#feyd x fremen!reader

[lady-phasma]

To Serve

Feyd Rautha x Fremen!reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, rough foreplay, biting, no penetration, masochism, strange power dynamics, completely ridiculous premise that Feyd would even notice a Fremen servant, I don’t know - it’s fanfiction so let’s suspend disbelief together

Summary: You are a Fremen working in the Arrakeen palace after House Harkonnen has retaken Arrakis, watching and studying the Planetary Governor. 2k words (no beta because I was in a hurry to get this out of my head)

You were actually grateful to be allowed to continue to serve in the Arrakeen palace. When House Atreides had been slaughtered, so had most of the servants. The Harkonnen kept some of the Fremen to do menial labor. You spent your days much as you had when Duke Leto and his family resided here. You cleaned floors, helped in the kitchens from time to time, and occasionally cleaned the personal chambers of the Planetary Governor.

As the Harkonnens struggled to retaliate against the guerrilla Fremen and Muad’Dib you kept your head down, listening, never drawing attention to yourself. You had received instructions from your home sietch to observe and not act. However, you had promised yourself you would take advantage of the right opportunity.

Weeks passed with the na-Baron at the helm of the sadistic assaults on sietchs and Fremen outposts. Your anger grew, but so did your caution. At night you lay awake replaying the routines of the Harkonnen, as well as his peculiar desires. You only saw these from a distance but you listened to chatter among the palace staff, appalled at times, curious at others.

You were assigned to replace the person who regularly cleaned the na-Baron’s chambers, perhaps for an extended time. You were only allowed in when the room was empty. The Harpies spent much of their day in repose, eating, sleeping, always waiting on Feyd Rautha. There were occasions when he demanded their company elsewhere and you were then permitted entrance. The only task that was particularly unpleasant and unusual compared to the rest of the palace was cleaning their “nest.” The pile of pillows and fabric were never filthy but often stained and you did not envy the poor souls who had to launder them.

At least twice in the first week, the na-Baron himself had been leaving the room as you were lead down the hall by a guard. You had not seen him up close before, not this close. His pale skin looked as cold as the palace walls, but his eyes were bright and constantly assessing everything and everyone around him. He looked at you the first time you passed, deemed you unimportant, and looked away. The second time you crossed paths he didn’t look at you at all.

You had no plan, you were no assassin. You simply wanted to hurt him. Nothing you could do would stop the war or persuade the Harkonnens to call a truce. You weren’t ignorant. You just wanted him to feel some of what you felt. If he could feel similar emotions. You weren’t sure about that, but every living creature could feel pain.

You were always on guard in the palace unless you were in your bed. When you performed your duties you heard every footstep, every door opening or closing within your vicinity. These footsteps were so quiet that you hadn’t known anyone had walked in until you heard him speak. Your mouth went dry and your mind raced.

“Out,” Feyd commanded. You looked over your shoulder at him, turned, bowed your head slightly, then an impulse came over you.

“Lord na-Baron,” you spoke evenly, but quietly. “I was waiting for you. I was instructed to tend to you personally.”

He looked perplexed but still annoyed. He appraised you, looking into your blue eyes as you raised your head. He let out a derisive snort of laughter.

“What use could I have for a Fremen?”

“Well,” you swallowed, feigning embarrassment. “I was told, my Lord, you had certain appetites and I was required to be at your service. That you were…” You flashed your blue eyes at him. “Curious.”

Feyd licked his lips. You had no idea from his expression if he believed your lie. The way he raked his gaze over you, from head to foot, implied that it didn’t matter.

“Curious,” he mused, almost to himself. “Quite.”

You tried not to flinch as he stepped closer. You faced him, appearing less nervous than you actually were. He was a man rumored to have many odd desires from what you had learned. Perhaps your impulse was correct, perhaps he had never had a Fremen before. Hopefully you had used that to your advantage and not to his.

When he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand you nearly pulled away. His hand was surprisingly warm and the touch seemed deceptively gentle. You stared brazenly into his eyes, trying to decide your next move. You decided to try something you thought few people ever dared.

You grabbed Feyd’s wrist and held it away from your face. The look of surprise and dismay that appeared on his face was incredibly satisfying. You let yourself smile just a little at this, then quickly set your mouth into an impassive line as you let go of his wrist. You thought he brought his hand back to slap you but he merely dropped it to his side. His brows were furrowed and he looked as confused as he was impressed.

Feyd stepped forward so quickly that you could barely see him do it. His hand grasped your neck and held you still as he drew his face close to yours. He looked down at you, contemplating, eyes darting back and forth between yours. He leaned in as if to kiss you.

“Do you think I can’t break you?” He hissed. You narrowed your eyes, not hiding your defiance.

“I think you will want to try,” you whispered. “I think you will fail.” His hand loosened for an instant and you used his moment of shock to force your mouth on his. It was a rough crashing together of mouths but Feyd did not falter or pull back. He met your mouth, your ferocity, with his own. His hand was no longer on your neck but gripping your shoulder. You pushed your hands againsthis chest but found that, instead of pushing him away, you gripped the fabric of his shirt in your fists. A flickering heat pulsed in your belly and your chest was tight. This was not in your plans.

He pulled his head back and grinned. His black teeth were fearsome this close. Yet they didn’t frighten you exactly. You reached up and held his chin as you kissed him again, licking his teeth, finding his tongue. You wanted to hurt him but something had begun to mingle with that feeling, a different kind of want. He growled into your mouth and grabbed your hair at the back of your head. You let your hand fall from his face as he pulled your head back. He licked your throat, your jaw, scraping his teeth against your skin as he went.

