on an aircraft to reach the landing site. Your chest is tight the entire time.

When you arrive, a striking scene welcomes you. On one side of the large landing strip, the Atreides army stands proudly, flanking the Duke and his family, while on the other there is a Harkonnen battalion, accompanied by a large swarm of Sardaukar soldiers.

A thick layer of tension coats the air, so palpable you feel its weight on your skin as you join the Atreides’ side. Both sides are poised for battle, ready to draw their weapons and unleash hell if need be. The fresh morning Caladan breeze is heavy with the threat of imminent bloodshed. Your gaze drifts to the mighty Duncan Idaho. The swordmaster’s face is uncharacteristically stern, the usual cockiness he dons gone from his features.

You swallow past the dryness in your throat.

You pivot to Thufir Hawat, the Atreides’ mentat. A hushed question rushes through your lips. “Thufir, how much will it cost them, traveling this far from Giedi Prime to Caladan?”

The mentat’s orbs gloss over with a white veil as his genetically altered mind runs calculations faster than any regular human could. Within a few seconds, he supplies a precise answer. “Two guild navigators, a total of one million two hundred ninety thousand fifty three and a quarter solaris round trip, my Lady.”

You release a quivering breath. The cost of the trip alone has a pang of foreboding twist your insides. Who squanders such a vast amount of solaris over a courtesy visit in enemy territory? 

Only a fool or a madman would do such a thing.

Your eyes travel across the field. A familiar dark gaze corrals yours. Your heart skips a beat. For brief seconds, familiar pale lips rise in a taunting smile.

 A shudder rocks through your frame. You lower your eyes, keeping them on the grass.

Him? Here? On your beloved Caladan? Adrenaline pumps through your blood, your pulse spiking. A frown forms on your brow. Sense is amiss here. You thought him a beast, driven by nothing but violence and lust. But as you take in the scene unfolding before you, the two enemy armies trapped in a standstill, you understand more clearly. 

This is not some impulsive, foolish attempt. This is a calculated move. No side can hurt each other this openly without annihilating each other and causing a global, intergalactic incident. The other houses of the Landsraad would be forced to declare allegiance for one side or the other. The Imperium would be compelled to respond. Chaos would erupt. 

And it’s blatant the na-Baron knows it, a smugness etched on his face despite standing in enemy fields.

You are so consumed by your raging train of thoughts that you nearly miss the tail end of the conversation between the Duke, your father and him.

Shock bolts through you when you catch the suggestion that he should stay in your family’s estate.

Indignation pulses through your words.

“In our home, father?”

Your father shoots you a withering glance. Your head dips as you bite your tongue. No protest should have risen from it. As an Earl’s daughter, your opinion in such matters is irrelevant. So despite the frustration and horror swelling inside you, you bind every objection to the cage of your sealed lips.

His gristly, arrogant baritone booms across the field.

“In light of the…belligerent history House Harkonnen and House Atreides share, I believe it may be ill-advised for me to stay at Castle Caladan.” Despite your bowed head, you can paint a vivid picture of the haughty smile stretched on his lips as he says, “And since our two houses have grown undeniably close, thanks to your daughter’s most skilled, clever tongue...” Your heart races as you quietly pray no one present deciphers the lewd implication behind his words. “It is where I shall take residence for the duration of my stay.”

 Later that same day, Feyd-Rautha wastes no time in finding you, making the purpose of his visit clear when he sneaks into your chambers. His reflection in your vanity mirror as you remove your headdress startles you. 

You jump to your feet.

“Guards?” you call sharply.

He cocks his head, a smirk ghosting over his plump lips.

“Guards?” he repeats, openly mocking you. “I have Harkonnen soldiers at your door, my darling.”

A shudder ripples through your spine. You lift your chin, your tone firm and commanding as you say, “You can’t be here, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. It is inappropriate.”

He snorts.

“Inappropriate?” A predatory look crosses his features as his dark gaze roams over you, seeming to peel the layers of your dress. “I do not recall that being an issue when I had you spread over my cock back on Giedi Prime.”

Heat rushes to your face at his lewd reminder. 

“Y-You must leave,” you insist, fighting to quell the tremor in your voice.

“Or what?” he challenges, taking slow, lithe steps in your direction. Your pulse soars. “Will you scream?” A crooked slant appears on his mouth, the prospect clearly filling him with great delight. He hums low in his throat. “Then how will you explain my presence in your chambers?”

You recoil, every hair on your body bristling as he inches closer. The realization that you are alone with him, with no help coming, that power you held before now robbed from you, has dread steadily mounting inside you. On Giedi Prime, he was a leashed monster, one you felt you could sway as you like. Here in your room, he is a ravenous creature, hungry for blood and retribution. One you no longer have control over. 

You dash towards the exit. He smoothly impedes your attempt at escaping, his fingers fastening around your wrist while he grabs your body from behind. He yanks you backwards, pulling you against his chest.

“Not so fast,” he sneers. His tongue slips out to drag across your temple. You wince, jerking in his embrace to free yourself. You bend over him and sink your teeth in the flesh of his arm. He purrs in pleasure, his hold on you tightening. His gravelly whisper summons goosebumps on your skin. “Oh darling, such a slippery one you are, always trying to run from me whenever things start to become most…interesting.”

He hauls you to your bed. Your heels dig into the ground to resist. His patience fizzles out and he throws you onto the carpeted floor instead. The clamor of your drumming heart rises to a crescendo in your ears. He looms over you, his body caging yours. Terrorized, you gape at him, an helplessness you never felt before pulsing through your veins. Your chest heaves rapidly, alarm widening your gaze as he reaches down to pull down his black pants. His erect, alabaster cock slips free, the swollen tip already shimmering with the evidence of his need. A scream dies in your throat when his fingers wrap around your neck, bruises already forming in his painful grip.

You thrash beneath him, clawing and biting every part of him you can reach. Your feistiness only serves to galvanize him further. A demented look of amusement decorates his handsome face as you struggle underneath his frame. His throbbing length pokes your stomach. You kick your legs, desperation radiating through your chest. He places himself between your thighs, pushing your dress out of the way until it’s bunched around your waist. A raspy sigh leaves him as he nudges his thick, leaking tip against your dry entrance.

Terror sings through your veins.

He revels in every bit of fight you give him, plucking satisfaction in watching you exert yourself to delay the inevitable. A hungry wolf toying with a lamb before sinking his teeth. Even as you grab the dagger hidden under your skirts and try to stab him, he’s undeterred, the flicker of surprise shifting to a smile when you nick his shoulder blade. He wrenches it from your hand with little effort, once more demonstrating that whatever frail control you thought you ever had…was just an illusion. You squeal in pain as he twists your wrists above your head, his steely grip nearly snapping your bones.

“No…don’t you dare,” you hiss, the confidence in your voice faltering as you feel him push inside you. 

His warm breath brushes over your face. “I traveled across the stars to find you again. I will take what is rightfully mine.”

Your back folds as he spears you with his cock. The room blurs around you, the sudden searing pain as he begins to move inside you almost knocking you unconscious. He never took you like that. Like an animal in heat, desperate to reach his high. You choke on your breath with every one of his quick, feral thrusts.

His lips sweep over yours, ravenous and possessive. You bite him and he growls, somehow growing harder inside you. His sick enjoyment of this makes you shudder. He fondles your soft flesh, groaning into the bloody kiss. Black teeth trail possessive bites along the quivering column of your neck. His hands feel everywhere on your reluctant flesh, the weight of him suffocating as his greedy mouth tastes yours.

“You thought you could toy with me and toss me aside when it pleased you,” he rumbles, squeezing your jaw. His fingers dig painfully into your cheeks. “I am Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. I am not some spoiled little princess’ toy.”

The last remnants of bravado inside you are swiftly pushed by the hasty, merciless snap of his hips into yours. You try to ignore the horrid heat gathering in your lower belly, the spasms rocking through your core every time he hits those tender spots he’s come to know too well.

“I’m delighted to see your body hasn’t forgotten me, darling,” he taunts, yanking a drawn-out whimper from you as his cock punches through your walls.

Your chest grazes his, his form draping over yours as you sag against the floor of your bedroom, completely defeated.

“Please…” The desperate, feeble cry falls from your tongue in a last ditch effort to get him to stop. It only makes him smile down at you, a glint of victory illuminating his dark orbs. Tears well up in your eyes as you grow overwhelmed with fear, confused and terrified by the way your body yields to him. Your walls constrict around him, hugging his cock as if welcoming the assault. A wave of sickness spreads through you.

His tongue traces a slow path across your cheek, collecting the salty trails streaming down your face. He moans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Your tears taste sweeter than I could have imagined. Almost as sweet as that tight cunt of yours.” He licks his lips. “Perhaps I shall aim to make you cry for me more often.”

When his warm spent glazes your ruined walls, his sweat-covered muscular frame covers yours. He remains buried inside you, crudely pushing back the sticky excess with his fingers. You shiver beneath him, weeping quietly, forever destroyed, forever changed. 

Head nestled in the crook of your neck, he whispers, “We shall see how well my seed blossoms in your garden, my darling.”

“I do not understand,” Paul says, turning a dismayed frown upon you. “You are to be his willing bride?”

Swallowing a deep breath, you recollect the events that have led you here. Led you to stand here before the members of House Atreides, before your fiancé, to announce that you will not marry Paul. Led to you disgracing yourself and your house.

The wayward memories slip through your grieving mind.

Focusing on their conversation is hard, the discomfort in your body making it hard to walk properly. Feyd-Rautha relishes your torment, occasionally tossing taunting glances at you above his shoulder, a secretive smirk hovering on his lips. Your fingers clench in your lap. He insisted your father give him a tour of the castle this morning, and as his supposed ‘friend’, you are naturally expected to be present. Nevermind the sickness and resentment taking hold of you whenever you look at him.

As the tour nears its end, your father asks, “Do you have everything you need, na-Baron, or do you require any further accommodations?”

Feyd-Rautha hums, as if he were truly mulling over this offer.

“Any further accommodations?” He smirks, pausing before resting his eyes on you. “I suppose your daughter’s hand in marriage will do.”

Your head snaps up, a stunned exhale bursting from your mouth.

Your father turns a puzzled frown towards the ivory-skinned young man.

“My daughter’s hand? Is this a joke?”

There isn’t a hint of mischief on the na-Baron’s face, his expression deadly serious, making your father realize…his request must be as serious. He halts in his tracks, the smile vanishing from his face.

Feyd-Rautha approaches your father, ordering rather than asking, “Cancel the match with Atreides, old man, and give your daughter to me instead.” He snickers. “Her virtue is already mine anyway.”

This sends your father into a blind rage. He draws out his sword and lunges himself at the na-Baron.

“You rascal. I will teach you-”

Your father was a great warrior once, a fearsome force on the battlefield. Duncan Idaho himself would attest to that, having fought at his side several times. 

…But that was decades ago. Nowadays with his body slowed down by age, he is no match for the quick, ruthless Feyd-Rautha. He barely gets the opportunity to swing his sword at the young man once before Feyd-Rautha guides his blade below his chin and through his skull. Blood gurgles from your father’s mouth, raining over his neck and clothes before he falls into a heap on the floor. 

Your stomach drops. You watch in horror at his split skull, matter spilling from it across the tiles, his rolled back eyes, his still open mouth. 

You sink to the floor, crawling to his corpse. Fresh blood stains your palms as you cradle his head.

“Father!” Tears blur your sight. You lift your eyes, yelling out orders with a broken voice. “Guards! Detain him!”

Shock ripples through you as the guards ignore you, staring ahead blankly as if the gruesome scene before them didn’t exist. 

Feyd-Rautha kneels at your side. He frames your chin, bending over your shoulder to whisper, 

“Oh darling, do you not understand?” You hear the wicked smile in his raspy baritone. “Your house isn’t your house anymore. It is mine.” Ice bursts through your veins. His gravelly voice lowers, as if he were sharing a secret with you. “Do you wish for your sisters and mother to meet the same fate?”

Your chin wobbles in his grasp. “N-No.”

He strokes the side of your face.

“Then do everything I say.”

 “Y-Yes, my Lord,” you reply with a tremulous nod.

Ire trembles through Paul’s voice, his fingers clenching into fists at his side. Disbelief and hurt contort his boyish features.

“I do not believe it. I do not believe you,” he says, pinning you with an unflinching stare. You lower your gaze. You can hardly believe it yourself. How your entire life fell apart, your future in ruins…your father’s blood now on your hands. You blink back budding tears and take a deep breath to thwart any hint of trembling in your voice. You’re grateful for the funeral veil concealing your expression. “I apologize for breaking the promise my father made.”

Paul’s jaw clenches.

“You’re lying.”

“Son…” Leto Atreides begins, a slight warning in his tone. 

“There is something she isn’t telling me, father,” Paul insists, his green gaze narrowing. “Speak the truth.”

You shiver before feebly uttering, “My Lord…”

“Silence!” You flinch at the sudden wave of power engulfing you, forcing you into quietness as if someone snatched your tongue from your mouth. You release a shaky breath, staring up at Paul in shock. The Voice. Paul used the Voice on you. A Bene Gesserit skill meant to make the target bow to the user’s will. Your wide-eyed gaze rests on Paul. You never expected him to use this on you. As if you were some enemy he needed to interrogate.

His anger cracks in the air like a whip.

“I said…Speak the truth,” he snaps, using the Voice again. 

A great pain settles in your body, pins and needles coursing through it. Sweat breaks out on your skin. Words tear from your throat on their own, aching  as they spring from your tongue. 

“I offered myself to him on Giedi Prime,” you blurt out.

Your hands fly to your mouth as soon as the words pour out of you. Your eyes fill with tears. Paul looks at you in a way he never has before. Like you’re a stranger. Your heart sinks.

“I see. So it is true.”

Meanwhile, at your side, Feyd-Rautha basks in every second of the spectacle, twisted mirth swaying in his dark orbs. He hasn’t said more than a few words during the whole exchange but it’s clear he’s plucking joy from this, reveling in your misery.

Paul nods, stepping away from you.

“You are dismissed, my Lady. You may go to your future husband.”

Paul’s icy timbre shatters what is left of your heart. He turns his back to you and you feel more alone than you ever have in your entire life. Your lips clamp shut, a cold wave setting all the way to your bones. 

Even Paul’s parents, the Duke and your aunt the Lady Jessica appear disappointed in you, their eyes bereft of its usual warmth as they watch you leave with the enemy.

You have nothing, no one. Just the monster beside you. Your soon-to-be husband, who won your hand through bloodshed and deception.

Feyd-Rautha’s hand curls around your waist, guiding you towards his starship. With every step you take, further away from the Atreides castle, you feel more hollow.

“Come with me, my love. Let us go home to Giedi Prime,” the monster whispers.

You don’t put up a fight as you’re nudged inside the vessel, silently accepting your defeat. Feyd-Rautha plants a deep, slow kiss on your lips and you passively let it happen. 

You admire the beautiful green fields of Caladan one last time before the doors close. An errant tear skips over your cheek. You likely will never see your planet again. And even if by some miracle you could return, you would be the enemy to all of them…even to your own family, who holds you responsible for Father’s untimely demise.

You peer down at your hands. If you let your mind wander, you start to relive that awful moment. That moment your father’s wet, warm blood coated your hands, dripping between your fingers. You will never wash off the stain, shed the guilt. 

You wanted to feel the flames, experience the full-blown heat of something thrilling and new. Something you never had in your tedious, predictable existence before.

You in fact got to feel this heat. You walked through the fire and the flames consumed everything you held dear.

And now you stand amidst the ashes, everything you ever knew ripped from you forever. 

[missjadesfics]

“His Little Wife”

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader divider credits: @cafekitsune @rookthornesartistry Summary: You are Paul's twin sister and are sent to marry Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. Warnings: p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, slight breeding kink, slightdom!feyd, sub!reader, feyd does show a soft side. 18+ MDNI! Reader has she/her pronouns Word Count: 1,8k Disclaimer: I don't own any works related to Dune characters, and I do not claim them as my own. Comments likes, and reblogs are always adored and appreciated.

Y/n Atreides. Described as the most beautiful and desirable among all the houses, when Lady Jessica gave birth to twins, the Bene Gesserits were disgruntled about the birth of Paul, but hearing the news of Y/n, the next part of their plan was to wed Y/n to a Harkonnen. The plan was simple: secure an heir to bring forth the One while hoping to fix the feud between the Houses Atreides and Harkonnen. Y/n Atreides would marry the younger nephew and Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. Y/n remembered the shiver that ran through her spine hearing the news. When Y/n landed in Geidi Prime, her timid body refused to move as she felt her father’s hand on her back. His gentle smile urged her to walk down as she breathed. Her head suddenly became dizzy as she walked towards the Harkonnen fortress. Her father, Duke Leto, too, was nervous; he didn’t want to make his daughter marry a man she didn’t know. Lest it be a Harkonnen, he would have married her to Duncan Idaho, if he could have it his way. Granted, he wasn’t noble, but he would have been a suitable match for his daughter. He trusted Duncan with his life. And with his children’s lives, too. 

Leto bowed his head lightly to Baron Harkonnen, who hummed in response as he leant back, smoking his pipe. His nephews Feyd and Glossu stood on either side of their uncle. Glossu appeared disinterested, but his dark eyes would wander over to Y/n’s frame, making the young woman shudder under his gaze. Feyd smirked, admiring the young Atreides with amusement. Leto and Baron Harkonnen went to the meeting chambers to discuss matters, and Glossu followed behind with the Harkonnen and Atreides mentants. They were leaving Feyd and Y/n alone in the room. Feyd slowly wandered over his pace, calculating and slow. Y/n’s eyes focused on Feyd, and his fingers delicately glided up her arm over her collarbone.

Humming lightly, he moved closer. Y/n stood silent as she studied him carefully, not letting her guard down. He chuckled, his knuckles brushing her cheek. Y/n flinched under his touch, and she stepped back. He narrowed his eyes in thought, noticing her breath hitch in her throat. Feyd could sense the fear in the air circling the young Atreides, his head lowered to her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. Y/n gasped sharply, turning her body to face Feyd, never leaving herself vulnerable to his gaze. A small laugh escaped his lips. “You tremble. Are you afraid of me, little Atreides? Perhaps…” he trailed off, lowering his voice and whispering in her ear. “You Desire me?” he purred Y/n’s eyes avoided eye contact, hearing her father’s voice echo “, Y/n! Come child”, he urged her as Y/n picked up her dress skirt running to her father, looking back she saw Feyd smirk his blue eyes watching her every move.

Y/n Atreides and Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s wedding ceremony was the most talked about event on Geidi Prime. It had been so long since something as exciting as a wedding took place in Harkonnen’s homeworld. But the people of Geidi Prime did not look happy; if anything, they looked upon Y/n with pity and sadness. They knew of their Na-Baron’s wrath, his taste for blood, and his pleasure in killing. They all feared for the young Atreides girl and how long she would live as Na-Baroness. 

Suppose Y/n remembered anything from what she had learnt about the Harkonnen family. Always keep your guard and never go against them. Especially Feyd-Rautha. Reminded each day by her ladies and those she was given on Geidi Prime, they aided her with knowing how to keep Feyd-Rautha’s temperament within handling limits. “The Na-Baron is very short tempered, Lady Atreides; he does not like to be questioned, disobeyed and most certainly not spoken back to. Na-Baron Feyd is ruthless in not just killing, but in his games, he will toy with you and make you wish you were dead. Lady Atreides, you must always be careful around him. Whatever he wants, you do it. Whatever he says, you do it. Do you understand?” The ladies asked her as Y/n nodded, slowly swallowing a lump in her throat as she shuddered a breath, her heart pounding. As she looked in the mirror, a delicate veil draped over her face, the ladies smiled. “Lady Atreides, you look beautiful. Na-Baron will be most pleased”, they whispered as they all curtsied in unison Y/n held back tears, turning away from the mirror and leaving her chambers.

Na-Baron Feyd’s eyes never left his wife, who didn’t utter a word during the wedding feast. Sitting silently at the table, she sipped her wine; the loud music and laughter echoed in the grand hall. Feyd sighed, looking ahead, smirking; his hand reached under the table and slid up his wife’s leg, a gasp leaving her parted lips. She looked over at Feyd, who stared at her; she felt her body heat under his gaze; his hand gripped her dress, and her breathing grew heavy. Feyd leaned over gently. “I’ve held back long enough, little wife”, Feyd growled Y/n felt her body tense at his words; she blinked back her tears, standing with Feyd; his hand gripped hers tightly, leading them out of the hall. Cheers and uncontrolled laughter deafened Y/n’s ears as Feyd grinned and scooped Y/n over his shoulder; the young woman kicked her legs angrily. Feyd’s laughter angered her as she hit his back. “Put me down now!” She ordered him; hearing no response, Feyd kicked the doors to his chambers open, closing them behind him before throwing Y/n on the bed. 

“Little wife, why do you resist me?” His voice sent chills through her body as he lowered himself between her legs. His hand gripping his knife, Y/n’s eyes widened, her heart racing. The cold blade rested against her skin before cutting her dress to shreds. Raising the knife to his mouth, his tongue slid out and flattened as the blade rested gently on top. Y/n watched him, her chest rising and falling, her doe eyes fluttering; Feyd removed the knife and grinned, his black teeth shining under the pale moonlight. Laying his knife on the bed, he gripped his wife’s thighs, pulling her closer. Trying to wriggle out of Feyd’s grasp, his blue eyes gave her a warning glare. “Please…I’ll do my duty as your wife. But I ask you to be gentle with me,” Y/n whispered; her husband looked up, humming lightly, pushing her dress up to her hips. Picking his knife up once again and twirling it, he smiled, ripping her undergarment. Sliding up her body like a serpent, he licked up her neck, caging her underneath him. “I’ll do what I like, little wife; you might just find it pleasurable yourself”, his voice purred, his mouth latched on her pulse on her neck, biting down gradually. Y/n whimpered underneath her body, moving, trying to escape his hold. Feyd pressed himself down harder, his hand sliding up her body under her dress, feeling her soft skin on his rough palm. “Your body responds to my touch. You like it?” Feyd’s lips ghosted over her jaw. The corner of his eyes met hers as he smiled. Pulling away, his finger glided along her bottom lip as she trembled. “Don’t fight me”, he whispered, kissing her roughly. A moan escaped Y/n’s mouth; fighting the urge to kiss him back, her body began to falter. Her lips moved against his, falling under his spell, her desire aflame she couldn’t fight him anymore. Feyd pulled away slowly; he observed his wife, whose eyes were still closed from the kiss.

Y/n’s lips tingled from the sensation; her eyes fluttered open, finding Feyd staring at her. Y/n pulled him in for another kiss. Feyd growled into the kiss, his tongue dancing with Y/n’s fighting for dominance. Feyd pulled away, sliding down her body, situating himself between her legs, biting and kissing her inner thighs, breathing heavily. Y/n’s moans echoed through the chambers as Feyd licked his lips; diving between her legs, Y/n cried, her back arched. Gripping the bedspread tightly in her hands, Y/n writhed under his hold, moaning his name, “Feyd!” Desperation filled her voice, feeling Feyd’s tongue increase pace, his movements growing harder and faster. One of Y/n’s hands left the bedspread and gripped Feyd’s head, rolling her hips. “Oh, Feyd!” She gasped, feeling her body tense as Feyd pulled away with a grin, kissing her stomach; he ripped the remaining parts of her dress. Removing his clothes, Feyd flipped Y/n on her stomach Feyd pulled her body back to his. 

Entering her in one thrust, his hips snapping onto hers, Feyd let out a feral sound, overwhelmed with pleasure. Y/n’s body shook, her head falling forward. Feyd was large and unprepared; her mother didn’t tell her much about the marital acts that happened between a man and wife. She had never laid with a man, and her husband was no ordinary man. Y/n was innocent, and Feyd-Rautha had her all to himself. A grin formed on his lips as he leaned down. “Don’t worry, little wife, you will feel good soon enough” he rolled his hips, his cock hitting her cervix harshly, making her cry out. His thrusts were rough and violent; just like him, he didn’t want to be gentle. It’s not in his nature; he is a warrior born ruthless and terrifying. Hearing his little wife’s cries made his mind hazy with lust, his hands grabbing her waist and pounding into her harder. Feyd snarled, feeling her walls suck him in, his eyes rolling in his head, his hips faltering slightly. 

Feyd pulled out of Y/n, rolling her onto her back and entering her again. His eyes stared at Y/n’s face, twisted in pleasure. His body rutted into hers fucking her hard. “There you go, little wife. You are enjoying yourself,” Feyd smirked; his hand gripped her leg and brought it around his waist. His other hand left a bruising grip on her hip. “I’m going to fuck a child into you, my little Atreides. Hmm, my sweet little Y/n,” he cooed, kissing her roughly and swallowing her moans and whimpers. Y/n arched her body, whining under Feyd as she felt her walls clench around his cock. Her body tensed as she felt her heart pound in her eyes. Feyd’s voice rang through her ears as she moaned sharply, feeling her release reach its peak. Feyd grunted, his hips stuttering as he, too, reached his peak, moaning loudly and coating her walls. Y/n whimpered, gazing into her husband’s eyes. 

“Rest while you can, little one. I’m not done with you” He smirked.

Tags: @cynic-spirit

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[citrusdarling7]

The Bloodline

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description- as a highly trained sister of the Bene Gesserit, you were prepared to do your part in carrying on the selective genetic material of this generation. however, a change of plans are made, and you are told that you must secure the bloodline of the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the dangerous young heir to Geidi Prime

warnings- unprotected intercourse, p-in-v sex, fingering (f! receiving,) sort of knife-play, blood, violence via gladiator fighting (but not too descriptive,) BG propaganda, slightly inaccurate Dune technology, feyd-rautha has black cum (credit to @valeskafics for that one<3)

word count- 1,857

a/n- wow, it's been a while. haven't published anything on this site in like over a year I think, but I hope at least someone will enjoy this sick little piece I wrote instead of doing my homework :)

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It was never supposed to be him.

You were supposed to be paired with the heir of Caladan, Paul Atriedes, and you had been told this since your first day of training. Yet, the Atreides' had all been killed on Arrakis at the hands of the Harkonnens, and your Reverend Mother decided that the duty of continuing another selective bloodline would fall upon you. The na-Baron Feyd-Rautha may have been the result of 90 generations of predetermined genetic material, but that didn’t make him any less psychotic. Nor any less intriguing.

The bright sun of Geidi Prime was high today, and the air was sticky with humidity. Cheers erupted from the crowds as a young Harkonnen warrior gutted a slave in the pit below, and you found yourself growing bored of the spectacle. One of the ladies to your right let out a shriek at the gruesome scene, drawing your attention.

“How is one supposed to stomach this brutality for an entire day?” She exasperated. 

“It is tradition for the Harkonnens’, Lady Clarissa. They value strength, and what better way to prove it than in the gladiator pits?” Your Bene Gesserit training consisted of much time studying the histories, and you pride yourself on your knowledge of the cultures of all the Great Houses. Lady Clarissa grimaced before adjusting her hairpiece and fixing her mouth back to a pout.

“It is deplorable, but I suppose you would have no issue with that sort of thing,” she remarked. You paid her no attention; the Bene Gesserit were not well liked by many nobles, Lady Clarissa’s family included. Her discontent mattered little to you, although you felt yourself wishing you had at least one other Sister here with you. 

Unfortunately, your Reverend Mother had sent you on this mission hastily, claiming that the upcoming celebration of the na-Baron’s birthday would be the perfect time for you to carry out the task. Coming from a Great House yourself, it was not abnormal for you to attend such an event, but the marks of the Sisterhood followed you wherever you went. Although controlling your mind was usually an easy task, you found yourself slightly anxious after waiting hours to finally get a glimpse of your target.

It felt as if years had passed before the announcer finally declared that the young na-Baron would now display his bravo in a fight against three slaves, supposedly the last remaining members of the Atreides household. You perked up in your seat, pulling the binoculars close to your eyes as the crowd bellowed. 

Feyd-Rautha strided out to the center of the pit and bowed before the Baron, giving you a good look at the young heir. He was pale, so pale that the sun seemed to reflect off of his skin. The black fighting suit he wore drew your attention to his muscled torso, his sculpted abs peeking out from beneath the hem. His face was stern, although a smile stretched from his lips as one of the slaves began to stagger towards him. As you watched him slice open the other man’s throat, you found your heartbeat begin to race. You were intrigued. 

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

The interior of the Harkonnen palace was grim, as you had expected it to be. You walked through the fortress slowly, counting your steps as a way to calm your breathing. After the spectacle in the gladiator pits, you were immeasurably more nervous than you had been when arriving on the planet. Feyd Rautha was brutal, vicious, and likely insane. Yet, you could not deny your attraction towards him. It was stupid, immature, and dangerous. You were a trained sister of the Bene Gesserit, and this was your duty. To conceive a child with the na-Baron, and ensure the bloodline is secure.

You were not supposed to be on this side of the palace, yet no one questioned as you walked by. Your gown swept across the floor as you moved and your hairpiece tickled your bare shoulders. The na-Baron’s chambers were ahead to your left, and you noted the absence of guards, as well as the faint sound of approaching footsteps. A rather ghastly portrait of a late Baroness served as an excuse for your attention, although you struggled to prevent your eyes from wandering to the dark form approaching. 

“Well, what do we have here? Are you lost, little pet?” His voice was deep and raspy, and you found your mind faltering once again. 

“ My Lord na-Baron.” You restrained from bowing your head as you turned from the painting, staring directly into the man’s eyes as you sweetened your gaze. “I believe I may have wandered too far from the guest’s hall. Mayhaps I have wandered into a trap?”

“You should not be here.” He stepped closer, and began to stride around you in a circular fashion, like that of a predator stalking its prey. He watches you with hunger in his eyes, imagining what pleasure it would bring him to tear the dress from your body and take you right against the wall.

The Reverend Mother had been right; sexually vulnerable.

“Perhaps, I am in exactly the right place. I wished to congratulate you on your triumphs in the fighting today, it was truly a spectacle to remember.” You approached him swiftly, and the smell of steel and musk filled your nose. “I have heard many tales of your strength and bravery, but none measure up to what I have witnessed today. You will be a fearsome Baron, just like your uncle.” At the mention of the Baron, Feyd’s eyes lit up and his hand snapped around your neck. 

“So you must be the gift my uncle has promised. He must have bought you Off-World, for I have never seen a Harkonnen slave as beautiful as you. I will enjoy ravishing you.” 

Your heart beat sky-rocketed as he tightened his grip on your throat, making you lose control.

“Release me,” you commanded with the Voice, out of instinct rather than fear. The words fall from your lips before you can stop them, and Feyd obeys. The grin on his face falters as you stumble backwards, realizing that you may have just destroyed generations of planning, with only two words. Thankfully, Feyd does not seem discouraged.

“Ah, not a gift then, but I will have fun with you all the same, witch.” With a sudden movement, he pushed you against the wall and captured your lips in a harsh kiss. Feyd’s hips pressed hard against yours as he claimed your mouth with his tongue. His scent was overpowering in a way that made your head spin and seemed to subdue your thoughts. Your thighs clenched in anticipation as the na-Baron grabbed at your neck once more.

“Tell me, witch, what do they say of me in your homeworld? Are all you little witches so eager to please?” Feyd’s threatening gaze made your knees falter as you looked up to him with a soft smile.

“Not all of us, my lord. But I must admit, I have found myself rather allured by the temptations of your beautiful planet.” His hand dropped from your throat, and vanished to his side before reappearing a split-second later, with a curved blade in his grip. The tip of the knife rested against your skin, the cold steel making you shiver. Feyd swiped his other palm across the wall, causing it to unlock in a strange clicking pattern. His eyes burning into yours, he led you backwards into what you presumed to be his bedquarters, the blade at your neck guiding you in the way he wanted. 

Your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you allowed yourself to be pressed onto it. His blade was thrown aside, allowing his hands to roughly tear at your gown, ripping the bodice straight in half. You let out a gasp as you felt cold fingers slip between your undergarments.

“What a brazen little slut you are, showing up outside my chambers so wet and wanting.” He thrust two digits inside of you, finally satiating the ache that had been present from the moment you laid eyes on him in the arena. He fucked you roughly with his fingers, setting an excruciating pace that had you whimpering and writhing against the bed in mere minutes. 

“Please, my lord. I want you inside of me,” you begged, reaching up to run your hand along his torso, stopping when you felt the bulge of his manhood straining against the confines of his pants. 

Feyd eagerly obliged, tugging off his pants and stroking his thick cock rapidly to prepare himself for you. He lined his tip up with your entrance and wasted no more time teasing you. The na-Baron thrusted into you, hard, making you clench at the bedsheets and thrash your head to the side in an attempt to stifle your moans.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, little witch,” he grunted, grabbing at your wrists and pinning them above your head. His dark eyes burned into yours as you tried your very best to keep quiet, not wanting to alert any servant that might have been lurking outside. He met your lips with his once again, in a ravenous kiss that had your teeth clashing against his. Feyd bit down on your bottom lip, drawing blood that he hastily licked up before moving on to attack your neck. 

You were so full with his cock inside of you, and you had never been more aroused in your entire life. The metallic smell of blood seemed to radiate from the man, and his fingers left delicious bruises wherever they ventured. You felt your toes begin to curl and your stomach tighten; the agonizing pace at which he was fucking you had you close to the edge of bliss once again. He could feel you begin to clench around him, your walls gripping his cock like a vice.

“Is the little witch going to cum for me? Go ahead, you’re mine now,” He finally released your hands, and you immediately gripped at his muscled shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “My uncle may not have intended you for me, but fate has. No one else will ever have you.” You nodded desperately, not caring about the words coming from his mouth but rather the immense pleasure he was giving you. 

Finally, a wave of bliss overtook your body, making you shake and scream as Feyd continued to roughly fuck you. You lost control of your mind once again, seeing stars as you came.

Feyd was close behind you, and the aftershocks of your orgasm had him rutting his hips against yours, letting out a deep groan as he emptied his seed into you. 

It took you a few moments to regain your senses, to finally realize that you had successfully completed your mission. His black seed leaked out of you, a sickly sight that made your face flush. He had left his distinctive Harkonnen mark on you, and the bloodline was secure. It was never supposed to be him, but you were very pleased with the way things had worked out.

[faetreides]

summary: feyd rautha x emperor’s afab oldest child!reader

cw: feet stuff, piss kink, implied eventual knifeplay/blood play, cannabalism, arranged marriage, feyd being so weird but reader lowkey loves it, facesitting but the kind where feyd would beg you to break his neck, spanking/mild painplay, very likely ooc feyd since i haven’t seen part 2 yet, use of “princes” and “wife”, wedding hunt and black cum hcs taken from @valeskafics , reader doesn’t really know what’s going on but they’re vibing

wc: 1.4k

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

Collapsing in relief has never been more appealing. You finally have a moment of respite after vigorous and exhausting wedding festivities, and you need to collect yourself. This marriage to the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was only brought to your attention a week before it would take place.

Surprisingly, you didn’t really mind the man himself. It was just so sudden, is all. During any visits with his family, you had to be mindful of how you reacted to his cocky displays of ruthlessness and violence. Your father would have your head if he saw how tight you squeezed your thighs together or how much you panicked at the thought of leaving a puddle on your throne. Feyd always marked his departure with a cliche kiss to the back of your hand and a hissed promise that you couldn’t make out.

He would protect you at the very least if he didn’t love you. You’re not even sure that you love him, but this shameful crush could grow into something untamable if you lose your footing. Something… unbecoming of a member of the royal family. You wonder if it already has.

The wedding was as grand as could be, glittering decorations and finery followed by archaic rituals to please your in-laws. The Wedding Hunt in particular sent your heartbeat into overdrive, but the satisfaction on your betrothed’s face when he caught his “prize” was intoxicating. Feyd Rautha kisses like he kills, you were quick to discover, fiercely and uncaring of any blood that might be shed.

You’re brought out of your reminiscing by your now husband closing the door to your room behind him. You only have another day with your family before you’re to leave for Giedi Prime. There has hardly been time to get to know the man you will lie beside for the rest of your life, until now.

“Wife.” He bluntly greets you, awkwardly nodding his head in an effort to maintain his “tough” image. You won’t tease him about the barest hint of blush on his cheekbones, but you treasure it nonetheless.

You humor him, “Husband.” Your nod mirrors his and you take a seat at the long table in the middle of the room after Feyd pulls a chair out for you.

This was the next part of the ritual, where the newly married couple must eat a meal that one partner made for the other. It sounds simple enough that you don’t think anything of it.

Feyd makes a gesture and your food is placed before you by one of your family’s servants. They look a bit queasy and green in the face but they’re gone before you can ask if they’re alright.

“I hope you like it, princess.” Feyd says with a barely there smirk, pointing to the… pie in front of you. “I cut down many people for it.”

You raise an eyebrow at that but bring your knife to take a slice of the pie anyway. Upon lifting the piece onto your plate, you notice eyeballs, flesh, tongues, and some sort of black liquid running throughout the filling. You freeze in place, not even meeting your husband’s eyes. One blue eye seems to twitch and the black substance makes a sick sound as you move it around with your fork.

“The other men who your father considered, my concubines….. I actually can’t tell you which of them are in that slice, but they are all there.” He whispers in your ear, having gotten up from his position opposite you to feed you himself.