In a nearly painful movement, Feyd turned you both to move toward the bed. What had begun as an impulse was now becoming a reality. You warred with yourself as he walked you backward, releasing your hair and sucking hungrily at your lips. You needed to make a decision and quickly. You slid your hands to the back of his head and caught his bottom lip in your teeth. If you were going to do this it would be on your terms. You didn’t bite him hard enough to draw blood. It was hard enough to make him push you against the bed. When you let him go he was grinning.

“If all Fremen are like this, I have missed many opportunities,” he sneered. The instinct to slap him was overridden by the feeling of his erection pressing into your lower belly. You slowly moved one hand from his neck, down his torso, and stroked him through the fabric of his pants. His sneer faded as his eyes almost closed.

Feyd didn’t push you onto the bed as you thought he might, but guided you by the shoulders and slid his thigh between your legs in one graceful movement. He raked his hands under your shirt and jerked it off you. He licked your stomach, your ribs, and as he moved upward he tried to pin your hands above your head. Before he could, you leveraged your position under him, you were no match for his strength, and used his imblanace to roll him onto his back. You threw one leg across him and straddled him.

There was a horribly wonderful glint in his eyes as he grinned up at you. His breathing was shallow and quick. You glanced at his chest rising and falling. You slid your hands under his shirt, his abdomen firm under your fingers. You shifted your hips against his. He must have felt the same ache you did because he groaned. You leaned forward to pull Feyd’s shirt over his head and heat radiated from your core. Even your own breathing had become shallow.

As you looked at him, laying beneath you, there was something magnificent about him. Yes, he was horrid, still your enemy, but he was beautiful in a way which was unlike anything on your desert planet. You leaned forward and placed your mouth on his chest, listening to his response. You felt his hands move to your thighs. You slid your hands up his bare shoulders and you bit his chest, hard.

Feyd’s hips jerked up into yours. His fingers dug into your thighs through your pants and he growled. You expected him to push you off, command you to stop but he didn’t. You moaned against him as his hips ground into yours. When you let go and sat up you saw his eyes were closed. His face looked almost peaceful. Even so, you had gotten a peculiar satisfaction out of that. You had wanted to hurt him but this… this was very unusual for you. Not only did he seem to enjoy it but you did as well.

He opened his eyes slightly and stared at you. You stroked his stomach. You glanced down at the red bite mark on his chest and you actually smiled. When you looked back at him he lifted his hips gently and you shuddered. You curled your fingers against his flesh, fingernails scratching him. His cock was hard against your core, through both of your pants. You shifted your weight forward slightly, a small rocking motion, and his eyes closed. His fingers still clung to your thighs.

You slowly leaned forward and lowered your mouth to his. You licked his lips, his chin, down his jaw and neck. You made your way to his chest and teased him with your teeth. His hips had begun a steady rhythm under you. As you bit down this time you didn’t hold back. You thought of the wrongs done to your planet, his cock against you, his malice, and his sculpted muscles. All of the images swirled together as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the sensation of him rocking beneath you.

You increased the pressure of your bite slightly and his hands flew to your ass, pulling you against him to get you as close as possible. He rutted and groaned. You released your bite and you felt the pleasure of it wrack his body. He tensed, cursed, and arched his back against you. His cum soaked his pants, then yours. You ground against him as he came down from his high. The overstimulation caused a nearly pained look to cross his face. He opened his eyes and scowled.

Your core throbbed and ached. You wanted a release but were satisfied with what you had been able to do to him. A smug grin grew on your lips. You had gotten far more than you had planned.

Without warning, taking advantage of the moment in which you had let down your guard, Feyd lifted you off him. Within a second he was on top of you, knee back between your thighs. Only this time you couldn’t help rubbing against him, desperate.

“Let’s see if I can’t break you after all,” Feyd growled as he pinned your hands above your head.

[sansaorgana]

— STILL PURE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Feyd yells at his daughter for interrupting him at work. His wife confronts him about his behaviour as she tries to explain to the little Countess that her father was never taught how to express love.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Feyd is already the Baron in this fic but I assumed women cannot inherit on Giedi Prime so the daughter is "only" a Countess while her younger brother is a Na-Baron. I used my headcanon that if half-Harkonnen children have hair, then they're white because they lack pigment. I also wanted her to have big black Harkonnen eyes so badly... Basically, I wanted Feyd's daughter to look like this:

WORD COUNT — 2,990

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

STILL PURE

Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was circling around the big table in the conference room where the huge orb of Giedi Prime had been replaced with Arrakis’ one as one of his advisors was explaining the difficult situation regarding the spice production. The new wave of Fremen rebels who worshipped the long gone and deceased Muad’Dib decided to continue their idol’s legacy as they sabotaged the spice production controlled by The Harkonnen forces. The Governor of Arrakis was slowly losing control over the situation and Feyd would rather avoid going there himself. He was needed on Giedi Prime – especially now when The Emperor was on his deathbed. He had to be around in case something important would happen and everyone knew The Baron had his eyes set on the Imperial Throne. Feyd had to choose a new Governor of Arrakis or provide the current one with good advice, hoping for the Fremen problem to disappear soon. It was worrying him because it was giving him a bad reputation at the moment for having problems on Arrakis – it could make some leaders of the great houses to think he was not worthy enough to become the next Emperor.

Feyd’s hands were clasped behind his back as he circled like a shark and all his advisors looked down, taking a step back whenever he approached them. They knew his temper would only rise when he was angered whenever he would experience problems of such nature when it came to reigning over The Harkonnen properties.

“What does the Fremen leader say? Stilgar? That was his name?” Feyd barked at one of the scared advisors.

“Stilgar says he has no control over the cultists. He does not support their actions. He wants nothing but peace, my Lord,” the man bowed his head.

“How bad is it? The most important thing so far is to keep the problem on Arrakis a secret,” Feyd hummed to himself.

“Five percent of the decrease in the spice production income,” the other advisor answered. “Not bad, but can be noticeable in the amount we export.”

“We shall export some of our own private reserves to cover the loss. In the meantime, we have to deal with the cultists,” Feyd decided, already annoyed at the fact he had to sacrifice his own supplies just to cover up the careless governing of Arrakis which was not his fault. “Send more troops there, the operation should be classified confidential. Threaten Lord Volonov to take care of it. He’s got a month before I replace him with someone more capable…”

Quiet pat pat pat sound coming from the corridor was becoming louder and louder until the black doors finally opened slightly and the guard standing by them spotted a pair of two big black eyes staring up at him. 

“My Lord,” he tried to catch The Baron’s attention but Feyd had his back turned on him as he angrily explained the details of the operation to his advisors.

Little Countess Sevina Harkonnen gave the guard puppy eyes as she struggled with the heavy doors. She wanted to come inside and he didn’t know what to do. He was aware that his Lord Baron did not want to be interrupted but he didn’t want to close the door in the girl’s face either. He peeked outside but there was no servant around and The Baroness was not there either. He decided it would be better for the girl to come inside instead of letting her roam around the fortress alone.

She smiled widely at him and jumped inside the room happily as her white hair bounced. She was lucky enough to inherit most of her mother’s looks although her skin was paler, her hair lacked pigment and her pupils were nothing but two completely big black orbs – those were the eyes even her father did not have but they were a result of the pollution her mother’s body had been exposed to on Giedi Prime at the time of her pregnancy.

Not realising how tense the atmosphere in the room was, she approached her father as all the advisors and servants were making wide eyes at her. She stood behind The Baron and pulled on his shirt to make him turn around.

At first, he flinched at the odd feeling of someone pulling him. Who would dare to do that? He turned around quickly with an angry expression on his face but then he looked down and spotted his little daughter. She startled a bit at the sight of his annoyance but she kept staring at him with her big black eyes filled with love and excitement.

“What are you doing here?” Feyd barked at her.

“Can you play with me, daddy?” She pleaded with a big grin.

A few lords smirked at that and Feyd’s jaw clenched. Not only had she interrupted him but also humiliated him.

“Can’t you fucking see that I’m busy?!” He lashed out at her and she took a step back as her eyes filled with tears and betrayal. “Get out of here!” He pointed at the doors.

They opened at that very moment as the nanny entered the room and looked around, surprised at the sight of scared faces and the little Countess being in the centre of attention.

“There you are!” She opened her arms at the sight of the girl. “I’ve told you not to interrupt your father, he’s in the middle of a meeting,” she reminded nervously as the girl ran up to her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the nanny bowed her head at Feyd-Rautha.

“You’re useless,” he drawled. “Get out.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman held Sevina’s hand and walked out as quickly as possible.

You left the nursery where your son na-baron had just fallen asleep. On your way back to your chambers, you passed by the doors leading to your daughter’s room and you froze at the muffled sound of sobbing. Concerned, you decided to enter without knocking.

Little Sevina was crying on her bed as the scared nanny tried to calm her down by rubbing her back and shushing her.

“What is going on?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.

“M-my Lady Baroness,” the nanny stood up and straightened herself to bow down slightly.

“What happened? Why is she crying?” You asked her in an accusing tone.

“I… I lost her out of my sight when we were playing earlier today, I’m sorry… I found the young Countess in her father’s conference room. She had interrupted The Baron during a council… I think he lashed out at her, my Lady…” the woman tried to explain nervously as her hands shook.

“You’re useless,” you sighed and she widened her eyes. “Get out, I’ll deal with that myself,” you pointed at the doors and she bowed down once again before leaving quickly.

You approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Sevina raised her head to look at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of her cheeks covered in tears.

“What happened, sweet darling?” You asked her gently while you caressed her back.

“Why doesn’t daddy love me?” She asked with so much pain and sincerity in her tiny, shaky voice that you nearly cried yourself.

You knew it wasn’t true. Feyd-Rautha loved his daughter. Even though he had been a bit disappointed she was not a son in the beginning – he had only said not to worry about it much; that the boy would come next. He had been treating Sevina as if she was made of glass in the first months of her life, so scared of accidentally hurting her because hurt was all he knew.

“Oh, Sevina, don’t think that…” You sighed and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you so much,” you assured her but of course she wasn’t convinced. “He would kill and die for you, little girl,” you added.

“I don’t want him to kill and die for me, mummy,” Sevina sobbed as those were the concepts she was too young to grasp. “I just want daddy to play with me.”

“He doesn’t know how to play, Sevina,” you fixed her ruffled hair while trying to explain calmly. “He didn’t have a mummy or daddy when he was your age. The way I kiss you or hug you and play with you… He has never had it, darling,” you felt a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You were angry at your husband for yelling at your daughter and making her feel unloved but you were also angry at all the suffering that he had gone through in his past.

There were scars and damages that could never be undone, no matter how much you loved someone.

“And you’re big enough to know that daddy shouldn’t be interrupted when he’s working. You know that he tends to get angry more easily then,” you reminded her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wanted daddy to play with me,” she snuggled closer to you and you kissed the top of her head, rubbing her tiny arms with your thumbs and cradling her softly to calm her down.

Feyd had been back in your chambers already when you entered. You froze at the sight of him, irritated. However, he seemed to act as usual.

“Five percent,” he snapped at you, although not angrily. “We will have to replace the loss with our own supply so the other lords don’t realise we are expecting problems on Arrakis. That stupid son of a bitch Volonov can’t handle a few cultists and…”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you interrupted him and turned your back on him to approach your vanity table and sit by it, pretending to be more interested in reapplying the powder.

“What?” Feyd was visibly surprised as he watched you in disbelief. You had always been a support for him, especially in difficult times. You both had been plotting on how to take over the Imperial Throne and now you weren’t interested in something as important as the problems with harvesting spice on Arrakis? It didn’t make sense to him.