You respect the ritual despite your urge to throw up, so you swallow what he gives you. He grins, swiping a thumb down to your throat to feel the food travel. He squeezes your cheeks when you’re done, and you open your mouth to show him that you ate it all.

“That’s my princess.” He condescendingly croons, bending down to run his tongue all over your face before standing up and pushing you to lie flat on the cold table. “But I'm afraid that it’s time for me to have my meal.”

Your elaborate wedding gown is slashed to shreds, the cool tip of his blade moving down your flesh until it reaches your lace covered mound. He taps the hilt of his weapon on your hood and unceremoniously tosses it on the floor.

You didn’t expect the reveal of your wedding night attire to be under such unorthodox circumstances, but can you say you expected any of this?

“A worthy bride with a body to match, thank you for this gift, your highness”. He says in a half joking manner, grinning with too many teeth as he runs his hands along the delicate material. He toys with the idea of cutting this little number to pieces too, but your holes are left conveniently exposed. Maybe he’s fallen too in love with it, he’s been in love with you since you met years ago anyway.

The lingerie is a custom designed piece littered with straps and sheer fabric that leave nothing to the imagination. Your tits are accentuated by a seashell-like pattern bra and there’s even a little black bow above your pussy. The frilly strips of material wrapped around your thighs do nothing to keep your curves contained and the tiny tulle skirt frames your ass beautifully.

Your husband drinks in the sight of you before pulling your ankles to rest on his shoulders. You watch in arousal and shock as he broadly licks the sole of your right foot. He groans unabashedly, nuzzling at your heel and then dipping his tongue in the spaces between your toes. You wiggle at the ticklish feeling but you don’t kick him away.

He really gets into it when he starts sucking your toes, bobbing his head and making sure you’re watching as curls his tongue around each one. His eyes roll back in pleasure once he reaches the last toe on your other foot, and drool trickles down your leg when he’s done getting acquainted with the taste of it. He presses a kiss to the top of each toe but then the weird softness is ruined by the bite he adorns your ankle with.

Feyd’s mouth makes a slick popping sound as he pulls away from your feet. You’re at a loss for words when he proceeds to lie down on the table beside you. He gropes your breast quickly and leans over to give you a surprisingly chaste peck. The look on his face is a smug one but his eyes say something unknown to you, soft and obsessive all at once. It’s as if he knows something you don’t.

“Now sit on my face, claim your new throne, princess.”

You don’t know how long he keeps you hostage there, your cunt soaking him as he devours you to the bone. He doesn’t let you become too relaxed, nipping your clit as he sees fit and clawing the skin of your ass. Eventually your gut aches and though at first you think you’re about to cum already, the second heartbeat in your clit feels different. You come to a horrifying realization that you need to relieve yourself.

“H-husband, what the fuck- I… I need to pee.” You’d rather be dead than doing what you are and saying what you are, but nature calls.

“Yes, that’s it.” He growls and digs his nails into your ass, jigging the globes in his hands before sharply slapping them. “Piss all over my face, get me wet with it like a good wife.”

The shriek you let out when you do just that is abhorrent. Your legs shake as you spray hot pee on your husband’s skin, the gold mixing with the white of your simultaneous orgasm as it drips down his body. You try to move off of Feyd but he tightens his grip on your ass and yanks you back down. The sensation of a hungry mouth desperately sucking the fluids from you drives you wild.

“You have…… fuck- y-you have to stop, hah- i’m going to break.” You sob.

He chuckles into your piss covered pussy and then pulls away to speak, “Then break, a wife of House Harkonnen doesn’t need to be put together.”

You think you hear him say something about using his blade on your body later, but that might just be your own perverted idea.

[lady-phasma]

Don't look away

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x F!Reader

Stand alone, cross posted on AO3, app 2,800 words

Warning: 18+, NSFW, others I should add but it's Feyd

Summary: Feyd lives rent free in my head now. I’m working on an unrelated piece with an ofc but I wanted to share a pwp because this man is essentially walking and talking sex. Enjoy. Please ignore typos. This was a rush job LoL

my gif

You hold your breath as Feyd-Rautha circles you, appraising. His head is tilted down and he looks at you from under his brows. Your chest is tight. He is almost exactly what you expected after watching him in the arena. Yet, not quite. He steps in front of you.

“She’s acceptable,” he says to the Reverend Mother without looking away from you. You begin to slowly exhale. His eyes slide down to your parted lips. He slowly licks his.

“Leave us,” he growls and the Reverend Mother, the younger Bene Gesserit sister, and his Harpies slip out of the room. You glance over your shoulder as the door slides closed behind them.

“No,” he whispers as he turns your head back toward him, guiding you with his hand on your chin. His blue eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth then back again. As he smiles, you see the tips of his blackened teeth for the first time and catch yourself staring.

“‘No’, my lord na-Baron?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He is standing close enough to hear you regardless. He nods once and drops his hand from your chin, grazing the backs of his fingers down your neck. He impertinently flicks the hood of your cloak off your head before dropping his hand to his side.

“You won’t look away from me. You will watch everything I do. No looking away, no closing your eyes.”

You swallow and attempt to nod but you feel like you cannot move. You want to move. You almost want to run for the door but you can imagine Feyd blocking your path with speed and stealth. You look at his mouth again, the lips curling, black teeth catching the light, and his tongue…

Feyd’s grip on your upper arm snaps your attention back. He undoes the clasp at your neck and slips the cloak off your shoulders, tossing it on the floor. You feel the goosebumps spread up your arms as the cool air of the room hits them. You are suddenly aware of the low neckline of your dress as you inhale. Your cleavage swells and you feel exposed, like prey out of cover.

He licks his lips, slowly. You fight conflicting urges to stare and to look away. You let your gaze travel up to his eyes. He isn’t looking at your face. He is stalking around you again, this time stoping behind you.

His hands are cool on your upper back and you shiver. Feyd makes a sound in response, a satisfied groan that is so low that you think you may have not heard it at all. His hands slip under your dress and are no longer gentle. He rips your dress down the back along the seam. He slings the shoulders of the dress down and you feel him step closer.

Feyd licks your neck, slowly, from the top of your shoulder to your ear. You bite the tip of your tongue to hold back a moan. You don’t want to like this, you don’t want to want him, but your nipples are hard and your body is a furnace.

“Let it out,” he growls in your ear, lips brushing against the lobe. “I want to hear you.”

You do. The sound comes out as a sigh and a moan. His reaction adds fuel to the fire in your core. Feyd growls next to your ear. His exhale tickles your cheek and you shiver again. Then you feel the fabric of his shirt press against your exposed back. Longing rolls over you as you realize you don’t want his shirt against your skin. You let the smallest groan escape your lips, a whining sound.

Feyd leans down and drags his lips over your shoulder. You almost relax into the feeling until you feel the pain as he bites down into the muscle. You gasp. It surprises you more than it hurts you. He releases his hold on you but his mouth stays against your skin.

Almost as unexpected as the bite, you feel the weight of his smooth head rest against your neck. He leans his weight in the crook of your neck and sighs. His hot breath makes you ache. His teeth are still grazing your shoulder. You want to relax into this feeling but he is too unpredictable.

Your mind races in an attempt to understand this man, to glean some insight. His sighs and groans make your core hot and tight. But the press of his teeth against your skin conflict with the gentleness of the press of his head against you. You can’t sort your thoughts and you can’t focus.

Suddenly, Feyd grunts and pushes away from you. Before you can decide to turn to look at him, he pulls your dress all the way off your arms and pushes it down your hips, leaving it in a puddle around your feet. You can’t think straight. You instinctively cross your arms over your breasts but it’s a fruitless action. He is behind you and you cannot cover the lower half of your body. You aren’t sure but you think the whimper you make is too quiet for him to hear.

“Stay,” Feyd growls. You do. You don’t move. You stare straight ahead at the wall opposite you and focus all your attention on listening, trying to decode the sounds Feyd is making behind you.

You hear cloth moving, one light thud, followed by another, then more cloth. Then you hear what is unmistakably bare feet on the stone floor. Then you feel him, not pressed against you (yet), but just behind you. He is still taller than you and though you cannot see him he feels like a monolith, looming and intimidating.

Feyd doesn’t speak as he runs his hands over your shoulders and down your biceps. He presses your arms against your sides and you acquiesce. Then his large hands cup your breasts as he steps forward into you, pressing the length of your bodies together. You feel lightheaded and sag slightly against him.

“Yes,” he hisses and somehow you can hear the smile in his voice. “Yes, my pet, that’s it.” His hands slide down the rises and hollows of your belly and hips. There is too much stimulus for you to focus on any one thing. The cool heat of his palms against your skin, the silkiness of his chest against your back, and the press of his erection against the curve of your buttocks.

This bliss is fleeting and you remind yourself of who he is, what you have seen him do. But the images of the arena can’t push the feeling of him on your skin out of your mind. You are almost powerless in his hands.

He guides you to turn and face him. You look up at him and involuntarily lick and bite your lower lip. For the first time you see hunger in his eyes. His head dips down and you fight the instinct to close your eyes as his lips press against yours. Not until you see his eyes close do you do the same. His mouth is bittersweet and gentle at first. Then his teeth nip and pull at your lip, his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he growls. You can’t stop yourself from pressing against his chest. Your hands find his arms as you try to get closer to him. As you pull him toward you the taste of blood crosses your tongue.

Feyd pulls his mouth back and you open your eyes immediately. The red on his lower lip is a stark line against the white skin. He slowly drags his finger across it. He gazes at the red on his fingertip as if he has never seen anything so entrancing before. Then he presses his finger against your lip and you pull the tip into your mouth. He moves before you can understand what is happening. His hand is in your hair, wrenching your head back. His other arm encircles your waste and he looks down at you, black teeth glinting in the pale light of the room.

His sneer is terrifying. Your fingernails dig into the flesh of his arms as you grip him. You don’t push him away; you can’t move. His eyes dart around your face searching for something. For defiance? He finds none and his mouth crashes against yours in a rough kiss that is mostly teeth and breath.

Something inside you gives way and you claw desperately at his arms. You kiss him back, finding his tongue with yours, inviting him into your mouth. His body is warm stone in your arms. You search for purchase, some place to anchor yourself, his chest, his arms, his neck. Then you push your hips forward, almost without thinking. His cock presses against your belly and he growls again. That sound draws wetness from between your legs and you moan back into his mouth. His hand begins to loosen its grip on your hair and you feel him smile against your lips. When you look at him you see it isn’t a kind smile.

“So that’s what you want, pet?” His smile is mocking, almost cruel. His voice is low and deep. His hand slides out of your hair to the side of your face. He caresses your cheek with his palm and rubs his thumb across your lips, lulling you with his touch.

“You want me to fuck you now?” Your response is the most undignified whimper. You are surprised by the desperation in the sound. As he straightens up to his full height you immediately miss the feeling of his skin. His smile softens briefly. Then he grips the back of your neck, hard, and walks you to the bed. Your heart pounds and you fear you won’t be able to keep your feet. If you trip you have no doubt he will drag you.

You look away from him, glance at the bed. He catches you and turns you to face him as you make the last few steps to the bed. It presses against the backs of your knees and you nearly fall. Feyd doesn’t let you. A brief flicker of understanding dawns on you: he doesn’t want anything to hurt you, only he can do that. It’s a perverse comfort, but his control is seductive. You don’t let yourself think “protective” but that’s the closest word. Then all words leave your mind as he lets go of you and you sink back into the bed.

Feyd kneels on the bed, spreading your legs with his knees. He isn’t gentle but his touch is soft. Every part of his hairless body is smooth and cool and graceful. His giant arms frame your field of vision as he props himself above you. His lower lip glistens and you want to risk defiance. You press yourself up to meet his mouth, to suck at that lip, bite and tease.

His reaction is quick. His hand presses you back onto the bed, wrapping almost entirely around your neck. You lick your lips and sneer up at him. His eyes flash with understanding. He grins. Using his hand on your neck and his legs to hold his weight he slips a hand between you and finds your slick center. He trails his fingers through your wetness and your last vestige of pride falls away. You actually whine as you raise your hips to find more of his fingers. He obliges for a moment and lets you press against them. Then he pulls his hand away.

The pressure on your neck is not yet uncomfortable. You let out panting breaths. Your mouth hangs open, eyes locked with his. Before you realize his hand is gone from your neck, you feel his wet fingers in your mouth and taste yourself. Without needing to be told you suck gently on them. You watch his face soften with pleasure. Barely opening his eyes, Feyd slides his fingers from your mouth, down your body, and under your thigh. He guides your leg onto his hip. As he leans his weight onto his other arm he guides his cock into your slick folds. You hold your breath. You don’t stop watching him and he notices. He looks at you, lewdly, as he strokes himself through your dripping cunt. You feel yourself blush, a bit too late for embarrassment, but there it is anyway. He groans as he presses the tip of his cock against your opening.

“Please, Feyd,” you groan. “Oh please.” His eyes widen at your words, at the sound of his name.

“Beg for my cock, pet. Tell me how much you need it,” he commands, his face only inches above yours.

“I need it so badly it hurts, na-Baron,” you watch for his reaction to the use of his title and you aren’t disappointed. “I need to feel you. Please.”

Feyd groans and his head dips lower, almost resting his forehead on yours as he begins to slide into you. The feeling is intense as he stretches you. You open your legs a bit wider, sliding your foot up the curve of his ass to his lower back. He presses deeper, harder, and you exhale his name. You don’t dare close your eyes yet but his are closed tight and his brow is furrowed. You gingerly slide your hands over his head and grip the back of his neck. You pull him to you slightly, giving him permission to rest his head against your neck. He rubs his head against you like a cat and you smile to yourself as you close your eyes.

Feyd’s hips press into yours, spreading you wide as he buries his face against you. He pulls out slowly and slides back in, so you can feel every inch of him. His free hand searches up your side to your breast and squeezes. His thumb grazes your nipple as he starts to pump into you. You gasp as he pinches your nipple, twists it slightly. You moan and press your lips against the smooth skin of his head.

“You take me so well,” Feyd mutters into your chest. “Such a good girl taking all of me.” The gravel in his voice makes you shiver and mewl. On his next stroke in, you slip your other leg over his hip and circle your legs around his waist. You pull him into you, as far as you can take him, the head of his cock pressing against your deepest core. He makes the most satisfied sound imaginable. You feel his lips, then his teeth against your collarbone. Your grip on his neck tightens as he slides out of you and rams back in, hard and quick.

With the next stroke, Feyd raises his head to look at you. You let your hands slide to his shoulders, still holding tight. There is no softness on his face now. His lust-blown pupils have swallowed the blue of his eyes and his brow is furrowed as he focuses on fucking you. He squeezes your breast quickly then moves his hand to your hair. He holds your head still and leans down to kiss you when he thrusts. You dig your fingernails into his skin and groan.

His control starts to falter and he exhales into your mouth. His hand in your hair gripping tighter as his strokes shorten and his pace quickens. You slide your hand down from his shoulder to touch yourself. His facial expression changes momentarily as he feels you grip tighter around his cock. You grin up at him.

“I need it, Feyd,” you whisper, holding his eye contact. You wait a beat and arch your back as your fingers and his cock bring you closer to your climax. “I need to feel you cum.” You groan. The wave of your pleasure begins to crest, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Then you feel his teeth clamp down on the flesh above your clavicle. Your orgasm overtakes you as the sharp sensation clashes with the low, throbbing pleasure between your legs. You murmur his name through clenched teeth.

Feyd pushes through your spasms around his cock. Growling and grunting but not releasing you from his bite. He fucks you through your orgasm. His rhythm stutters and his grip loosens. He lifts his head, a string of spit pulled from his bottom lip. He grabs your head with both his hands and, panting just above your mouth, he cums. The heat fills you and you moan his name again. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours as he presses into you one last time.

Then he stills, his forearms holding him up, but lets some of his weight press you together so he is almost lying on top of you, not pulling out yet. He exhales deeply and raises his head. He looks down at you.

You can’t catch your breath and your legs are heavy. You let them slide down his hips. Your neck throbs where his teeth marked you. You want to wrap your arms around him, pull him into you, stroking and soothing this wild animal. Instead, you grab the back of his head and pull him down to your mouth and kiss him until you taste red.

[jointherebellion215]

Flowers

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.5k

TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??

A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.

Read Part One and Part Two

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

Lily white and poppy red

I trembled when he laid me out

“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”

Nothing gonna wake you now

Drops of blood. 

A wicked, black smile.

“You won’t feel a thing.” 

You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.

The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.

On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.

That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.

While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.

You are a Harkonnen now.

Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.

Your husband wouldn’t allow that.

Dreams are sweet, until they’re not

Men are kind, until they aren’t

Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart

“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”

You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.

You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.

“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”

His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.

“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I know you don’t, my darling.”

You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.

“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”

Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.

Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”

You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.

“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“

“She did.”

He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”

You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid. 

Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.

“I only want what’s best for you.”

You understand now.

Is anybody listening?

I open my mouth and nothing comes out

Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.

Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.

“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.

Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.

“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.

“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”

Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.

“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”

There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.

You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”

Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.

Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.

Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.

Flowers, I remember field of flowers

Soft beneath my heels

Walking in the sun, I remember someone

Someone by my side, turned his face to mine

The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.

A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—

You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.

A laugh, familiar and warm—

A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.

Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—

The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.

A kiss, given freely—

Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.

My darling—

My love—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

“Is everything alright, my darling?”

You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?

Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

You give a bright smile.

If you ever walk this way

Come and find me lying in the bed I made

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 

“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 

“Soon.” 

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 

But god, you wanted to live. 

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 

The two of you were communicating. 

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 

Animal, indeed. 

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 

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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

[kpopnstarwars]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal

tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it

wc: 3.9k

Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.

It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.

He misses how you miss nothing.

You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.

The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.

Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.

He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.

But you see it.

You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.

It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.

You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.

He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.

Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.

‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’

You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’

You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.

Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’

‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.

Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.

He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’

You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’

Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.

‘Get away from me.’

Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.

Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.

There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.

You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.

‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’

You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’

He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’

‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’

Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.

And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.

Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’

‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.

‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.

As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.

Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.

‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.

It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.

‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.

He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’

You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.

Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a  goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.

You spit on him.

It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.

His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.

When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.

Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.

‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.

Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.

‘For whom do you wait, husband?’

As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.

‘Pathetic.’

You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.

‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.

This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.

His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.

‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’

You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.

Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.

‘Feeling okay?’

He nods.

‘Words,’ you chide.

‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’

You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call  you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.

‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.

‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’

His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’

You smile. ‘As you wish.’

You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.

Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.

As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.

Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.

‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’

He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’

All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.

Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.

He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.

‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’

His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.

Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.

‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’

A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.

Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.

Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.

There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.

‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’

‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’

Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.

You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.

‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’

‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’

Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?

Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.

Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.

‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’

best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍

dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable

[austinbutlerslovers]

Feyd Fantasy 3

Kill or Be Killed

Label Mature 18+

Summary

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen is being eyed by the Emperor to replace the current Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. After proving his worth in the gladiatorial arena it shows the Baron just how much the people of Giedi Prime adore Feyd Rautha.

The Baron knows his time is coming to an end when the Emperors right hand Count Fenring comes to observe Feyd in action.

The only thing the Baron feels will cripple Feyds greatness, is you his defiant new Baroness. You soften Feyds resolve and lower his brutality one kind word and gesture at a time. You encourage his free will as a natural born leader against his tyrannical uncle.

When the Baron takes drastic measure and separates Feyd from his beloved Baroness he sealed his fate. The Baron assumed the infatuation would end with time apart and an unending supply of pleasure slaves. He miscalculated poorly and now Feyd is coming to collect his Baroness and exact revenge on his tormenting uncle.

Starts blood /fights/ politics Ends hot dark romance smut 🫠

⚠️Hard Core Smut⚠️

Public edging• fingering under a table•coercion• light fem dom •restraint kink•cock rings•size kink•Feyd in heat•Sub Feyd•pain kink•nipple clamps •sexual stimulant• oral sex on Feyd•oral from Feyd• Feyd masturbating• Feyd ejaculate•semi public sex in a pool• rough sex •spankings•orgasms •creampies

🫦Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia

⚔️ Feyd Fantasy Series ⚔️

Part 1•Part 2•Part 3•Part 4•Part 5•Part 6•Part 7

⏳Extreme Dune Inaccuracies⌛️ Based on events from Dune part 2 film+ novel:Feyd story line change 💝Not for my softies 🆕 Skip to Cat Daddy ➡️

I thought this would be done in 48 hrs… until I started writing the first fight scene of my life 🥴 I’m also so appreciative I’m entertaining you 👌🏼😭 im working my a** off love you guys.

⚔️ Multiple requests combined ⚔️ -Semi public fingering -Feyd Immediate need for gratification in public. -Feyd in heat -Even more graphic s*x… -Feyd very rough but reader needs it. -Sub Feyd (restrained and dominated). -Feyd kneeling to earn s*x. -Feyd pxssy drunk for the baroness -Sex in a ‘Dune style’ pool? -Feyd obsessed with Baroness to his own detriment. -Feyd giving an unhealthy amount of spankings *blushing from these ☺️ thank you for the requests

Kill or Be Killed

It is the morning of the Gladiatorial Fights on Geidi Prime. The war like sound of horns and drums resound the capitol. Every pillar and building is hung with banners reading: ‘The 100th Kill of Na Baron Feyd Rautha on the Celebration of his Nativity’. It has been made into a global holiday, the people of the planet flock to the event.

The triangular arena is so large it can be seen from space. The black stadium is in the center of the capital of Giedi Prime. It is an architectural marvel thirty stories high. The hundreds of thousands cheering in the audience can be heard for miles.

All the great houses are in attendance. Dozens of high end viewing rooms and balconies are filled with several hundred interplanetary leaders and dignitaries. The rest of the stadium is filled to the brim with the populous of Geidi Prime.

All in attendance pay homage to the birthday of the Barons nephew Na Baron Feyd Rautha. After the fall of House Atreides the Harkonnens have become the most powerful family dynasty. They amass the most wealth and the farthest reaching army in the galaxy. The other houses bow to their will.

The Barons viewing room is the highest and most luxurious in the arena. It is a twenty story tower that connects to the stadium floor. There is a an elevation room to quickly ascend and descend him for the momentous occasion.

The Barons is beaming on this day as he speaks to dignitary’s just outside of his luxury viewing section. He is seated in his hover chair not needing to move a muscle, just sit back and bask in the glory his nephews display of power this day.

He is interrupted by his Lord in Waiting who informs him two important guests wish to join him in his viewing section. When the Baron sees it is the Emperors right hand man he lets out a deep laugh “What a special occasion this must be” the Baron says as Count Fenring and his wife Lady Margot approach.

They are visiting observers from the Imperial Court. “Welcome my Count and Lady it is a pleasure to see you” The Baron says acting surprised, yet he has been expecting them all along. Count and Lady Fenring bow with polite smiles. Though they have more serious matters to discuss.

They are seated in the luxury sky box above the triangular arena. Horns blaring below, they are tiers above the other sections. Some in the lower tiers are looking up waving chanting for the Baron. He waves answering the call and they cheers.

"My dear Baron" the Count says leaning to the Barons ear “I wish to discuss the reason why I am here today. The Emperor wishes me to report on whether you’ve chosen a worthy successor. There’s nothing like the arena to expose the persons true valor beneath, eh?" He elbows the Baron taunting him.He knows about his habit of drugging Feyds opponents.

The Baron is wise to his game. He has given his nephew a worthy opponent on his birthday, a healthy and alert Atreides soldier just as Feyd requested. What once worried the Baron now seems a brilliant request by Feyd to prove his honor. “Oh Feyd-Rautha will show you his true Valor” the Baron says with confidence. They hear a final horn as the onlookers stare down into the arena.

Feyd Rautha emerges into the fighting pit. A long knife in his right hand, a short knife in his left.

The greeting cheers lift from all the galleries. Feyd Rautha pauses to accept it, looking up and scanning the faces to find the one he wants to see the most but there are so many.

Feyd Rautha holds up his knives to the sun, and salutes the three corners of the arena in the ancient manner.

The adjustment of his body shield takes only a moment. He clicks on the device at his waist. It covers him entirely in a transparent blue color. It will withstand fast attacks, slower ones can penetrate the field giving him time to defend. His uncle insisted for this fight especially he never turns off his sheild. It is his only guarantee against death if all else fails.

The crowd lowers to a murmur with everyone waiting in suspense.

Feyd steps back and faces his uncles tower. He places his right fist over his chest and kneels "I dedicate this victory to... " And he pauses, knowing his uncle forbade him from dedicating the most honorable fight of his life to you. His uncle leans forward in his seat. He will have him mercilessly flogged if he dedicates this to his Baroness.

"... to Na Baroness Harkonnen!" Feyd shouts. The crowd erupts into cheers of elation. His uncle scowls in disgust. Feyd has dedicated his wins to his uncle for over a decade.

The Baron lets out a sigh Feyd did honor the pledge he made on his wedding day to the populous, he said he would dedicate his victory to his Baroness. Maybe he will have you flogged in-front of Feyd instead, his obvious weakness. The crowd erupts into cheers chanting for Feyd.

Your twelve Bene Gesserit sisters applaud you. They begin letting out the ancient calls of a successful mating from your home world making you laugh. The thirteen of you are crowded together on the luxury balcony. You are far across the opposite end of the arena from the Baron.

Your sisters have been kind, the first to fully acknowledge and appreciate your pregnancy. They press their fingers on your womb and bow in reverence sending messages to the unborn. They constantly speak to you of your home world and brought you many luxurious gifts.

They see your anxiety increasing when you can’t stop looking over at Feyd as they speak with you. Placing their calming hands on you and your unborn they relax you. Once your mind is free from fear you are no longer apprehensive about Feyd during the fights. You join them to observe him.

“So this is the young man the Reverend Mother meant, this is the a bloodline we must preserve. The father of the future Kwisatz Haderach” They murmur collectively.

You stare through your binoculars at his striking form. He looks very powerful in his black armor wielding his blades. As if he can feel your gaze he finally turns over his shoulder looking for you behind him. He can not find you but you see his eyes, cold calculating and empty. You can not wait to restore life to him again.

Feyd refocuses, his uncle said no distractions. He nods to his nine barb-men checking their equipment with a measuring stare. They swing their barbs, hooks glistening signaling they are prepared.

Feyd turns facing the big red door across from him which the special Atreidies soldier will emerge.

Instead a low humming arises from the two black doors on his left .

As they slide open a large sluggish gladiator emerges from the first door. He sheilds his eyes from the sunlight and walks with a stupor. A second gladiator drags his feet as he exits the other door. His dazed out eyes lock on Feyd and he snarls as he lifts his heavy sword prepared to fight.

Feyd clicks his tongue enraged his uncle has gone back on his plan and not given him a fight with a warrior.

The larger gladiator slave approaches him first, yelling as he raises his sword swinging down with a slow blow Feyd easily dodges.

His feet glide across the sand stopping right behind the second gladiator slicing him across the back of the legs severing his tendons behind his knees. The gladiator falls forward to the ground. Feyd kicks him over and stabs him in the chest blood prays from the dying gladiators mouth as he locks eyes with him in death.

He retrieves his swords just as the first gladiator lunges, weapon raised high over his head. Feyd pivots and stabs him through the torso until it meets the handle. The gladiator sword drops behind him. Feyd presses his foot to the dying gladiators stomach kicking him off of his blade spraying drops of blood into the air.

The crowd erupts into cheers. Feyd paces waiting for the next door to open in the arena.

In the Barons skybox Count and Lady Fenring are not impressed looking through their binoculars. It was too easy for Feyd there was no challenge. The gladiators were obviously kept as slaves, malnourished and heavily drugged. They begin whispering angrily to each other over the Harkonnens deceitful ways within earshot of the Baron.

The Baron hovers forward in his chair staring at the large red door about to open.”Happy birthday my dearest nephew” he says aloud making the Lady and Count look back into the arena.

Feyd focuses all his awareness on the red door hearing it gear up.

The red door slams open.

Out charges a tall, muscular man. His head is shaved and he as dark pitted eyes. His skin is bronzed he wears a black loincloth with a small sword tucked in his waist belt. He holds his long sword, tilted slightly outward in the stance of an expert fighter. He advances into the arena, with his sheild turning its side toward Feyd Rautha and his group of men.

"I like not the look of this one” says one of Feyds barb-men. "Are you sure he’s drugged, m’Lord?"

“Stand ready” Feyd says with a grin. He revels in the thrill his blood is coursing knowing his life is at risk.

“He stands like a true fighter," his other barb-men says.

Feyd Rautha advanced two steps onto the sand, and studies the man.

It is not a soldier it is one of Duke Leto Atreides best sword fighters! A chill runs through Feyd exciting him. He remembers how his uncle prized this warrior as a trophy when he was captured on Arrakis.

Another of Feyds barb-men speaks up "m’Lord have the men set a barb or two in his knife arm to try him."

"I’ll set my own barbs!" Feyd snaps he’s been craving combat.

Feyd advances another five paces into the arena, playing out the moment, studying the swordsman.

Already, he knows, the experts in the stands above him are aware that something is wrong.

“We should stop the fight this one is not drugged” says the Barons Lord in waiting

"See how he stands. He should be agitated and attacking. See how he conserves his strength, how he waits! He should not wait!" The Lord in waiting continues to panic.

“Don’t ruin my nephews birthday” the Baron shrugs him off and brings up his binoculars

"Hai, Harkonnen!" the man calls. "Are you prepared to die?"

Feyd feels the excitement rising in his chest as he grips his long blade.

Deathly stillness grips the arena. Captured fighters have never issued a challenge to Na Baron.

A tight smile spreads across Feyds lips.

"Hai! Hai!" the man challenges him again and creeps forward two steps.

Feyd aims his sword almost in a greeting.

The swordsman pounces

A timed side blow misses severing the tendons of Feyds left leg by the fraction of an inch.

One of Feyds barb-men instantly hooks the man leaving a barbed shaft in his right forearm pulling back his second attack on Feyd. The hook completely buries in his flesh where the man can not withdraw it.

Feyd yells at his barb-men “GET BACK!” The nine of them encircling Feyd to protect him look to each other in confusion.

You see Feyds anger rising as you watch from the balcony. He wants to fight and prove his valor but his uncle has so many safe guards installed. One by one he is stripping them away.

The swordsman backs up, lashing the barbed shaft to his arm with his weapon. "I do not feel your little needle Harkonnen!" he shouts. He creeps forward. ”And I too can hide behind my sheild” he mocks Feyd as he bends his body backward to give it the greatest surface of protection from his half-shield.

After several challenges from the swordsman Feyd decide to give the audience a show they have never seen before. He reaches his hand to his waist and clicks off his sheild. The action does not escape the crowd everyone is stunned as they gasp.

“DAMN YOU FEYD!” The Baron shouts. He slams his fist on his chair knocking over his drink in his booth. It was the most important thing he said to him, wear the sheild to protect your life. He almost trembles knowing his future Baron is risking his life to prove himself.

Feyds barb-men know this is a mistake and call out to him begging to help.

He waves them back

Swiftly, Feyd Rautha moves to the center of the arena where all can clearly see. He crouches and waits for the advancing swordsmen.

"I do not fear you, Harkonnen swine I’ll have you dead beside me!" The swordsman yells

Feyd-Rautha grins so far the swordsman taunts are the only things that have landed.

The swordsman lunges and they dodge each before clanging sword to knife. The swordsman is on the defense. Feyd begins slicing his knife and sword together trying to gut the mans torso. The man keeps pace retreating backwards defending Feyds onslaught.

The swordsman locks his stance and stabs his sword upward at the advancing Feyd who leans back avoiding a stab through his chin. The swordsman sees Feyd off kilter and goes for another slice.

Feyd sees his movements and goes for the short stab. The swordsman shifts and quickly grabs Feyds blade handle before he can pierce his ribs. Both men struggle for power holding the handle of Feyds short blade.

Feyd aims the blade to the man neck going for the kill beginning to struggle from exhaustion. At that instant the strength of the swordsman tips the knife back at Feyd.

Feyd watches as the blade shakily inches closer and closer directly for his left eye "You will DIE, Harkonnen!" The soldier yells. Feyd lets out a maniacal laugh experiencing one of the best thrills of his life, he locks eyes with the tip of the blade and then the swordsman as he faces his certain death. “JUST DIE!" The swordsman shouts exerting all of his strength.

Feyd regains the knife and plunges the blade into the swordsman throat . He holds him close by the back of his head sword still imbedded “You fought well Atreides” Feyd whispers. He pulls out his blade and lets the man suffocates on his own blood.

He steps back a space between them sufficient enough for his long blade. Feyd heavily slashes down the soldiers chest with all his strength. He draws a deep gash severing his pectoral muscles. The agony is instant for the swords man. He drops his blade to the ground.

The man disengages himself, staggering backwards

Feyd Rautha stands in silence tilting his head to the side with a cold eeriness. His eyes watch the slowed motions of the man.

Feyd stands tall and inhales enjoying the man’s slow suffering. There is a look on the swordsman’s face now for every watcher to recognize. Death was written there.

The man staggers forward one dragging step at a time reaching for Feyd while clutching his throat.

Feyd draws back at each step to give death its space.

Sadness contorts his mouth. He slumps, then stiffens and falls face down at Feyd Rauthas feet.

Feyd advances in the silent arena, he puts his boot under the swordsman torso and rolls him onto his back to give the galleries a clear view.

There is an eruption of noise from the stands and galleries around him. They are cheering with wild abandonment.

Feyd-Rautha turns, looking up to them and raises his knife triumphantly in the air. He keeps his arm out stretched as he walks the length of the arena declaring his victory.

All are cheering in adulation except the Baron. He sits with hands to his chin in deep contemplation on Feyds defiance. The Count and his lady, both stare down at Feyd, their faces impressed with smiles to tell the good news to the Emperor. Feyd-Rautha is a worthy successor, a skilled fighter with valor, admired by his people.

Your sisters are thrilled by his skill and stunned by his brutality. As you witness hundred of thousand chanting his name and screaming for him as he walks through the arena you understand how much of an influence a Feyd has over the entire populous of Giedi Prime, they adore him.

His birthday is a holiday, his family controls the largest army in the galaxy and he is rich beyond all measure. He can take over and rule any time he wants.

Na Baron Feyd Rauthas Birthday Celebration

You and your twelve Bene Gesserit sisters walk down the long dark main halls of the Harkonnen fortress. All beautifully dressed in gowns. It is night fall and fireworks explode flickering light around the halls through the glass ceiling. The entire city is lit up in celebration of Na Baron Feyd Rauthas birthday.

You are wearing the black dress Feyd personally had designed for you. The hooded gown is sleeveless and backless with a high thigh split. A special snap seam installed to protected your modesty. The fabric of the gown swishes as you walk in heels. Your excitement growing as you are about to see Feyd again.

You arrive at the glass dome. It is an enormous structure with a 360 degree view of the city skyline. As the doors open you are greeted with the sound of Giedi Prime music the large dome is decorated with banners honoring Feyd Rautha. There is a decorated platform stage and six long tables arranged in rows to seat several hundred to dine and be entertained for the evening.

The Baron ordered you to be brought at latest moment possible to minimize your time and contact with Feyd on his birthday. You are to be sent directly back to your quarters after his ascension ceremony. Feyd is cunning and calculated he has already planned for this.

The dome is filled with dignitaries, nobles and the Harkonnen inner circle. They nod or bow as you enter depending on their status. Your Bene Gesserit sisters are gestured to a separate table. You are taken to sit with Feyd. As you reach the center of the dome you take a glance at him.

He stands from his seat at the head of the table. Wearing all black. He is dressed high collar with a regal cape that crosses his chest. He has a silver medallion of his family crest pinned to the left side at his shoulder. He looks like a very handsome dark prince.

Feyd sees you and already he wants you. So stunning in the dress he had made for you his heart rate increases. He misses you by his side, it’s been days. It’s at that moment he realizes he will be Baron and proudly rule with you at his side.

As you approach him your doe yes meet with his hunters gaze. You have to catch your breath as you are standing next to him the heat is practically radiating from him. The servant pulls out your chair and seats you at the head of the table beside Feyd.

His eyes never leave your profile, finally you take a glance over at him and smile. His hands caresses your shoulder. You lean in and give him a chaste kiss. His lips linger he needs to be inside of you again. He can’t live any other way.

“It was an honor to dedicate my 100th win to you today my Baroness” he confesses. You smile at him adoring the affectionate name. It is the first time he hasn’t called you his pet. You appreciatively plant another kiss on his lips as a reward this one is slower.

He gets riled more with each kiss you give him, the longer you sit next to him the more he has an urge to breed you. He fidgets with his signet ring on his pinky trying to channel down his sexual craving for you. He hopes the ceremony is over soon so he can reclaim you. He traces his finger over your neck your love marks from him have completely faded.

His eyes never look away from you. He trails his fingers down your back, down your shoulder, he can’t keep his hands off you. Unable to contain himself any longer he reaches beneath the table places his hand on your thigh at the slit. His fingers caress and feel your soft skin there. You let out a breath as he pulls one leg away from the other. You feel his fingers inch between your thighs as you start to go weak.

“Feyd…” he cuts you off leaning in close to your ear. He pushes his hand between your legs resting at your pussy “I had this dress made especially for my birthday” he says smiling against your ear “Because I knew..” he pops one snap of your seam “ I was going to have you..” he pops the second one “sitting right next to me” his finger slides open the third seam. You are completely exposed.