You ignored him and focused on brushing your hair now, watching him from the corner of your eye in the reflection of the mirror of your vanity table. He approached you, hesitantly.

“What do you mean you’re not interested?” He tilted his head as he leaned in, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t even flinch.

“I’ve just spent an hour calming down Sevina. You yelled at her,” you eventually looked up to look deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, irritated.

“She should have learnt by now not to interrupt me,” Feyd straightened his back and walked away. “She’s spoiled,” he added. “Knows nothing about discipline. It’s your fault.”

“She’s a little girl,” you turned around. “You can’t expect military habits from her. She’s your daughter, Feyd.”

“She’s lucky I only yelled. If I interrupted my uncle as a child like that, I’d be punished!” He raised his voice at you, frustrated that you were defending your daughter and making a problem out of something that he considered to be normal.

You hated it when he would raise his voice at you. You stood up angrily and yelled as well.

“Oh, so you think she should be raised the same way you were?!” You asked. “Alright then! Go to her room, grab her by the neck and flog her back with a whip just because she wanted to play with her father!” You pointed at the doors furiously as your eyes were burning with wrath. “Go on! I dare you.”

But Feyd didn’t even move. His jaw was clenched as he was staring at you speechlessly.

“Go. What are you waiting for?” You kept pushing him. “Go on.”

You kept looking into his eyes with so much intensity he eventually gave up and looked down, awkwardly as the guilt started to creep in. You won.

“You rejected her. She thinks you don’t love her,” your voice calmed down but it was still vicious. “And I was assuring her that you do but it felt as if I was assuring myself, too,” you added, just to hurt him. “I can’t stand to look at you, Feyd-Rautha,” you drawled and approached the doors to leave him alone but not without striking the final blow. “I can’t believe I wanted to give you children so badly,” you turned your head to look at him as he looked up, surprised at your words, “because you don’t deserve them.”

The doors opened in front of you and you walked out to go back to your daughter.

You were sitting on the black fluffy carpet in the middle of Sevina’s room. She was on your lap, with her tiny arms around your neck, cuddling you. There were toys scattered all around the floor but she wanted to take a break for the loving cuddles. She was very unusual for a half-Harkonnen and you were very aware of the fact she was making most people around feel uncomfortable.

Not only her father but everyone in the fortress were stiff around sweet little Sevina who was so full of life and curiosity, always wanting to hug everyone – even servants and guards. Wherever she went, there was a sound of laughter and a sudden feeling of warmth. Countess Sevina Harkonnen was the very first little girl living in that fortress in a long time and she was so different from all its inhabitants. She was too young to know that she was a daughter of Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen – a man feared all over the Empire. That her bloodline was cursed with death and violence. She was still pure and innocent. Perhaps she was a living proof that The Harkonnens were not born this way after all – but they were made in the endless cycle of abusive upbringing. You did not want the same fate for her. You knew she would have to get rougher with time but you hoped she would still remain gentle, too.

The doors to her room opened and you looked up. At the sight of your husband, you protectively put your arm around your little girl. You doubted that he wanted to do what you had angrily suggested before but you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t anyway. Sevina stiffened at the sight of her father and clung to you. It brought you pain to realise that at that very moment she was afraid of him.

“Sevina, we have to talk,” Feyd stood above you two as he started in a serious tone. You gave him a scolding look and your little girl hid her face in the crook of your neck, hiding. “You know perfectly well not to interrupt me while I’m working.”

Long silence occurred. You could see Feyd’s struggle as he had no idea what to do to fix this situation between him and his daughter.

“Sevina, apologise to daddy,” you looked down and she looked up with tears in her big black eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrupted him and you know that, darling,” your voice was soft and calm and she sniffed.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Sevina turned her body around to face him but she refused to look at him.

“Now, you apologise to Sevina for being mean,” you looked up at your husband and you spotted panic in his eyes. “Now,” you insisted sternly.

“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” Feyd crouched down to be on her level. She hesitantly looked at him. “Can I get a hug, too?” He asked and his voice broke a tiny bit. 

Slitting someone’s throat open was less awkward and unusual to him than to ask for a hug. Your heart ached for him but you were an adult capable of understanding his patterns. Sevina was not. 

Her heart was big, though, and she loved her father, so she would forgive him everything. She nodded her head with a happy smile and ran into his arms to squeeze him tight. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight.

“I love you, darling,” Feyd whispered quietly with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. “I would kill for you. I would die for you,” he confessed.

“But she doesn’t want any of that,” you explained. “She just wants you to spend time with her.”

“Is that right?” He looked down at his little girl and she looked up with her puppy eyes as she nodded. Her tiny hands reached out to cup his face.

“I love you, daddy,” she assured him. “Can you play with me?”

“I don’t know how to play, I’m sorry,” he admitted with guilt in his voice.

“I will teach you,” she hugged him again.

Feyd put his arms around his little girl and pulled her closer. You crawled on the carpet to give him a hug, too. You could feel that he was slightly trembling, so you leaned in to place a kiss on his temple as your hand caressed his head soothingly.

“It’s not weak to show affection,” you reminded him in a whisper. “I’ve never loved you more than when you are like this.”

Feyd laid his eyes on you. They were filled with a mix of pain, guilt and relief. At the end of the day, the only approval he was seeking was yours. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“So, how do you want to play?” He asked Sevina as he caressed her white hair with admiration. She clapped her hands cheerfully.

“I want to be a Princess,” her eyes sparkled. “And you’ll be my guard.”

Feyd chuckled at that, showing off his black teeth. Sevina giggled as she had never found them scary.

“Soon enough, my darling one, you’ll be a real Princess,” he assured her.