He is so calculated and sensual your core pulls tight as your breathing increases from his touch. You want him. “Take me to your chamber” you plead in a whisper to him “It’s a ceremony in my honor we’ll have to wait”’ he smirks giving you a kiss on the shell of your ear. “But I want to enjoy a little gift first” he says glancing between your legs.

He presses his fingers onto your folds finding your clit, as he pinches it and you let out a breath. Your thoughts are cut short as you grip the chair. He’s found your entrance and begins pushing his fingers inside of you. He nuzzles his nose against your ear and plants soft kisses on your jaw. When he fully inserts his fingers deeply inside your tight walls you begin falling apart. Your mind goes fuzzy as you try to remain composed.

Feyd rests his head against yours and peeks up through his lashes. He notices Count Fenring and Lady Margot watching him intently at the table. He smirks and turns you to face to him.

Your cheeks are flushed your eyes are pleading. You are drawing too much attention. He places two fingers under your chin pulling you into a kiss. Even though everyone in the vicinity knows what he’s doing at the head of the table no one dares to intervene. They avert their eyes, Feyd Rautha reigns supreme in the Harkonnen fortress especially on his birthday.

You feel overwhelmed with passion as he slowly thrusts his fingers curling them into you. His eyes search yours, he knows you are going to cum you’ve been without him too long. He fingers you faster and your walls begin to throb. As he kisses you he collects your first small moan in his mouth.

You begin to panic realizing he’s going to make you silently cum in front of all the most important people in the galaxy it makes your core even tighter. He rests his left arm around you and gently guides your lips to his neck holding you against to him.

As your lips press on his sensitive flesh you begin to suck and bite his neck to keep yourself quiet. His fingers move deeply inside of you and rub against a certain spot that makes your wall begin to rhythmically flutter. When the feeling becomes too pleasurable you instantly cum for him and bite his neck to stifle your moans.

His throat tenses and releases as your walls clench on his fingers. He holds your face to his neck wanting you to bite him once more. You sink your teeth into his neck even harder the second time as you come down leaving a mark. You hear him groan and feel a chill run through his body as you release your bite.

You quickly whisper “Did I hurt you?” He whispers back in your ear “ Yes…I want more.” He brings your hand to his cock and you feel you how hard he is from your bite. So many ideas form in your mind recently discovering his kink cabinet. You give him a soft kiss on his neck over the bite mark. You know what your birthday gift to him will be.

His name is suddenly called by his uncle.

“Na Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen!” His uncle calls him to the stage Feyd quickly slips his fingers and lips from you. He whispers in your ear “After I receive my award make an excuse to leave and find my Page he will sneak you to my quarters” he instructs. You give him a quick kiss and he heads up to the stage. He discreetly sucks his fingers enjoying your taste as he walks up the upstairs.

Feyd approaches his uncle standing tall and reluctantly kneels in front of him. The Baron places around his neck the ancient Prime Giedi stone necklace signifying he has reached his ascension.

As the audience erupts in applause he stands back up staring down at his obese weak uncle. The only thing in his way of having you and becoming Baron is this detestable old man too evil to die.

Feyd smiles to himself, ruling Giedi Prime as Baron with his Baroness is his first goal. Becoming Emperor with you as his Empress is next.

“Feyd come speak with me in my chambers I have something I’d like to tell you in private. It’ll only take a moment” His uncle requests. Feyd looks to the table seeing you are gone. His frustration sets in wanting to be with you.

Normally he would enjoy escaping his birth day festivities but this time he wanted to be with you instead. Every second being taken from being with you infuriates him.

Once Feyd is at the Barons chambers he is stopped by the guards. Feyd waits several minutes until he is allowed to enter. His uncle as always using power plays to make him wait.

The guards open the door to his personal spa room. The Baron sits in his tub smoking hookah, two pleasure slaves on his right.

Feyd has been waiting for an opportune moment to set his plan in motion and this just might be it.

He smirks to himself at the brilliant idea he formed the day his uncle removed you from him. The day he swore he’d kill him. He will drug one of his uncles pleasure slaves with a slow acting toxin in the blood stream. One that will kill the Baron from prolonged contact. The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen will die a slow and painful death. Leaving the throne to his already appointed successor. Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen.

Feyd stands up taller breaking the long silence “You summoned me uncle?” He asks growing impatient. “Yes Feyd it’s about your Baroness. You've refused every pleasure slave sent to you and I understand now you’re going to save your cock for her …forever.”

He swishes his hand through the air as if trying wipe away the idea “What a waste, do you know how much your pleasure slaves beg for you? What does your wife have a cunt made of gold? ”He asks off handedly. “If you keep talking about my wife’s cunt I’m going to down you in that tub” Feyd says with his hidden rage seeping through.

His uncle chokes out a laugh “Dont be hasty, you’ll rule Giedi Prime soon enough. But I need you to show her who you really are, why you haven’t terrified her yet I don’t understand. I saw your blood lust in the arena today how much longer do you think she’ll allow that hmm?

You must dominate her and break her. If you do that, if I see you break the spirit in her defiant eyes then I’ll know you have absolute control of her. I will grant you my blessing to become Baron.” He takes a drag from his hookah pipe “But know this Feyd,I will never have a woman rule my people with my nephew as a puppet.”

Feyd knows no matter what he does his uncle will find another excuse to deny him of having you. He will use you as his weakness just as he does now. There is no pleasing the man he is a bottomless pit.

There is one way Feyd can change his fate. He points to his pleasure slaves “Uncle how can you discern which is your favorite?” He asks. “Oh they have no names or faces they are an object of satisfaction” he chuckles smoking on his pipe. Hmmm Feyd thinks, to himself, so I will have to poison them both.

Pleasurable Pain

The Page unlocks the door to Feyds room handing you the key and bows leaving your presence. You smile as you enter remembering his room all over again. As you remove your heels you already know how want to surprise him tonight.

On his birthday you are going to use his own kinks on him. You quickly take his display case keys and unlock the kink cabinet door. You pull aside several items and blend them on the sex toy table at the foot of his bed. A few cock rings, the glowing liquid, black nipple clamps, and four restraints. You will start with what you know.

You lift the blanket from his bed and lock a chained cuff to each post replacing the blanket hiding them in plain sight. You are quite pleased with yourself.

When Feyd enters the chamber looking stressed you almost change your mind to make love to him instead. You rush to him “What is it what happened?” You hold his face he looks even more stunning in the low lighting of his chamber. He immediately begins kissing you cradling your head in his hands. He pulls your hood down revealing your hair.

“I’ve done something that will secure our future. I didn’t realize the things I would do to get you back until you were taken away from me” he admits. You search his eyes “Your ascension?“ you ask trying to narrow down what he means. “Yes it will be sooner than expected, no one will be able to separate you from me again” he says tracing his thumb down the side of your face.

“I dreamt of you every night you weren’t with me“ he says softly kissing you lips “In my dreams I would fuck you” he whispers as he kisses you neck “I would fuck you until my cum spilled out of you” he says as he stops to look you in the eyes “and when I woke up I wanted you even more” he confesses. You begin slowly kissing each other lost in a passionate reunion.

You softly break the kiss looking into his eyes.

“Come with me “ you say and take his hand leading him to the bed. You sit on the edge and he begins to take his place on top of you but you stop him placing your foot at his waist keeping him at a bay. He smirks looking down at your dainty foot holding him back and then up into your eyes meeting your heated gaze.

“Take off all your clothing for me” you request. He immediately unclasps his cape letting it fall to the floor. You bite you lip watching how quickly he undresses for you.

You realize he listens and will do everything you say. Your eyes light up once he’s completely naked.

“Kneel”you point it the space infront of you. Feyd drops down on his knees infront of you

After witnessing the power and strength he has over an entire planet seeing him completely naked kneeling at your feet is surreal. You test your limits “Play with your cock Feyd-Rautha” you command.

When you see him grab his shaft in his fist and begin to pump his cock you immediately get wet. Chills cover the expanse of your body as he keeps going never breaking eye contact with you

” Feyd.. stop..” you say voice faltering from arousal. You spread your legs open in your gown. He can already see you glistening folds. “Come please me” your voice is just above a whisper due to your passion for him.

He places his hands at your waist and you rest your palms back on the bed. He tilts your hips in his hands to aim upward to his face. He grabs your legs one at a time placing them over his pale muscular shoulders. He scoops one hand around your hips pulling your pussy toward his face, sliding between your thighs on his shoulders. You let out a moan as his mouth connects between your legs.

You immediately place your hand on his head holding him close. “Feyd you feel so good” you praise him as he licks you with his warm tongue making your clit begins to pulse. He’s becoming your weakness.

You look up in then mirror on the ceiling and see he’s stroking his cock in his other hand. He’s overwhelmed with arousal as he eats your pussy. It drives you insane. You moan from the sight you need to please him.

“Feyd lay on the bed” you request breathlessly. He removes his mouth from you licking his lips. You stand as he climbs to rest in the middle. You look at his musclular pale body laying on the black sheets. His cock is already hard from eating you out and playing with himself. You lose your focus but quickly recover with your plan.

You climb on the bed and straddle his abs. You completely dressed with him naked. He places one hand on your hip and the other under your clit. You pull his hands away and his eyes look surprised.

You take his right hand and stretch his arm to lay flat on the bed. You lift the sheet and bring out the hidden leather restraint wrapping it around his wrist pulling the buckle tight. He has a wicked smile as he stares at you realizing your cleverness.

With one hand already strapped he willingly lays the other one down. You wrap and pull tight his second wrist restraint. His eyes flash with excitement from your surprise. You climb off of him and he spreads his legs letting you strap both ankles.

You stand back and admire your work, the physically dominating Feyd Rautha restrained on a bed for your pleasure. It exhilarates you beyond compare. The fact that he can’t move excites you even more you trail your hand from his ankle to his thigh.

You reach his chest and lightly scratch your nails down to his rock hard abs “If I hurt you will you tell me?” You ask sweetly. His cock twitches “Yes Baroness” he answers. The way he says your title makes your core hot “What will you say so I know if it hurts too much?”you ask innocently. You can’t help yourself as you slide your fingertip along his stiff cock.

“Red door” he says with an already established phrase. “Have you ever used ‘red door’ before?” You ask curiously. He has a devious smile as he tilts his head back reminiscing. He quickly meets your gaze again “No” he says confidently.

You are not the pain inflicting type but you see how he enjoys it so you will try for him.

You take your dress off until you are completely bare. He stares, eyes looking at your face and then your body. His heart rate increases finally seeing you exposed to him after being without you for days.

You go to the sex toy table and pick up a thick rubber ring to fit around his girth. You climb on the bed kneeling between his thighs. His cock is so large the way it towers between his thighs makes you overcome with arousal.

You regain your focus and bring the cock ring to place on him. He stops you “I want the tighter one the purple one” he requests. You smile at his boldness and exchange the rings at the table.

Before you climb on the bed he directs you further “In my night stand get the vial with the shimmering liquid inside of it.” he adds “What is it?” You ask finding the vial. “it’s lubricant..and it’s sweet“ he says with a grin that makes you blush.

You bring it with you and kneel between his legs. You glide the lube all over his already hard cock. It feels good to him as you coat his shaft up to his tip. His chest begins rising and falling as he stares at you enamored.

You take your hands and place the purple ring above his tip he watches intently. You glide the tight ring slowly all the way down his cock. He exhales sharply feeling it roll as you settle it at the base.

You watch as his tip becomes pinker and then his shaft as his tip turns red. His veins begin to show prominently pulsing. The urge to suck him or ride him is overwhelming but you also know he wants to be tortured.

You need his touch to continue, crawling up to him you begin kissing his lips. He kisses you back so needy for you. It’s been days he doesn’t want to let you go. You break the kiss and look him in his eyes “You’ll cum on my command” you say it just the way you remember him saying it to you “Yes Baroness “He says it so obediently you smile and kiss him one more time.

As you climb over his chest he stares up at your pussy inches from his face. He opens his mouth begging to taste you. But you flip around. Your face inches over his cock your pussy directly in his face.

He begins groaning as he feels you suck on him, tasting his cock sweet from the lubricant drives you insane with lust. Your pussy is spread in his face as you kneel and suck him. He yanks his wrist against the right restraint to touch you forgetting it’s chained.

He tilts his head back and watches you in the mirror on his ceiling. Your beautiful waist and back, your head slowly bobbing in his cock, he swallows thickly. He fights to stop his hips from thrusting in your mouth as you suck him so deeply. He knows you are enjoying the sweet lubricant on his cock.

He tilts his head down to see your folds are glistening more just from sucking him. When he sees your delicate fingers slide Into your pussy he loses all his resolve “ free me” he begs. You ignore him and slide your fingers in and out of your entrance sweetly moaning on his cock. He tosses his head back against the pillows chest heaving you are pleasurably torturing him.

Suddenly you stop sucking him and get up. You slowly run your finger through your slit collecting your wetness for him “Is this what you crave?” You ask bringing your fingers to his mouth. He readily sucks the arousal from you. When his eyelids flutter you quickly remove your finger from with mouth. “More ” he demands. His voice is deeper full of unbridled lust.

You reach and pinch his nipple hard instead watching his reaction. “Harder!” he commands. His voice rising from sexual frustration. He’s getting so aggressive it’s making you go timid.

You see the deep rooted insanity in his eyes wanting to feel pain. You know what he needs and go to the sex toy table returning with black nipple clamps. You kneel on the bed beside him.

His cock twitches and he tilts his hips from the bed almost unable to contain his excitement as he sees you dangle the black chain over his chest. These are different, inside the black metal clamps there are tiny needle spikes to inflict even more pain.

You clamp one nipple and then the other. You squeeze the clamps making the spikes pinch even harder into his delicate skin. You finally get a groan from him. He opens his mouth taking deep breaths as his eyes go wide feeling the arousal forming in his groin from the pain.

You gently take the chain and hold it in your fist. You pull the chain up and his nipples begin slowly stretching being pierced by the spikes. An agonizing scream finally rips from his throat as his body goes rigid, he breathes like he can’t get air to his lungs. You feel so tormented that he likes this.

You lean over and kiss him in his greatest moment of pain shocking his body rendering him senseless. His cock gets harder and begins to twitch. You release him from the kiss and pull the chain tighter.

He lets out a choked off moan as he cums without you even touching him. His cock spasms as he releases rope of after rope. His sperm covers his abs and his thighs. You release your hold on the chain and his breathing finally returns to normal. He rests his head back trying to process what happened.

You lean close to him again caressing his forehead with your hand. You shake your head in mock disappointment “I didn’t say you could cum” you say with a smile. You unclamp his nipples one at a time. The tiny piercings made from the spikes left pin pricks of blood on his nipples.

He has a wicked grin as he stares at you then he throws his head back and lets out a maniacal laugh. He realizes you are doing everything he did to you on the first night. “Let me kiss you” he says in appreciation. He is heavily panting enjoying your game his mind at ease now that the clamps are off. You shake your head no “let me kiss where you need it the most” he begs looking at the wetness between your thighs “no reward for you yet” you say sweetly.

You leave him tied and dab the blood from his nipples and clean him up wiping all the cum from him.

When he played this game before he was usually being flogged choked and humiliated by his pleasure slaves, lots of spit swapping and pain. It would take him over an hour to finally cum and they would fight over who drank it.

Then he would tie and torture them not caring for their pleasure but enjoying the way they screamed like unhinged animals as he fucked them to the point of injury. Looking back it feels like an out of body experience. He can’t even trace back to when it began but he believes as an adolescent his uncle must’ve made the arrangements.

He is deep in thought as you settle between his legs again. This time you have the glowing arousal fluid he doesn’t take notice. You slip his cock ring off. You are going to coat his length and have him push the arousal fluid it inside of you.

Of all his sex things you love this liquid the most the orgasms are so intense you feel the pleasure in every space of your body like your are floating in ecstasy.

You watch his eyes widen but you’ve already slathered his cock tip. “This is for females its going to make me cum instantly “ he cries out. You immediately close the bottle you didn’t realize.

He begins to feel his cock tip pulsing he closes his eyes and grits his teeth as his face flushes. “What do I do!” You panic. He opens his eyes and stares at you he can’t even think his cock is hardening as all the blood rushes to his tip and begins pulsing. His pupils have gone so wide the only color showing is black “I’m going to cum” is all he manages to say.

You quickly climb on his lap and sink down on his length. You feel the pinch of stretching on his size too quickly as you both let out moans.

Feyd is going listless breathing through his teeth, he holds out with every fibre of his being wanting to give you an orgasm. He is grateful you didn’t coat his full cock.

You place your hands on his chest and begin to ride him. The arousal fluid spreads quickly hitting directly into your cervix.“ Feyd your cock feels so good” you moan out as you clench on him.

You begin riding up and down on him wanting the feeling to last forever. He bucks his hips back into you as you both make sounds of pleasure. The arousal fluid softens your walls so well you want more you want him harder and deeper.

You work so hard your pace begins to falter you can’t even ride him, the feeling is so intense you just moan with your hands on his abs. “free me” his voice brings you back to the planet.

You lock eyes with him and nod. You reach and unbuckle one of his hands and then the other. He rises up against you with his powerful chest and wraps you in his arms hugging you tightly.

With his ankles still in restraints he places one hand on the bed for leverage and hold you to him as he slams his cock up into you.

You scream he’s going so hard. You hug him around his neck feeling his abs contracting as he thrusts. He begins pounding into you. The arousal fluid working perfectly the harder he fucks the more pleasurable it feels for you. As you gasp for air he grunts against your ear fucking you to pieces.

He doesn’t slow down not once for anything his hips clap between your legs until you cum. Your clit pluses as your walls flutter and begin to milk his cock. You place your mouth on his moaning throat as you bite him as hard as you can. He deeply groans from the pain and bursts rope after rope inside of you filling you with his cum. You whimper on his neck the feeling is so euphoric.

He feels his cock empty inside of you as he holds you in his lap panting heavily in your ear. You release your teeth from his neck. You have clearly marked him. You see the deep red circle of your bite and plant a kiss. He hugs you closer and presses your head to rest on his shoulder. He strokes down your back and rests his head to yours enjoying the intimate moment.

You suddenly sit up remembering he’s still restrained. You turn to the side in his lap unbuckling one ankle and then the other. He pulls his knees up bringing you back to him in his lap. “You want to see some thing” he asks with a smile. “Of course” you say. “It’s something I do every year on my birthday.” He admits. You both get out of bed. He puts a black cloaked robe on you then he puts one on himself and you sneak out of his chambers.

Secret Celebration

He holds your hand and guides you through the fortress trying to remain unseen. There are still guests in the halls . When he peeks around a corner and sees a group of delegates he puts a finger to his lips signaling you to remain silent . He waits until they aren’t looking then takes your hand and you slip unseen into a darkened corridor. He finally brings you up a large flight of stairs to a pair of stone doors at the top.