MASTERLIST

[kihyunsflavor]

Cross my heart part 1

next chapter ↪︎

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: When Paul Atreides is killed by Feyd-Rautha, the only hope for the Bene Gesserit plan lies with Feyd. As the eldest daughter of the emperor, your father promises you to the na-Baron to forge an alliance between your two houses. However, this turn of events is not to your liking, and you harbor little fondness for him.

Warnings: arranged marriage, sexual tension (smut in next chapter), mentions of violence and blood, pet names, size kink, enemies to lovers trope (?)

Authors note: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Also let's imagine Margot Fenring did not visit Feyd on his birthday. 

Horror plays on her face when her lover falls to the ground. Blade buried deep in his chest, where his heart was beating only seconds ago. There is no scream from her, she is quiet as the tears fall. Soon the room is filled with loud gasps and cries. You watch her break down on her knees. Now her lover was dead and the Fremen had lost. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of your father's face. There's a subtle hint of relief, a fleeting expression that only you can discern. Meanwhile, Feyd-Rautha turns around, a broad grin stretching across his lips. "Is this your Lissan al-Gaib? The Mahdi?" he mocks the Fremen gathered in the hall.

But in that moment, the Emperor and the na-Baron were invisible to them. All attention was focused on the fallen messiah as they swarm around the body. It doesn't take long for the left over armies to come and escort you to safety. Feyd trailed closely behind, a constant amusement playing on his features.

Your father's fury is evident; his clenched fist betrays his agitation. Yet this time, you won and destroyed the upcoming force from Arrakis. You tried to match his steps, but he was eager to leave this planet. You look back once, only to see her again. You didn't. She was hidden by the crowd. Instead, your eyes meet Feyd's. He had been walking closely behind you. "Don't worry, princess." Is all he says. You turn your face away, but he falls into step right by your side.

There is a ship, that will escort you back home. Feyd stayed alongside you and your father until your departure. "For now, I will return to Kaitain. But we will come back and slaughter them all." The emperor declared. Feyd Rautha nodded solemnly. He had dropped to one knee in front of your father. "You will stay here to oversee the spice harvest." There was a long silence. You noticed how your father exchanged meaningful glances with the revered mother Gaius Helen Mohiam. The silent communication left you puzzled, unaware of its significance.

Suddenly, your father rose from his chair. "And I will give you my eldest daughter." 

A cold shudder went down your spine as you heard his words. You stared at his side profile, hoping this was a misunderstanding, but the revered mother came into your sight. You understood why it had been done, you remembered the words from her. Feyd was yet another prospect for the Bene Gesserit. When your eyes fell on the Harkonnen, he smirked up at you. 

"I will not leave with you, will I?" You asked, as the na-Baron had left the room. "You will. He won't claim you until he has proven himself." Your father affirmed. He referrered to the need for the spice harvest to resume successfully.

"He will come to Kaitian when the time is right." 

When you arrived on your homeplanet, the emperor dissappeared immediately. He was busy tending to the Fremen rebellion. The news of Paul Atreides getting killed by Feyd Rautha spread rapidly. The other houses remained firmly aligned with the emperor, since Paul had attempted to disrupt the spice harvest. Now there was no hope, no Lissan al-Gaib, for the Fremen. No one, who would bring them to Paradise as the prophecy had been told. However, Paul had not been the awaited Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit had anticipated. Few knew, but the hope now rested upon your future husband.

Over the past few months, reports were sent to your father. They arrived from Arrakis, each carrying Feyd's signature. He described the spice harvest as successfull and on the best way to reach big numbers again.

As your father reviewed the latest missive, his expression grew pensive. "He seems to exceed the expectations. The baron sent a report himself." The emperor said, while leaning over his table. You nodded approvingly, your heart racing at the mention of Feyd's name. "Will he come soon?" Your father frowned at your question, fully lost in his thoughts.

"My daughter, I think I need to send you away." Your eyes widened, but his remained fixed on the scroll. "You will go to Giedi Prime. Solidify our alliance with House Harkonnen, familiarize yourself with the Baron and find out his political plans. The wedding will take place on Kaitain in due time." You listened well, while he explained. "Will Feyd-Rautha also be on Giedi Prime?" The thought of facing the Baron alone on this dark planet made you shudder. It was a nightmare. "Yes."

Before the month´s end, you yourself send a letter to the na-Baron. It was a request form your father, advised by the revered mother. Every word was carefully written by yourself with your name prominently displayed beneath the message. It was not a long letter. You informed him about your upcoming trip to Giedi Prime to meet his uncle, the Baron. And suggesting that he should join you as well. It was not a plead, but like a beckoning call to him. Of course you had to charm him first. In the future he would either listen to you willingly or you would resort to manipulation. Feyd Rautha was known for his ambitious and ruthless character, willing to do whatever it took to achieve his own goals.

Oh how it angered you to travel to this unpleasant planet - but you were hiding your feelings from everyone. It was a duty you had to fulfill. Showcasing the amicable relations between the two houses was important.

The ship was prepared at the start of the next month, laden with various garments, jewelry, shoes, and other essentials. The dresses, in particular, were meticulously crafted for this trip, symbolizing the prestige and authority of House Corrino. A few servants and a Bene Gesserit sister accompanied you.

The journey was short and soon you found yourself descending into the atmosphere of Giedi Prime. Sitting composedly in your chair, you awaited the ship's landing. A scroll was clutched in your hand, an unfamiliar excitement stirred in your stomach. You read the single line repeatedly. "As you wish, my princess." While technically you couldn't hear him say it, in your mind, it was as if he were speaking directly to you.

He was a very intelligent man, with a mind sharp like a knife, yet charming and handsome at the same time. He effortlessly commanded attention wherever he went. Despite this, you wished you could avoid marrying him. While he ignited unfamiliar passions within you, you were certain they were nothing more than fleeting fantasies. There was excitement, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to cause you harm. Maybe with time, you'd figure him out better.