As you enter everything is black marble it is a large space with a giant scale window as a back drop with a view of the Capitol. All the lights are off only the moonlight shines through the gigantic window.

From what you can tell it looks like a spa lobby. He takes you to a smaller corridor with several opaque glass doors. He stops at the sixth one and pushes it open.

There is a floor to ceiling window viewing the capital and a large indoor rock pool in the center of the room. Feyd pulls his robe off and gets in halfway. He waits for you to remove your cloak and holds his hand out to make sure you get in safely over the flat marble edge.

The water is warm and relaxing. You smile as you sink in to your neck and then submerge your head fully. You resurface and it is quite dark in the room aside from the city lights and the glowing moon shining in the window. You look over and see Feyd resting back against a marble edge. He gestures you to come.

You swim over to the shallow end and he pulls you next to him.

Feyd rests his head back against the marble ledge to stare at the city lights, you join him and do the same “Get ready” he says. Suddenly one by one fireworks begin to burst across the entire city until they expand the entire skyline. It lights up the entire room.

You sit up and stare at the white bursts for miles you hear the sound of horns and drums begin. The entire capitol is having an enormous celebration for him.

“Feyd aren’t you supposed to be at your party?” you suddenly realize in shock” he grabs you by the upper arm pulling you to straddle his lap in the water. “I’d rather be here with you ” he says with certainty.

You stare at his full lips and into his blue eyes you are falling madly for him your mind starts racing remembering all of your Bene Gesserit training your first loyalty is to the order. You try to look back at the fireworks to gather your mind but he quickly brings his hand out of the water guiding your face back to his.

Your breathing is labored as you stare into his eyes. He gazes into yours like you are his only object of affection in the entire universe, before you realize it you are kissing him.

It’s heavier and different it makes your heart ache from guilt. As you kiss him the guilt of your betrayal to the Bene Gesserits worries you less and less until not at all.

“I want to fuck you while we watch the fire works he says” he says. You look in his eyes and smile, he loves sex so much. He stands up holding you and you wrap your legs around his waist kissing him as he carries you through the water to the other ledge closer to the window. He grabs your slippery waist turning you over chest flat on the marble ledge.

He reaches his hand between your legs beneath the water. He checks your entrance the water sealed you tight you aren’t ready. He lifts your waist out of the water so your stomach and chest are on the marble ledge. Then he kneels as devours your pussy from behind.

Your moans echo the room not expecting it. As you begin to get wet he slides his finger in working you open. Your mind is going blank just taking everything he’s giving you. He rests one knee on the underwater ledge to be level with you. When presses his cock tip to your entrance and you gasp. Your heart is already pounding wildly in your chest.

His cock penetrates you hard stuffing you full. You let out a deep moan as you try to adjust to his size. This time he lets you. He pulls you back into the water so your knees rest on the ledge. He places one foot on the on the floor and the other on then ledge with you.

When he thrusts into you the water makes you move all around. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and presses your chest flat on the marble for more leverage. As his thrusts get harder you whimper and moan trying to stay sane.

He loves the feeling of your cunt being stretched around his thick cock. He pulls you back to him and begins to whisper in your ear as he thrusts unable to contain his arousal for you “You enjoy being stretched around my cock don’t you, I love the sounds you make for me.” You can’t form words only deeper moans as you nod.

He presses himself fully inside of you smacking his hips into you as his cock pushes into your cervix “I can barely fit inside of you and still your pussy tries to suck me in” he says voice straining voice full of arousal as he thrusts harder. He feels you clench on him and he groans in pleasure. His cock twitches knowing his reward when he makes you cum. He gives your cheeks a nice smack for feeling too good.

He leans over you pressing your chest flat on the marble. He places his hands on top of yours intertwining his fingers locking you down.

He licks a long wide stripe up the middle of your back starting between your shoulder blades.

You begin letting out pleasurable moans. Your eyes close enjoying the feeling of his wet slick tongue exploring your body.

When he turns animalistic like this it sends chills up your spine triggering your climax. Your nipples harden as he settles his tongue at the crook of your neck. He licks and sucks there with such fervor your throat pulses as he creates the bruise, you rhythmically clench on his cock.

He bites his black teeth into the delicate skin of your throat and your walls begin throbbing as the tightness in your core intensifies. He takes one arms to wrap around your torso pulling you back to him and shortens his thrusts.

They begin to pierce through your tight walls as he sucks more loving bruises into your neck. You are moaning so loudly it’s edging him on. He begins to grunt against your neck feeling his cock swell tighter ready to cum.

Feyd suddenly stops his movements, holding you still. He hears voices from the lobby. You are both panting loudly as he covers your mouth.

He hears the hushed voice of one of his uncle’s his advisors “Yes he is here m’Lord however he’s in the throes of passion with his Baroness and it being his birthday I didn’t want to disturb him.” “The throes of passion?!“ his uncle angrily whispers

“Yes m’Lord it was louder before but if were quiet maybe you can still hear them.” They all fall silent to listen . Feyd remembers his uncles words about dominating you into submission and he smirks. “ To get them to leave I’m going to need you to scream like bloody murder for me” he whispers and you nod.

He pushes you down flat against the marble lifting your submerged half out of the water. He pins you down with his hand at the back of your neck as he begins to use you.

“Time to fill my tight little cunt up” he yells spanking you as he thrusts. The distraction sends shocks through your body and makes your clit pulse. He spanks you again and you let out a loud moan as your mind goes fuzzy.

His breaths get heavier as he plows his cock harder into you and your body goes listless. Your moans are unending as he fucks you onto the marble.

“Scream for me! “ he yells and he spanks you hard as you moan in pleasure. He spanks you again and again and again until it begins to hurt and your brain clicks you are supposed to pretend scream in pain. The sound rips from you throat so loudly it reverberates the walls. It sends a chill through Feyd.

The Baron and his men look to each other all too stunned to speak “The boy listens after all “ the Baron finally speaks up with an grin “He’s finally training that defiant wife of his, I just need to hear it a moment more and we can leave” the Baron listens as you scream “Feyd please…no …please…stop!” followed by a blood curdling scream .

A deep laugh reverberates in the Barons chest he loves the terrified screams of women. Especially being caused by a Harkonnen “She won’t be right for weeks, once the healers stitch her up she will no longer be a problem” the Baron chuckles to his men as they depart the spa.

Feyd hears the noises of his uncle and his advisors leaving the spa.

He pulls you back up against him and covers your mouth to make you orgasm without them hearing. He pinches your clit until it begins throbbing then he rubs it increasing in pressure until you are overwhelmed moaning into his hand.

He thrusts into you at his hardest. Pummeling into your body until he can no longer hold out. He releases his load into you as you both orgasm. You moan pleasurably as your walls milk him of his seed. His hips stutter as he groans emptying his cock into you. He releases your mouth and it takes you both several moments to recover.

The fireworks slowly begin to die down and you rest your head back against his shoulder. He always fucks you until you’re exhausted. “Feyd I’m tired” you admit. “Your chambers are closer let’s sleep there tonight” he decides. You collect your robes and sneak out together.

A Change of Fate

When you get to your chambers your handmaiden sleepily opens the door. When she sees Feyd-Rautha her eyes widen in fear “m’Lord, Na Baroness “she stutters as she bows ushering you inside . She dare not remind Feyd of his uncles rule of his visitation restriction for fear he will slit her throat.

Feyd looks around your sitting area at all the books you’ve collected from the library on your tables. He notices one stack in particular. Every spine on each book reads ‘Harkonnen’ his eyes widen in apprehension, you’ve been digging into his family history.

You open the doors to your chambers and he sees the room is full of color and life. Accustomed to the monotone grayscale of the fortress he is stunned. There are vibrant flowers , paintings, candles, decorative vases and sculptures through our your bed chamber. All of the linens are patterned in shimmering colors of gold and powder blue. A pillow of each color and shape matches the bedding.

There are gifts all over your room some even unopened. When he slowly realizes they are for your pregnancy he hesitates unable to say anything. You see the concerned look in his eyes and smile lovingly gesturing him to come to you.

He holds you close and you take your hand to his temple. Your fingers delicately caress him there to transfer him calming energy. After a moment his eyes soften and he feels the apprehension of fatherhood lifting and changing.

His fear is replaced with serenity. The female he cares for the most is carrying his heir and he will cherish her. Whether he can be a good father or not is a test of time. His mind begins expanding onto a new intrusive thought.

He can barely even remember his own father, he has only known the Baron. He struggles to recall a distorted memory . His uncle screaming at him that his father had betrayed the Harkonnen name and he would no longer be the alias Feyd-Rautha Rabban but now Harkonnen. It is a core memory he can stem his resentment from.

You grow weary and place your hand on his chest. You are barely able to keep your eyes open. His eyes refocus and realize it is very late. He locks his feelings deep inside of him self again. He needs to be prepared for another fateful event happening soon.

As you go to rinse your face and cleanse your mouth. He calls your hand maiden, “Find my Page have him bring my clothing and personal effects here I’m staying the night” she nods hesitantly and departs.

She finds his Page relaying Feyds message and ensures her reputation by reporting Feyds defiance to the Barons Lord in waiting. The Lord in waiting shoos her away something far more misfortunate has happened in the Barons chamber. He and two of his pleasure slaves are found naked and unresponsive. Their skin displaying a faint purple hue. Fearing disease or an airborne poison they seal the chamber until the healers can arrive.

You emerge from the basin room yawning as you disrobe and climb into bed. Feyd looks over you and smiles as he takes his robe off and climbs into bed next to you.

He stretches in the feeling of your silk sheets caressing him all over his body. He pulls you to him and brings your arm across his chest making you hug him. You press a kiss to the bite mark on his neck“ Happy Birthday Feyd” you say as you close your eyes. He smiles and pets your head. Slaying a warrior and getting his Baroness back have been his favorite gifts. Another secret joy fills his heart as you both drift off to sleep.

Early the next morning there is a banging at the door. Feyd sits up and gets dressed already rehearsed. The handmaiden opens the door and allows the visitors entry into the seating room. Once Feyd is dressed he kneels at the side of your bed as you sleep, he strokes his thumb down your jaw, if all goes according to plan he can have you forever. He stands up prepared for the onslaught of the day.

He emerges from the bed chamber into the entry sitting room . Three advisors and six guards are waiting. The lead advisor bows “Lord Feyd Rautha the Baron has fallen ill, your presence is requested at once” Feyd doesn’t respond he tightly presses his lips not to smile and gestures them to lead. He follows them out of the room to the medical bay of the fortress.

Word travels quickly through the fortress and into the populous during the early morning hours on Giedi Prime. The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen is dying.

To Be Continued…

Part 4 Madness & Mayhem Harkonnen Reunion |Feyds Depraved Kink |Long Live the Baron4

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[perlelune]

Young God | Feyd-Rautha

The mercy you show towards an enemy in the aftermath of battle yields tragic consequences for you and your people.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen!Reader, Kynes!Reader, Kidnapping, Unrequited Love, Mentions of cannibalism, Knife Play, Masochism

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

The aftermath of battle is often the same ritual. Corpses are taken away to scavenge for bounty and salvage the water in their bodies. Moisture is too precious, too rare in the air and the dry desert sand covering your home world to be wasted. Harkonnen foot soldiers especially. No sympathy is spared for the cruel beasts who slaughter your fellow fremen, ravage your land, and bleed your beloved home planet Arrakis of its most valuable resource. The Spice. 

Today is one of these days. After fending off another attack by the Harkonnen army, your entire tribe is sifting through the desert fields. The proud white-skinned soldiers weren’t expecting the swarm of Fremen that unleashed upon them. Thankfully Muad'Dib had a vision of the attack and managed to convince enough of your people to raise their blades in unison to stand against their oppressors. While you balk at violence, preferring to stay back and sink into your role as a healer, you still wish to offer assistance in cleaning up the battlefield and checking for any potential injuries. You were a little shocked when you arrived and were struck with the realization that there is so little for you to do, the number advantage having been so overwhelming.

Still, you find a few warriors that require medical attention. Their injuries are deeper than you expect. Apparently one of the Harkonnen soldiers wouldn’t let himself be slain, unleashing a storm of fury all on his own and taking several down with him. You gingerly finish dressing your last wound, lifting your head as you notice your cousin heading north. 

Wiping the blood on your hands with a rag, you get to your feet.

“Chani, where are you going?” you inquire.

She stares ahead, crysknife in hand, determined.

“Some may have survived and slipped away from us. We’re checking the caves nearby.”

You give a nod and follow after her. “I’ll come with you.”

While your voice didn’t waver earlier, your stomach is in knots as you join the search. You and Chani split up. She points in a direction and you acquiesce, rushing the opposite way. You sneak underground, climbing down a row of steep, slippery rocks before you find a small cave.

You practically have to crawl the rest of the way inside, the lichen-draped overhang almost too bent and crooked for you to advance any further. It’s no wonder no one thought to check this place. It’s hard to imagine any wounded Harkonnen soldier gathering the strength to hide in such a place.

You’re forced to swallow your words however when you find the outline of a pale form lying across the cave floor. 

Your jaw drops. You inch closer to the corpse, already planning on calling another Fremen to help you extract the water from the body.

But the man’s chest lifts, his mouth shuddering ever-so-slightly.

Tamping down your fear, you hunker down and inspect his armor. Your brows knit. A long, deep jagged cut slashes his side. The kind of deadly injury that makes you wonder how the man is still breathing, as it’s impossible no internal organs haven't at least been nicked. 

Yet, somehow he is, still breathing that is.

Though you gather not for long based on the way blood gushes from the wound. 

You hear your name called from outside the cave. Pulse soaring, you climb your way out of the concealed shelter with haste. 

You’re faced with Chani’s questioning stare. She must be done with her own search. You note the tinge of crimson on the tip of her blade. Your insides wrench. 

The lie flows from your tongue with frightening ease.

“I already checked that one. It’s empty.”

She nods and walks away. You wait for her to be at a safe distance to return inside the cave.

As your slow, fearful steps bring you closer to the wounded man, your mind rages, at war with itself.

You are of two worlds. Daughter of the fallen Liet-Kynes, imperial planetologist, and a member of the Sietch Tabr. The Harkonnen are your people’s ancestral enemies. Oppressors who annihilate whoever stands between them and their unquenchable thirst for more wealth and power.

They are monsters. There is only one rational thing to do when one is faced with one of the pale-skinned warriors. Only one thing that is right to do.

You unsheathe the crysknife at your thigh from its scabbard. The blade is shimmery and new. So perfectly sharp. For you have never used it. Not even once.

You approach his unmoving form and lift the blade high in the air.

The crysknife in your hands quivers above his chest. It’d be so easy to end it. So quick. Over within a few minutes. You’ve seen countless members of your sietch do it, not a sliver of hesitation in their smooth, practiced motions. Some even enjoy it, reveling in seeing that spark wither in their enemies’ eyes. 

For a moment, you let yourself wonder, picture yourself snugly gripping the blade and driving it through the Harkonnen’s alabaster throat. The watery coughs he’d let out. The blood seeping from his neck and pooling around him. The light in his onyx orbs flickering before going out.

It should satisfy you. After all the evils they’ve inflicted upon your people, upon your planet, the prospect of retribution should fill you with immeasurable joy. 

Yet it doesn’t. Chest heaving, you slowly lower the weapon until it slips out of your hands, its clattering echoing in the cave.

Your shoulders sag as you unleash a tremulous breath, one you didn’t notice was even caged inside your lungs.

An unyielding truth swaddles you as you watch your pale-skinned enemy draw feeble, dwindling breaths. You can’t take a life. You are a healer, through and through.

You gasp when you suddenly feel the cold bite of metal against your throat.

Your eyes widen. The Harkonnen is awake, heavy, wheezing breaths bursting from his chest as he presses the blade against your neck.

“I-If you kill me, you will not survive,” you stammer, your chest clenching in fear. 

He shocks you by flipping the blade and handing it to you.

“Then give me a warrior’s death,” he says, his gaze unwavering. You study him. He looks worse than before. What he just did must have taken his last bit of strength. 

Steadying your hammering heart, you glower at him.

“The glory you seek isn’t in a dank cave, Harkonnen.”

As soon as he collapses over the cold, hard stones, you get to work. First, you check his pulse. Though it’s faint, you find a steady heartbeat. He must be quite strong, you surmise. You’ve never seen anyone survive this long with an injury this deep. Logically, he should be dead. 

But he isn’t. So while you shouldn’t feel this way, every fiber of your being craves to pull him from the brink. 

You peel the layers of his armor off him. Heat nestles inside your cheeks as your gaze roams over the hard, defined planes of his muscular form. You shake off the sensation, reminding yourself that you can’t proceed unless you have complete access to the wound and need to assess for other potential injuries.

You reach for your medpak and pouch. You use a mix of wound sealant and medicinal herbs to curb the bleeding. You then clean the wound with antiseptic and press onto it firmly. Eventually, it stops. Once the bleeding is under control, you pull out a needle and thread from your pouch and begin sewing the wound. Every stitch is nice and neat, so tight that you know he will barely scar. You squint as you work, the dim lighting of the cave making you miss the right spot in his skin a few times. You keep a cool head the entire time, simply starting over whenever necessary.

After the wound is sealed, you set up a hypovial with a plasma bag. Finding the bulging vein in his arm isn’t too hard. It’s quite easy in fact, as every part of him appears carved from stone. You slip a dash of spice melange in the IV. A potent cinnamon smell fills the air. Just the right amount to keep him awake. Now that his life isn’t on the line anymore, his peculiar body chemistry should do the rest and recover.

You unleash a deep breath and wipe the sweat doting your forehead. You sag against the cave wall.

Your eyes drift to the night sky, visible through a small opening in the overhang.

For the first time since you snuck inside the cave, the tension woven through your limbs comes loose.

Nights on Arrakis are a thing of beauty. You are willing to bet there are no more beautiful skies in the entire galaxy. None so clear and vast and with stars twinkling this bright. Mother used to say the same thing, that the boundless empyreans of Arrakis were the most beautiful sight she ever laid eyes upon. And as an imperial envoy, your mother traveled far across the known universe. So she must have been right.

You cast one last glance at the Harkonnen warrior. He’s stable. Or stable enough at least. 

It’s time for you to return to your sietch before too many questions are asked.

“You were gone a while,” your cousin blurts out when you return to your sietch. You weigh her tone. There is no suspicion laced in it, just curiosity.

“I was just making sure we didn’t forget any of them,” you casually reply.

Chani heaves out a deep sigh. “You don’t have to. You have no heart for killing, cousin.” She turns her focus to the rest of your tribe. “We need you here, tending to our wounded. It’s where you shine best.”

You nod in acknowledgement. No one in the sietch ever expected you to fight but you often wish that you could do more. You think of your mother’s untimely death, of the way Fremen laid down their lives today. Your heart sinks. If anyone learned of what you did, you would be exiled. Rightfully so. Your eyes wander to your cousin, now besides Paul Atreides. Longing gazes lock and fingers twine before they disappear into their shared tent. You look away.

You hope one day that twisting inside your chest whenever you see them will cease. You are happy for them; you truly are. Nevermind that you felt a pull towards the heir of House Atreides from the moment you met him, that you felt it was returned when his gaze rested upon you. That all of it vanished the moment his eyes crossed Chani’s.

A seer from your tribe foretold that a woman in your family would have a great destiny, one that will change the fate of worlds. You now understand, that woman is Chani, and she and Paul aren’t just destined to one another. They are fated.

And who are you to stand in the way of fate?

“You must be insane, girl,” the Harkonnen soldier scoffs as you remove the needle in his arm. Since he appears to have regained some color…or whatever consists of “color” for a Harkonnen, you elected to remove the plasma bag this morning.

A sliver of shame flutters through you that you were almost relieved to find him alive. You saved a life. Perhaps not the most worthy one, but a life nonetheless.

“Striking an enemy while he’s down isn’t brave,” you reply with nonchalance.

A crooked smirk cants his plump lips, baring a hint of the black teeth underneath.

“Insane and stupid then,” he sneers, the gristly echo of his voice resonating in the cave.

Ignoring the way his comment chafes you, you retrieve the little vials you packed this morning.

“Drink that.” He sits up, humming low in his throat with the movement when you’d expect him to wince or groan at the pain. It’s almost like he’s enjoying the pain he surely must be experiencing, but you discard that thought, because it’s ludicrous. What kind of person enjoys pain? “It’s water.” He studies you, making no move to grab the water. You fidget, unnerved that you can’t read his expression, his lack of eyebrows making it even more difficult. “I could only steal a little from the deathstill. It’s all I could get before anyone could see me.”

You briefly considered trading your mother’s water rings, the ones you inherited upon her death. The symbol of her standing and wealth within the Sietch Tabr.

Though while you may have saved your enemy, you want to hold on to that piece of her for as long as you can.

“I also have some food.” You rummage through your pouch to pull out dried fruits, slices of meats, bread and spice honey. It’s the best you could gather on short notice without drawing suspicion.

His dark gaze flicks over you as he taunts, “Perhaps I shall eat you. You look far more appetizing than…whatever this is.” You shudder, acutely aware that while cannibalism isn’t widespread amongst the Harkonnen…it’s also not unheard of. 

He snickers at your expression. “Do not fret, desert rose.” His gravelly voice drips with suggestion as he licks his lips. A chill runs through you as his black tongue and teeth are bared to you. “I’m not quite that hungry…yet.”

Your shift, discomfort slithering through you. There is something profoundly unsettling about the Harkonnen, even more so than a typical one. The blood leaking through the bandage draws your gaze.

“I should dress your wound and redo the stitching,” you offer, clearing your throat.

When your hand stretches towards his wound, he growls at you.

Your heart leaps and you retreat your hand.

“Please,” you insist. “You’re bleeding.”

When he doesn’t make another threatening sound, you take that as your cue. You quickly gather your supplies and approach him. The drumming of your heart inside your ears is a clamor, but you pretend it isn’t there, removing the bandage and driving the needle through his wound to sew it shut again. He doesn’t flinch, showing no hint of even feeling the needle. His sizzling scrutiny sears through your flesh, almost causing your usually steady hands to quake. You sharpen your focus, remembering your grandmother’s teachings. Steady heart, steady hands.

He tilts his head, dark gaze trained on you. “I threaten to eat you and you tend to me still. What a peculiar creature you are, desert rose.”

The days fly by in a strange haze, your days spent preparing for the new Reverend Mother while you sporadically check on the stranger. He recovers faster than you expect, even without you needing to use the spice melange again. Considering he was at death’s door when you found him, you can’t help but be a little amazed.

You sense the time to go your separate ways is near. You have done a lot, likely more than you should. The alabaster-skinned warrior is well enough to roam the desert and find his way back to his people through his own means. You brought him supplies, food and a stillsuit. Whatever befalls him will be up to fate and his own wits. You don’t plan on returning after tonight.

“You’re looking better,” you note, checking his wound for the last time. You leave the bandage for good measure even if it’s clear he doesn’t need it anymore, the wound having begun to fade since you removed his stitches yesterday.

He pins you with that unsettling stare once more.

“That song you sang…” he rumbles.

“A song?” Your head tilts as you comb through your memories. It comes back to you. You sometimes hum it to yourself. It calms you down. You didn’t even realize you’d done it in his presence. “Ah, that song.” You shrug, a small smile sneaking onto your lips. “It’s just a lullaby my grandmother used to sing to me before she passed, to teach children about the Shai-Hulud.”

He looks at you in what you believe to be confusion at the name, though you can only assume.

“Your people call them… sandworms,” you explain. “They are sacred and should be revered.”

Silence hangs between you and the Harkonnen. His deep raspy voice shatters it after some time.

“Songs…I had a blade in my hands from the moment I could walk.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, unsure what else to say. He doesn’t seem sad, more reflective, but it seems you should say something. “Do you…Do you ever think of what your life would be like if you weren’t Harkonnen?” When he looks at you blankly, a nervous laugh peals from your lips. “I’m sorry. That was a silly question.”

Your crysknife materializes in his hands from behind his back. Your blood runs cold as you pat your thigh. You don’t remember ever leaving it around him.

“My older brother...He took me from our parents when I was a baby,” he utters, sounding detached, almost as if he were recounting someone else’s life. “My uncle raised me. I don’t remember my father. And my mother…” His lightless gaze slams into yours as he smiles, exposing his glistening, black teeth. “I killed that whimpering, meddling bitch.”

Your breath snags in your throat. Perhaps…you let yourself get too comfortable around the Harkonnen. The crude reminder of who he is, who they all are, yanks you back to reality.

You bolt to your feet, coaxing a tremulous smile onto your face.

“It’s getting late. I should return home before the sandstorms grow too strong.”

As you prepare to leave, the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps above you freezes you in your tracks. Your eyes bulge. Dread sinks within you as you realize someone’s right above you.

Before a single sound can make its way past your lips, the Harkonnen’s large hand envelops your mouth. He pulls you flush against his bare chest as he whispers into your ear, “Quiet.”

His muscles go taut against you. You catch him twirling the blade with smooth precision, clearly ready to fight if need be. You hold your breath, bridling your stuttering heartbeats.

Two men in full Harkonnen livery leap inside the cave. Panic rushes through you.

However, instead of a fight breaking out, relief fills the soldier’s faces as they see him. 

“Na-baron. We received your beacon.”

Na-Baron…The air is knocked from your lungs. The title isn’t that common amidst the known universe. In fact, it’s quite unique and you only ever heard of one man from one specific house using it. Na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the heir-designate to Baron Vladmir Harkonnen. 

He is a monster, a ruthless killer…and you nursed him back to health. Allowed him to get well enough to hurt, maim and kill as he pleases. The cave seems to twirl off its axis around you.

Perhaps he was right that night. You might be an insane idiot.

You feel the subtle lift of his lips against your scalp.

“Right. Did I forget to mention my name?” he taunts, as if he could read every thought zooming across your head. Giving you no time to even try to run or fight him off, the na-Baron slams your head against a nearby wall.

Pain explodes inside your skull. Your vision dims as you grow too weak to stand, your knees buckling beneath you. You fall into his arms and he holds you against him. He strokes the side of your face, a fire burning in his onyx orbs. Consciousness slips from you, his last words reverberating inside your ears.

“You and I are going home to Giedi Prime, my desert rose.”

You awake startled, jarred by the softness of the sheets and the largeness of the bed around you. This is nothing like the cot you used to sleep on in the desert. You leap from the bed, clutching your face and hugging your frame, stunned to note you are without your stillsuit and face mask.

Instead, you are wearing a sheer white tunic that hugs your curves in a way that leaves very little to the imagination. The outfit is unlike you, impractical in every way. Your pulse escalates.

You rush to rise and nearly crash down on the bed again. 

Your forehead creases.

You wobble around, struck by the difference in gravitational pull, humidity and atmospheric pressure. Every breath you take exerts you, bearing heavily on your lungs.

Your head spins as you glance at the unfamiliar room. Every single detail of it is cold, somber, opulent.

Horror twists your insides.

You’re not on Arrakis anymore.

“You’re in the Harkonnen keep, darling.” 

The gravelly voice erupting at your back has you whirl around. A half-exposed Feyd-Rautha fills your sight, his carved alabaster muscles and bald head shimmering silver in the low light.

You swallow hard, fighting to keep yourself breathing normally in the brand new air.

“The Harkonnen Keep on…”

“Giedi Prime, yes,” Feyd-Rautha finishes.

While you understood it on your own, having it uttered out loud sends you in a renewed state of alarm. You are away from your family, your friends, your home. You are alone on a foreign planet. A hostile, enemy planet.

“In secluded apartments away from my other concubines,” he further informs. A shadow of mirth lurks in his gaze. “They’re quite the jealous kind. They may even try to take a bite out of you if they learn of your existence…” He leers at your shivering frame, making no effort to hide his lust, the evidence already bulging in his pants. “Though I don’t think I could entirely blame them.”

He inches closer to you. “How does the weight of a real planet feel?” he asks, a twisted excitement swaying in his dark orbs. “Is it crushing your bones? Is every cell in your body screaming in pain, my desert rose?” He grips your chin, studying you oddly, almost as if he wishes he could absorb every bit of your agony and discomfort.

You glare up at him, your insides white hot with rage.

“H-How could you do this? I saved you.”

He frames your chin, squeezing tightly. “Oh darling, you should have killed me…” A squeak spills from your throat as he drags his tongue across the side of your quivering cheek. His lips brush over your earshell as he mumbles under his breath. “Because there’s nowhere in the galaxy you will ever be able to hide from me now.”

“I belong in Arrakis with my people. You have to let me go,” you plead. 

You search his impassive face, scouring for an errant ounce of humanity. The emptiness you find has tears rushing to your eyes. You mourn the tragic loss of moisture, willing yourself to stop crying. Ever since you were young, you were taught never to waste your precious water...especially on something as trivial, as painfully unnecessary as tears.

...But you can't quell your weeping.

He tilts his head.

“You belong with me…No, to me, desert rose. In my arms, screaming as I ruin that pretty cunt of yours with my cock.”

Fear floods your entire being. Your eyes scan the room. A faint spark of hope blooms inside you as you spot a long, sharp knife on a stone table nearby.

Pushing past the queasiness you experience every time you move on the unfamiliar planet, you race across the room and grab the knife.

You point it at him. Instead of cowering, Feyd-Rautha opens his arms, smirking.

“Do it,” he urges, making no effort to protect himself from the sharp blade in your hand, inviting you to strike him as his tongue darts across his lips.

His uncanny anticipation coats the air. Confusion fills you.

“I will,” you say, trying to appear braver than you feel. Still, the blade quakes in your hand.

“Please. I beg of you,” he purrs, gliding towards you. As he watches you hesitate, he cruelly reminds you, “You will never go home, never see your beloved planet again. In fact,...” He hums, his eyes lighting up as if a wonderful idea just occurred to him. “I think I might slaughter some of your family and friends just for sport.”

A wave of wrath surges through you. Bereft a thought behind it, your hand slashes across his chest, a small cut forming there. Droplets of blood so dark it appears black drip down onto his alabaster flesh. 

“More…” he rasps, pleasure leaking from his gravelly voice.

The sight of the bleeding wound rattles you, causing you to retreat.

But he doesn’t let you remove the blade, his fingers cinching around your wrist and keeping its sharp tip over his bulging pec. You sob as he forces you to drag the blade across his chest, a blissful expression spreading across his features. A long dark cut oozing dark red blood decorates his body now, going all the way to his defined abs.

Terror and confusion tangle within you. You stagger backwards, the dagger slipping from your lingers and hitting the floor.

“You’re sick.”

“I didn’t realize there was such a fire inside you, desert rose. If I don’t have you now, I think I’ll go mad.” His hoarse, lewd tone scrapes against your eardrums, causing your insides to twist in dread. He cracks his neck, black tongue sweeping over his lips as he approaches you. “No, I definitely will.”

It’s the only warning you get before he tosses you on the bed and rips the clothes off your frame. Tears brimming your lashes, you squeal in protest, scratching and punching every part of him within reach. You slap him hard and he cackles, baring his black smile in sheer delight. 

“Come on, desert rose, I’m sure you can hit even harder,” he sneers. 

To make him eat his words, you hit him again. Harder than before. His laugh gets louder as you watch a faint bruise form on his cheek.

Pinning your wrists besides your head, he bends over your chest. His tongue swirls around your nipples, his cool tongue causing you to hiss and shake. Sharp teeth graze your breast and the breath hitches in your throat. You squirm on the sheets, completely at the mercy of Feyd-Rautha as he licks, bites and kisses every part of your flesh. As if he wanted you covered in marks of his ownership, wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind that you were his if they stole a glance at you. You loathe the way your traitorous body writhes and pants, a disgusting dampness gathering at the apex of your thighs. 

The tears in your eyes swell. Your body is divorcing your frazzled mind little by little, yielding to his rough, wanton touch. 

He grabs your thighs and dips between your legs, diving straight for your center. He licks a long stripe up and down your folds and you tremble. As his devilish tongue swirls around your clit, your eyes flutter, blinding pleasure building in your core. Hot waves of delight engulf you as he gathers your arousal with his tongue and drags it around your tender spot. The slow, unrelenting patterns he traces with his mouth have you fight the urge to buck your hips into his jaw. Your juices drench the entire bottom of his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind, greedily devouring your cunt as if he’ll never get to do it again.

As you quiver against him, your orgasm flowing through you, he chuckles against your wet cunt.

“Your body can’t even deny how much it craves me, desert rose.”

Shame pulses through you with his words.

He crawls over you, cutting his pants loose with one aggressive shove downwards. Only a glimpse of his thick alabaster cock, glazed with his need at the tip appears in your vision before he shoves the entirety of himself in you. The pain is so intense, flames alongside your walls, that it robs the words from your throat. He sinks inside you until his tight balls chafe your cunt, his hand wrapping around your throat while the other keeps your wrists above your head.

You whimper beneath him, defenseless against his sharp, piercing thrusts. Pleasure builds within you, his cock overwhelming you with shameful sensations each time it grazes your sensitive places, making you see stars. Gargled sounds pour from your throat as his girth splits you apart.

He grunts as your walls constrict around him, slamming into you even harder.

“You’re so delightfully tight around me, darling.” He bends over you to whisper, “I bet I’ll turn you into my perfect little cock-hungry whore in no time. Have you on your back and knees for me whenever I wish it.”

The Harkonnen heir’s pace fastens, his cock hitting spots that have you question your sanity. So delicious that you can’t help but let pathetic little moans escape from your throat.

He buries himself inside you even deeper, the pain and pleasure blending in crescendo. Your eyes roll back as you near your peak. Meanwhile, Feyd Rautha’s hunting his own release, his quick thrusts growing sharp and slow, his bald head grazing your bare chest.

Pleasure rolls over in a tidal wave, your back curling alongside the sheets. His own release comes after yours, thick ropes of his seeds painting your sore, sensitive walls. 

As you crash in a boneless heap on the sheets, he wraps his hand around your jaw and steals your lips for a sloppy, heated kiss. 

You cry out in pain as he sinks his teeth into your neck, placing a visible puncture wound that won’t disappear for a while.

Still nestled in your warmth, he scatters more bites along your shoulder.

“Any man would be insane to let you go after tasting such a sweet cunt, desert rose.”

You know he wants you to see, doesn’t want you to miss a single second of the spectacle. It was a split second moment, one that could have easily resulted in his death. 

But at the very last second, Feyd-Rautha prevailed and dodged Paul Atreides’ attack. He then proceeded to stab him in the heart in front of his heartbroken mother and your cousin. 

You don’t want to believe it. It must be an awful dream, one you will soon wake up from. One that lasted entirely too long. While seeing Paul’s body sink to the floor, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces…Watching Chani glare at you with pure hatred in her eyes from across the room is almost worse. You want to run to her, embrace her, tell her you never meant to leave, tell her you aren’t a traitor to your people despite what clothes you may wear now, what marks may brand your skin. 

But it’s all for naught. Paul is dead and with him the hopes for your planet, for your people have died as well.

And you are left with nothing, no one. A stranger in a strange world. 

It’s what he reminds you as he has you caged beneath him that night, burying himself inside you again and again with abandon. 

“You’re mine, desert rose. And nothing, no one can take you away from me. Not my uncle. Not Paul Atreides. Not the Emperor.” He chuckles darkly, whispering against your ear. “...And not even you, darling.”

He is right. You are his. And with no one to challenge the rule of the now Baron Feyd-Rautha, ruler of House Harkonnen, it is as he said…There is nowhere in the galaxy you can hide where he will not find you.

[aviawrites]

the rage of a harkonnen (dune: part two)

pairings: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Fem!Reader

summary: The Emperor’s second born daughter, Harauna, has never been truly seen by her father; Her light always being dimmed by the shine of her older sister, Irulan. As Maud’Dib continues fighting on Arrakis and her father’s spot falls farther into jeopardy, Princess Harauna sees an opportunity to finally find her place in the Imperium…Wife of the possible Emperor, ruling alongside Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. (3.9k)

a/n: i’ve already seen this movie twice and i’m going again😛 austin’s performance is so compelling, i couldn’t take my eyes off of him whenever he was on screen. i hope you all liked feyd-rautha as much as i do…otherwise i may be crazy. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: blood, death, abuse

in this story, yn is: Harauna Corrino (Harkonnen)

10191 // month 1 // 📍kaitan 

“Paul Atreides is not our only prospect.” Reverend Mother Mohiam reveals, standing before you and your sister. “The Baron’s youngest nephew, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, will inherit Arrakis. He may be the answer.”

Your eyes open wide, the name itself sending shivers down your spine. You, along with all of your family, knew of Feyd-Rautha - Knew of the Sadistic Harkonnen, known for slaughtering anyone who challenges him, even his own people. 

“Feyd-Rautha?” Irulan furrows her brows, “He’s psychotic.”

“That’s irrelevant. The question is…can we control him?” 

You stare up at the Reverend Mother’s black veil, an idea striking you.  

Since a child, it’s always been Princess Irulan - The Emperor’s daughter. Irulan will inherit the thrones, Irulan will marry Paul Atreides, Irulan will rule the empire. Never once has your father taken the time to look at you. Never once has he asked the Reverend Mother how you are as a Bene Gesserit. If he did, he’d come to learn that you’re just as equipped to take on the role of Empress as your sister. 