As the ship landed, there was no time left to dwell on these thoughts. Stepping out onto Giedi Prime, a servant handed you your long coat, its once vibrant color now subdued by the planet's dim light. The Baron awaited your arrival, surrounded by a crowd gathered to greet you. It was to be a grand entrance, fitting for the daughter of the emperor.

With confidence, you made your way to the Baron, your eyes catching Feyd standing beside his uncle. A smirk played on his lips, betraying his excitement to see you. In that moment, you felt a sense of relief that he was here.

"Welcome to Giedi Prime, Princess. It's an honor to have the daughter of the Emperor grace our humble planet with her presence. I trust your journey was pleasant?" The Baron's words brought your attention back to the present, as he bowed before you, followed by his nephews.

"Thank you, Baron. The journey was indeed smooth," you replied politely. As the three men straightened up, Feyd stepped forward and gently kissed the back of your hand. First, you wanted to pull away, but his touch was surprisingly soft, and you allowed him to continue. After all, it was a well-mannered gesture.

"I was waiting for you, my princess," he whispered slyly, his words dripping with charm. There was a palpable tension building between the two of you, and despite yourself, you found him captivating. Your mind wandered back to the Fremen girl you came across on Arrakis, the one who had lost her beloved. In her eyes, there had been an unmistakable depth of love and dedication. You couldn't help but envy her, for she had someone to fight for, someone to live for. You were never going to experience that.

As you were led through the castle, the architecture and decor caught your attention, though not in a favorable way. Everything seemed dark and robust, with a metallic, cold feeling permeating every corner. The building reflected the characteristics of the residents of Giedi Prime, with their porcelain-white features and hairless appearance. You couldn't help but feel relieved that the wedding would take place on Kaitain, away from this grim atmosphere.

A room was shown to you by Feyd Rautha himself. It was an uncomfortable walk. Conflicting emotions churned in your stomach, leaving you uncertain of how to act. There was only one topic you both could talk about. "I heard the spice harvest is going well," you ventured, breaking the awkward silence. Feyd, who had been walking slightly ahead, slowed his pace and turned to look at you. "Yes, my princess. The Fremen haven't been attacking our spice harvesters. They have withdrawn almost entirely." You acknowledged his response with a subtle nod. "That's great."

Suddenly, Feyd stopped, causing you to pause in confusion. The servants trailing behind also halted. "Is it?" Feyd's smirked, as he turned his body to face you directly, now standing pretty close to you. "Well, why wouldn't it be?" you replied, perplexed by his demeanor. "You know what I mean by that, my little princess," he said, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. You allowed the touch, still unsure of his intentions. Seeing your confusion, he smiled, showing his black teeth. "My dear, you know what your father told me. If the spice harvest was doing well, I could make you mine." He leaned in, now towering over you. "And if I understood correctly, you're looking forward to our union?" It was as if a switch had been flipped in your mind. Your praise for his work could easily be misunderstood as eagerness to marry Feyd.

You took a step backwards to create more distance between you. Feyd let his hand drop to his side, his smile remaining in place. "I see what you mean now. Perhaps it could be interpreted that way, but it wasn't my intention. I was simply acknowledging the work that had been done on Arrakis." You said.

Feyd appeared disappointed by your response, his eyes betraying his displeasure at your lack of reciprocation. But first, he would have to work to earn your attention. While he may have proven himself to your father, it didn't mean you were now at his feet. You would make it especially challenging for him.

He escorted you to your chambers without uttering another word. "Good night, Princess." His tone was cold and desinteressed. You stood in the door frame, contemplating wether to say something, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. "My Lord." You interjected at the last moment. Feyd paused abruptly, turning to face you. "Thank you for heeding my request and returning to Giedi Prime." You offered him a little smile, before closing the door behind you.

It was all just manipulation, to wrap him around your finger and keep him under your influence. He was thrilled to marry you anyways. Though love and affection were foreign to Feyd Rautha, his sexual desire was his weakness.

next chapter ↪︎

[redskull199987]

Concubine

Paul Atreides x fem!reader Part II

Word Count:1.6k

Warnings:!SPOILERS! for Dune II, canon typical violence

Summary:"This princess will carry his name and yet, she will be less than a Concubine. She will never spend a moment of tenderness with the man she is tied to. But we who are called concubines - in the eyes of history we will be wives…"

Part I / Masterlist

She was pretty. You had to give her that. Your gaze closely followed each and every move that the Princess made. You knew that her head must have been chaotic at the moment, going through every possible scenario, how this situation could end. And you also knew that her first and last goal of this day would be to save her father’s life and secure the continuous reign of her bloodline.

But from the way she looked at you, you knew that Princess Irulan was aware of the fact that if she did marry Paul, she’d never get to share a bed with him. Would never bear his heirs or even receive an ounce of warmth from him.

She knew that even though you'd officially be Paul’s concubine, his loyalty would lie with you. And only you.

Chani’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts. It reminded you that before it ever came to that, Paul would have to beat the Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.

You took a deep breath in, as you glanced over to the Harkonnen. You had heard stories of him back on Caladan. Stories of his thirst for blood and his enjoyment of Pain. His reputation preceded him, but his appearance clearly matched it. He looked almost eerily as he stepped forward, proposing to fight for the Emperor and defined his honor.

A small frown appeared on your face, when Paul accepted the proposal. Too fast for your liking. You heard Chani sigh next to you. You looked over to the Fremen. The Woman who had become like a sister to you, who had taught you the ways of her people. You remembered it as clear as day, when she had first told you, that you’d earned her trust.

It was the day you had joined the Fedaykin among their ranks, The day you became one of them.