You know what you know - You know how impossible it is to ever be worthy of attention in your father’s eyes. The sound of marrying the prince, possibly the future Emperor, doesn’t seem distasteful. Is he a terrible man, yes. May he turn out to be a worse husband, yes. But God forgive you if you choose being the possible ruler of the empire over being second best. 

“I will marry Feyd-Rautha…” You suggest, coming out as more of a squeak. 

Their eyes dart to yours, Irulan’s gaze feeling more like knives piercing your head.

“Young Harauna-“

“No.” Your sister interjects, turning your body toward hers. “Are you crazy? Feyd-Rautha is the last man you need to marry.”

“Irulan, I want to.” You push back, your voice low. “He may be Emperor one day, we need to secure that opportunity. Do we not, Reverend Mother?”

“We absolutely do, Harauna.”

Irulan’s jaw hangs open, looking between the two of you.

“Are you serious? Reverend Mother, you know Feyd-Rautha. You’ve seen him with your own eyes - You want Hara anywhere near that?”

“She’s thinking of the Imperium, Irulan. Should Paul Atreides be alive, he will want the throne.”

“Feyd-Rautha won’t go down without a fight…” You finish for her.

“Precisely. If he loses, Paul will have a bride awaiting him.” She gestures to your sister. “But if he reigns supreme, he’ll have a Corrino by his side.”

Irulan only shakes her head, disbelief glossing in her eyes. 

“Hara…”

“Sister, I need to do this.” You whisper, softly squeezing her hands. “I can’t make decisions like you…I’m not you.”

“W- What does that mean, Hara? I don’t understand-“

“If I get in line for the throne…” You begin. “If I secure a spot for myself in the Empire, I will be nearly equal to you in father’s eyes. I’ll mean something to someone.”

A tear threatens to fall as she struggles to find words. 

“You mean something to me.” She shrugs, now wondering if that holds any value to you. “If I lose you to the Harkonnens…If I have to stay here alone while you’re on Giedi Prime I don’t know how I’ll-“ She quickly wipes her eyes, taking a breath. “I don’t know how I’ll survive this impending war without you, Hara.”

You tilt your head, bringing your hand to Irulan’s cheek. 

“Write to me, Irulan.” You smile, forcing back your own tears as you solidify this departure in your head. “Send messages to Giedi Prime, will you? Write them like you do your entries and I swear to you I’ll read each one. No matter what happens with the Harkonnen’s, I’ll always have my sister back home on my side, right?”  

A thick silence falls upon the three of you, Irulan fighting between perplex and terror as her hands began to quiver in yours.

“I’ll alert the Emperor.” Reverend Mother says, leaving the two of you.

Alone, your sister pulls you into an embrace, one of the tighter ones. She allows her tears to land on your garments, her shoulders trembling as small whimpers escape her lips.

“Don’t do this, Hara.”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

“On your birthday of all days. The Baron should know better than to jeopardize his soon to be Planetary Governor in such a public manner. You could’ve died.” 

“I would not have died.” Your husband fiddles with his blade.

“All slaves should be drugged, should they not?” You remind him. “It’d have taken only one swift slash of the Atreides’ blade and The Baron would’ve lost his heir. He’s insane.”

“Careful, wife.” He warns, “The Baron is flawed but his promises are rich.”

“What could he possibly promise you that’s more important than the entirety of this planet?”

He stares, his eyes scanning you up and down as a small smirk grows on his face. 

“The entirety of Arrakis.” 

Creases form on your forehead, your words coming out as stammers.

“…He promises you…Arrakis?”

“If I manage to control spice production.” He explains, reveling in your dumbfounded expression. 

Your mind immediately imagines your life on Arrakis, a fate you’ve never considered. The plan was to marry Feyd-Rautha, be by his side when he defeats his opponents, have your father kneel to him, and rule the Imperium from the planet of the Harkonnens. But now, thoughts of working from the dune covered planet makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. 

“But-“ You clear your throat, “Um - Is that not Rabban’s job?”

“Rabban failed.” He seethes. “He humiliates house Harkonnen with each Fremen attack he allows. With me ruling the mission, there will be no more.”

“What’s the plan? Once you’re on Arrakis who’s to say my father won’t order you out? What if he doesn’t like how you handle-“

“The Emperor has a set fate too, Harauna. If we were to expose what he did to the Atreides’, the houses would explode. A rise against the Emperor would ensue.” He nears you, looking down at your wide eyes as he bares his blackened mouth. “The throne would be ours to take.”

You don’t know if he meant to admit to what he’s admitted to. Though, you have no doubt he’d tell you his plans to kill your father to your face, indifferent to what you might think. But even Feyd-Rautha should have some sort of limit, shouldn’t he?

“Feyd…” You murmur, “What will happen to him? What will happen to my house? My Reverend Mother, my sisters? They’re innocent they don’t deserve-“

He rolls his eyes, turning away in the midst of your oration. “Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He returns to his spot across the room. “If you want to sit next to me as Empress, I suggest you straighten out a bit, hm?”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

14 hours later 

Feyd-Rautha’s room reeks of deceased Harkonnen bodies and dried blood as you storm in, a scowl on your face. 

Inside, you see your husband squatted by a dead servant, one that if you look too close you may realize is an acquaintance of yours. 

‘FEYD-RAUTHA RABBA HARKO-‘ He’s carved into her pale white skin, his letters bleeding into each other.

The Princess Harauna 3 months ago would scream at the sight. She’d turn and run, alerting her Reverend Mother and father that a cold blooded murderer has gotten into your home. Only…this is home. The man carving names into bodies isn’t a stranger, not an intruder, but the man you married. 

Though you’re not sure he knows it, seeing as you can practically taste the Bene Gesserit on him.

You shove, hard, knocking Feyd-Rautha off balance and onto the concrete floor.

“What the-

“Seriously!?” You shout, watching his bewildered expression looking back at you. “You’ve not been of age for one whole day and you’ve already betrayed me!”

“You watch yourself, woman.” He warns you, spite in his eyes. 

“I can smell her on you.” You say, knowing all of the signs of a Bene Gesserit’s work, and a sexually vulnerable Feyd-Rautha. “She could be carrying your child!”

Your husband quickly calms himself, seemingly deciding not to waste energy on someone like you. On someone like his wife.

“Would you stop that yelling?” He mumbles, turning and beginning to smear the blood across the mutilated arm.

“How dare you.” You scoff. “I’m meant to be your princess. I’m meant to be your queen Feyd-Rautha! Not some girl who was on a mission. A Bene Gesserit who was here to test you and didn’t want you for more than one night-“

“You’re not any better!” He rises, his demeanor changing like night and day in a split second. 

The minute he gets angry, his energy dominates the room. “Don’t you ever think you’re a better woman for being a power hungry leech who called dibs on the heir before anyone else.” He jabs, lowering until he’s in your face. 

Your jaw hangs open, offense quickly overpowering the fear that you often feel in the presence of an angry Feyd-Rautha. Or any Feyd-Rautha, at that. 

“I don’t need you.” Your eyes pierce his, flames igniting in yours. “I’m the Emperor’s daughter, I was second in line for the throne. If anything, you needed me to get to where you-“

The wind is knocked out of you as your husband grabs your neck, instantly cutting off your words. He grins, nearly frothing at the mouth as he always does at the slightest hint of violence. He feeds off of violence, in the face of which most people quiver he greets it with a big smile, he yearns for violence, he is violence.

“I needed you, huh?” His face about brushes yours, his saliva dripping onto you. “I wasn’t at home being neglected by daddy, Harauna. I wasn’t the second choice. I didn’t need to marry to get power. I wasn’t worthless.” 

He’s entranced, his hand on your throat tightening with each sentence until you’re sure it’ll snap. You claw at his stained hands, collecting the blood of his servants under your nails.

“Husband-“ You croak, feeling the pressure in your head increase.

Feyd-Rautha only smiles, adrenaline rushing throughout him as he contemplates letting this be the end of you. Maybe he should rid himself of this royal burden before she sits with him at the top.

“Know your place, princess.” He whispers before letting you go with a shove. 

You drop to the floor, crashing into the bloody bodies on the ground and fighting for your pipes to reopen. You frantically heave as he looks down at you once more, evil in his eyes, before he leaves you where you are. 

Weeps escape you, feeling selfish as you cry in the presence of women who got it much worse. 

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you. Nevertheless, in times like this, the possibility of being ruler of the Imperium outweighs the possibility of dying due to your attempts. 

“Be the worst position in the highest room.” Your father used to tell you, “For some never make it to the room.”

10191 // month 4 // 📍starship 

The low hum of the frigate gives the cold ambience some character. Rabban lounges across the kitchen table, his feet up on the marble. Your husband sits a few chairs down from you, sheathing and unsheathing his blade, creating a repetitive sound for the two of you to suffer through.

“Princess Harauna.” You hear as the grand doors within the starship open. A servant enters, seemingly a younger version of the Baron, with a thin metal tube in his hand. 

The big man hands it to you, bowing slightly before shuffling away.

“Say thanks to the piggy.” Feyd-Rautha teases, a devilish grin on his face.

Rabban slightly chuckles as you eye your husband, sighing before opening the letter.

“To my sister, Hara.” 

Your eyes gleam, seeming to scan faster and faster the more and more you read. The two men in the room with you don’t seem to notice, mindlessly engaging in their own boredom as the ship heats up in the weather of Arrakis. 

You shut the tube with a click, looking down at it as you weakly attempt to process what you’ve just read.  

“Paul Atreides…is coming.” You reveal, catching the attention of Rabban and Feyd-Rautha. “He makes his way from the south.”

“Paul Atreides is dead.” Rabban corrects you. 

“He didn’t die in the attack-“

“I know that, woman!” He abruptly shouts, banging the table. “I saw to it myself, him and his mother died in the-“

“Sandstorm.” You finish, much quieter than he began. “But he didn’t.”

Your husband has turned his body toward you, now intently listening.

“They live - And they challenge my father now.” You look up at the two of them, “Him. He must be this Maud’Dib, this Lisan-Al-Gaib. Who else would it be?”

“Wait,” Feyd speaks up, “Challenge your father for what, exactly?”

You meet his gaze before reopening the letter, searching for the Irulan’s line on the challenge:

Paul Atreides will arrive unannounced when we land in Arrakis in a challenge for the throne.

Rabban shakes his head. “There’s no longer a need for the Emperor on Arrakis.” He misses the point, “We’ve got the spice production under control. The old bastard can stay home.”

Feyd-Rautha leans his elbows in his knees, looking up at you with that same evil look he gets whenever a dangerous plan arises.

“Atreides’,” He thinks aloud, “They’re little rats. Insects that keep popping up no matter how many times you exterminate.”

“Should I alert the Baron?” Rabban asks, speaking quicker than his acute brain can think. 

“You will do no such thing.” Feyd demands, conjuring up his plan in his much more suitable brain. “Since the Emperor is deciding to pay us a visit despite the work l've done here…Maybe the Atreides' will do the bloody work for us. Keep us in the good graces of the Great Houses."

Bloody work, he says. The exposure and diminishing of your father’s name he means. 

“Brother.” Rabban counters, “The Atreides’ - The Fremen - They’ll have us outnumbered. Uncle should be aware-“

“You will do no such thing.” His brother orders, now loosely pointing his blade toward Rabban. “The throne is mine therefore the throne is yours. The Baron won’t make Harkonnen the greatest house, brother. I will” He leers.

“Husband,” You voice reason, seeing all of the ways you could lose your promised spot to this scheme. “If it comes to a fight and Paul beats you-“

“He won’t beat me.”

“But if this challenge doesn’t go our way,” You hypothesize, “We could lose everything. Paul Atreides won’t let my father live, not after what he’s done. My family will hold no power, my sister will be-“

"I will remain unharmed, will I not? As will my brother.” He redirects. “Are we not your biggest concern anymore? Are we not your family, Harauna?" 

…

The ship gets hotter and hotter as you near Arrakeen. Feyd-Rautha meddles with his torso buttons on the opposite side of the room as you stare at the screen in your bedroom, broadcasting the sandy terrain of the new planet.

“What would your plans be as Emperor, Feyd-Rautha?” You query, eyes locked on the family owned land.

He sighs as he always does when you open your mouth, as if nothing his wife says is worthwhile. 

“Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He repeats.

“Just answer me…Please.” You urge, the question having appeared in your mind minutes ago and hasn’t stopped nagging since. 

“What do you think my plans are, princess?” He turns toward you, his dark and threatening eyes seeming to dim the entire room. “I’m going to make the entire Imperium Harkonnen. Our family will be the most powerful spice harvesters anyone’s ever seen.” He begins, “I’ll give my Empress a child, grow our empire, and teach my princeling how to rule.”

You listen intently, trying your hardest to envision your life going from Princess of Kaitan, to wife of the heir, to Empress of the Imperium beside Feyd-Rautha, of all men.

Be the worst position in the highest room.

Your husband goes on. “Caladan will be a thing of the past. Atreides will be a thing of the past. Harkonnen will be the great house and any others will just be…Maud’Dib.” He chuckles.

“‘Your Empress’...” You point out, never having heard your name. You only wish to hear where you and your family stand in his master plan. “Would it be me?”

He gives you his undivided attention, letting go of his leather vest. “Why must you talk so much about things that don’t matter?” He asks, true indifference and apathy in his tone.

For some never make it to the room.

“…Is it me or no one?” You speak up, your voice frantically running before your mind can catch up. “Is it me or death, Feyd-Rautha?”

Your attitude shifts in the middle of your sentence as you realize where you’ve heard these exact words before.

“You or no one, Irulan.” Your father would say, stroking your sister’s hair while the rest of you sat and waited for nothing. 

Never in your life did you plan to sit in a Harkonnen’s bedroom and beg for his approval. For his confirmation that you were his. 

But here you are, begging the worst of men to love you the way The Emperor never did. The way he never will. 

“In two moons I will be Emperor.” Feyd-Rautha strides toward you, holding your hands in his as he bores. “Harauna Harkonnen will be next to me.”

A smile grows wide on your face; An odd, yet full, feeling of acceptance spiraling throughout you.

His eyes suddenly seem to get even darker as his grip on your hands morphs into a crushing clutch. “For as long as she knows her place, she will remain.”

Ice replaces the once warm feeling in your veins. Your smile fades as his grows, watching the fear in you rise with each squeeze of your fingers. Tears form in your eyes as the reality of your situation sets in once more as it has over and over since you step foot on Giedi Prime.

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you.

10191 // month 4 // 📍arrakeen

two days later

You all stand completely still, your heartbeat seeming to be louder than the atomics outside of the Emperor’s structure. Inside the ring of Sardukaur lies your family; Irulan hiding behind your father as Maud’Dib, in front of your eyes, holds a blade over the Baron.

You and Feyd-Rautha stand alone across the walkway, your husband seemingly hypnotized by Paul Atreides as he plunges it into his uncles neck. Your hand resting on Feyd’s lower back vibrates as his breathing heavies, being just as amazed by Paul as you are. 

The both of your mouths hang open, and for once, you and your husband seem to be on the same page. Paul begins barking orders at your father as you bring your lips to Feyd’s ear, speaking in a hushed whisper to not interfere with the daring Paul Maud’Dib.

“In the event of your death…” You begin. He slightly cocks his head toward you, listening. “Would you have me marry him?”

Paul gives one last daring look at the sea of people standing against him, though, he seems as fearless as your husband as his expression never wavers from stone. 

“Is he worthy?”

Feyd-Rautha doesn’t so much as flinch at your comment, new, for a man like him. You can’t help but believe it’s because you’re right. The na-Baron recognizes that the viciousness that is Paul Atreides, no matter how unexpected, is a perfect match for him. A perfect match for his wife. 

Is he wrong to admit that if not him, Paul may be the closest thing to fit to be Emperor of the universe?

…

You’ve never laid eyes on a fight so glorious. The two most powerful and ferocious men on Arrakis clinking their blades again and again in a battle for the throne. 

The room falls silent as your husband lodges his sword into Paul, holding him close as one of the two release an animalistic roar. His mother stands, his Fremen’s mouths hang agape, your husband just hardly smiles at you over his shoulder. 

You can’t help but feel a sense of dread boiling in your stomach. Yes - You want Feyd-Rautha to reign supreme. Yes, you want to be Empress. But as you watch the devilish sneer on his face fill out as Paul’s blood stains his pasty hand, your heart seems to be pulling you in another direction. You’ve always been quite talented at telling good from bad; But Maud’Dib, you can’t seem to figure out. He lays in the gray area in between the two, you determine. 

Your reflection is quickly halted as the squelching sound of an edge piercing skin fills the room. You sway to the side, eyes wide as you see Paul’s hand gripping the handle, the rest buried into your husband’s heart. 

A gasp escapes many in the room, you included as a hand flies to your mouth. You and your father very well may be the only people in the room who are rooting for Feyd-Rautha. Knowing this, the smiles that sprinkle themselves on attendants throughout the room quickly after the inhale isn’t unanticipated. 

“You…” His raspy voice is almost too quiet for you to catch as he fights for each breath. “You fought well…Atreides.”

He slowly turns his head just far enough to have you in his sight. Even in death, Feyd-Rautha remains as menacing as the day you first met him. 

He has no words for you. He only bares that stupid, prideful, blackened smile that got him stabbed in the first place. 

You seem in a trance as you watch his body thud to the floor, looking as lifeless as the women on his bedroom floor back home. 

“Lisan-Al-Gaib!” A Fremen leader calls, breaking the silence as his people repeat after him.

Paul Atreides, Feyd-Rautha’s murderer, rises. He limps toward you and your family, prompting your sister to swiftly grab your free hand as the other slowly lowers from your lips. 

You had no love for Feyd-Rautha, nothing real. For him you experienced nothing that you should feel for a husband. Nevertheless, the tears flow all the same. 

"The life debt has been paid.” Irulan blurts, squeezing your hand as Paul nears you. “Spare my father and I will be your willing bride. The throne will be yours."

Her words snap you out of your haze, throwing you into the face of reality as it strikes you in the heart. 

"I'll take the hand of your daughter. She will remain safe and we will rule together over the empire." Paul declared.

In the span of seconds you imagine the moment a trillion different ways. If only he had nodded toward you, not Irulan.

‘Where is integrity?’ You wonder. 

Where is honor in sacrifice when you've given all you know to give and you still don't win. You can never seem to come out on top. You can never seem to be first…But your sister can, as she always does.

You snatch your hand away from your Irulan’s; Your eyes glued to your father, now kneeling, as rage grows within you. The rage of all of the rejection you've faced, the rage of all you have given to get to where you are, the rage of now wishing Feyd-Rautha had stuck Paul Atreides' head on a spike for all of Arrakis to see.

The rage of a Harkonnen.