You were high on adrenaline. You didn’t know how else you could’ve explained it. You didn’t know how else you would’ve pulled it off. Your eyes wandered over the many Corpses of the Harkonnen Warriors, that were supposed to protect their Harvester. Almost like in slow motion, you raised your hand, your fingertips wandering over the specks of blood that littered your face. You knew it wasn’t your own blood, but the thrill that the situation itself brought you, was indescribable. 

You needed a few moments to fully return to the present. The Spice in the Air was clouding your senses, making it feel like you witnessed everything merely from the eyes of a spectator and not as one of the Fremen who ever so fiercely attacked a Spice Harvester of the Harkonnen.

The Explosion pulled you out of your Trance.

You spun around, spotting Chani and Paul. They were fighting off a few Harkonnen warriors. But you quickly realized that Paul wouldn’t be able to defeat them all alone. You’ve never felt slower than in this moment, when you started running towards him. It felt like the Sand was pulling you down, seeking to swallow you whole.

But you didn’t let it. A scream left your lips, as you dashed forward, deeply burying your Crysknife in the back of a Harkonnen Warrior that was about to attack Chani from behind. You sank to the ground together with his Corpse, as Chani spun around, her eyes widening as she realized what had happened.

Only seconds passed, as you looked up to her, Anger and Determination all, that was on your mind. Chani gave you a small nod before Paul finally reached the two of you again.

“Re-load!”, Chani yelled at him and he quickly did as told, pulling out another round of Ammo, reloading Chanis Missile Launcher. 

You glanced past the Mainstay that the three of you were hiding behind. When you spotted the Ornithopter in the air, you gulped harshly.

“The shields only lower when he’s shooting!”, You shouted towards your companions. When you locked eyes with Paul, you immediately realized that the two of you had the same Plan.“We’ll distract him!”, Paul explained to Chani who gave him a court nod as she understood.

“Wait for our sign!”, You yelled, as you got ready to sprint over to the next Mainstay to distract the Sniper.

“Ready?”, Paul asked as he got into position next to you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”, You grinned, despite the Seriousness of the Situation.

You took in one last deep breath, knowing very well that it could be your last one, before you felt Paul tap your shoulder, signaling you to start running.

Almost immediately, your instincts kicked in and it felt like you were a spectator again, watching how your feet carried you through the hot sand. You saw and heard the shots that rang in the Air as you sprinted through the Desert.

“Shit!”, You heard Paul yell next to you and you quickly realized what he meant, when you saw the Mainstay in front of you start to move further away from you.

“Run!!”, You shouted, as if it wasn’t obvious. 

You knew that from that moment and the point where you reached your destination, only seconds passed but it felt like hours as you ran through the sand. Mere moments before you reached the safety of the Mainstay, you heard Paul yell at Chani to launch the Missile.

 You were knocked over by the Force of the Explosion as the Ornithopter burst apart into the air, signaling to the Fremen that were hidden on the cliffs nearby that they could launch their attack on the Harvester, destroying it entirely. 

“Hurry!”, Paul yelled, as he pulled you to your feet and back over to Chani who was already making her way towards the nearby Dune. You had to disappear in the Desert again, before more Harkonnen would come and attack you.

That night you sat with the other Fedaykin, drank and laughed with them as Paul and you joined their ranks as respectable Warriors of the Desert. You received your Fremen name and you realized that your Heart, your soul and your entire being was with them now. You would fight for them as long as you breathed, would even go to death for them.

And Chani seemed to realize it too.

The young woman had always acted cold towards you, but when you saved her life on that day, risking your own for hers, she realized just how much of a loyal friend and fighter lay in you. From that day on, You knew that you could always count on each other.

“He will survive…He will win.”, Chani whispered into your ear and squeezed your shoulder as you watched how Paul and Feyd-Rautha got ready for their Fight. As the Gaze of the Na-Baron crossed yours, you sucked in a deep breath. What you saw in those eyes scared you.

It was a thirst for Blood and Power that you had only seen in Paul as he drank the Water of life.

You quickly looked over to Paul, giving him a firm nod, signaling him that you were on his side. His eyes told you more than words ever could. It was a silent promise. A promise to come back to you, to survive this battle and to put his plan into action.

It was a Promise that he would become the Emperor.

“I must not fear”, You mumbled to yourself, as the fight began,”Fear is the Mindkiller.” 

Your eyes followed every little move of Paul as well as Feyd-Rautha. The two men were equal fighters, both born to be the One. But only one of them would win, only one of them would come out alive.

“Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.”, You whispered, as you watched Paul get knocked over the head, Blood trickling down his temple,”I will face my fear.”

“Is she your pet?”, Feyd-Rautha mocked as he gave Paul a moment to collect himself. The Na-Baron grinned wickedly and pointed his knife at you. You paid him no mind, as your eyes only rested on Paul, silently telling him not to let himself be provoked.

“I will permit it to pass over me and through me”, you mouthed as Paul got up and the Fight commenced anew. 

Your breath hitched as Feyd-Rautha swiftly disarmed Paul, ramming the Crsyknife into his ribs. A guttural groan left Paul's lips as the two fighters stood close to each other. Wheezing breaths were the only noise to be heard in the room.

“And when it has gone past I will turn to the inner eye and see it’s Path”, You whispered desperately, the Mantra being the only thing that kept you from panicking.

All your senses were focused on the two men in front of you as you witnessed how Paul silently pulled the Crysknife out of his Body, getting ready to attack. Feyd-Rautha barely had time to react as the holy knife of Shai-Hulud pierced his armor and therefore ended his life by the hand of the new Emperor. 

“Where the Fear has gone there will be nothing”, You mouthed as Paul got to his feet again. His steps seemed to carry the weight of the Universe as he walked over to the old Emperor, demanding him to kneel in front of his new Master.

Reluctantly the old man did as told, as he accepted his defeat. Princess Irulans gaze slowly wandered to you, as her father fell to his knees.

“Only I will remain.”

[dreamlandcreations]

In your honour

Feyd-Rautha x Reader

Summary: Feyd tricks you into engagement...

Warnings: implied Atreides!Reader (bc I can't help but ship that ship most) = enemies to lovers (to be), Reader is a bit of a judgy little grump, harassment, misogyny, fight to the death, Feyd is a smitten sneaky little menace, made up Harkonnen customs, hints of angst here and there

🖤 special thank you to @stopeatread and @kasagia for the comments that kept me going 🖤

~ 1,8K words

• Feyd-Rautha masterlist • Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

The celebration for eliminating the Fremen threat was planned to last for a week. You had more than enough of it on the first day though, of the party, of the people, of the black and white planet altogether. You wanted to leave but that would be an insult to the Harkonnens, the hosts of the event, and the fragile peace between your families couldn't take a blow like that.

The Baron was gracious enough to give your family the credit that was due for this achievement, and as one of the honoured guests, you had to be present for all of these nights of celebration, form start to end.

The smalltalk bored you to death, the men were looking at you like meat, and the way the Baron treated the servants made you sick. No, scratch that, the Baron made you sick.

The only remotely good thing was surprising to say the least. The na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, who shared your feelings towards the gathered nobles and who proved to be not just an excellent company for your brooding through most of the days you've had to spend here so far but his presence also scared away the men who wanted to try to make a decent or indecent proposition to you.

When you mentioned the offers you received Feyd became irritated but his slightly teasing and a bit accusatory questioning of your too high standards covered up the real reason behind his increasing anger. He didn't want anyone else to even have a chance to have you. It was only the third day of knowing you but he knew he will not be able to let you go. His initial amusement and fascination quickly became an unstoppable obsession and you had no idea.

Not even when the conversation went as far as him trying to convince you that you should take a chance with someone sooner or later and you might have a say in the matter unlike most noble ladies. Your answer stayed with him for the next few days.

"I have no illusions, I know there's no such thing as a perfect match but I want someone who will not try to change me, who I can trust just as much as they can trust me. Someone who would care for me even if love is not an option, someone who could be gentle with me."

That did not help with his anger. He knew it was not your intention but you basically told him that he had no chance. Trust? Care? Kindness? That was everything you can't find in his family. Feyd-Rautha was very well aware he was not right for you but no matter what the tiny little voice of what's left of his conscience told him, he couldn't let you go.

The opportunity came on the second to last day of the celebrations. He had other obligations, so you were left alone to mingle. Feyd kept an eye on you but he didn't notice the Harkonnen general approach you until you made a scene.

The general fell on his knees from the force of your hit that also broke his nose. He quickly recovered though, standing up in a quick motion, stepping into your personal space once again as he threatened you.

"You will pay for that," he said as he tried to grab you again but you stepped back, kicking him in the knee, making him stumble again.

"Try to put your hands on me again and I will end you," you practically growled your response but it only elicited a mocking laugh from the entitled man.

"If you want a fight, little witch, name your champion," he taunted as he straightened once again.

"I can fight my own battles." You declared with your head held high, not letting this excuse of a man making you feel small under his towering height.

The fool tutted at you like you were an ignorant child. "Not here, you can't."

Before you could respond a now familiar, oddly rough and soft voice declared, "I will fight for her."

The gasps across the room were followed by eerie silence. The natives of this planet knew what that meant, the na-Baron was not from your family or in your servitude, therefore, according to thier law his offer changed the challenge and now the price was much higher than the question of your honour.

He descended down the stairs from where he was talking with his uncle and some other nobles not a minute ago. It was a slow, predatory display of movement that made you shiver.

Feyd stopped in front of you but didn't take his eyes off the general until the man confirmed the acceptance of the challenge with a nod. The foul man had the audacity to grin at you with a dark intention of what he will do if he wins.

You look away from that as the na-Baron finally turns to you. His expression is unreadable as he studies you in silence.

"Why?" you finally ask.

His lips pull to a smile but he stops it as he leans in to be level with your downcast eyes. "Why not?"

You clench your fists, insisting,"I am perfectly capable of fighting."

"As he said, that's not how things work here." He bent down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear, making you shiver for an entirely different reason as he whispered, "Maybe you can give me a private demonstration later?"

You huffed, pushing at him by a hand on his chest. He let you but he caught your hand and kept it there, right above his heart as he looked down at you with an unsettling smile glinting in his eyes.

"Show me your blade," he orders, finally letting go of your hand but holding your gaze captive with his.

You take in a shuddering breath as you reply, "I don't know what you're talking about. We were searched for weapons..."

He cuts you off with an amused and accusing look, his brows, or rather where they would be raise in a mocking but expectant move as his drags his gaze slowly over your face and neck, right to the place where your breasts are straining against your dress' corset with each heavy breath.

Your lips part in surprise and that makes him look up, mesmerised for a second before he delivers a more impatient form of that taunting look. Clenching your jaw, you look away for a second, a half shake of your head at this situation is all you can afford. Then you reach into the front of your dress, pulling out the hidden blade and hand it to him.

Fey studies the intricate design of the sheath of the weapon before pulling the blade out, testing the edge against his fingertips. His full lips turn up in a satisfied smile and you are about to comment on it when he presses the sheath to your lips, stunning you once again.

He keeps the light smile as he moves your right hand again to grab the item, his hold sliding from your hand to your wrist as he guides your moves, settling the piece above your heart, making you cross your arm across your chest.

Your heart is beating at an insane beat as you eye him with suspicion, very deep down realising what is about to happen.

"Why are you doing this?" you whisper, scared to even make the question, let alone hear the answer.

He grins at you, saying, "Don't worry, I will collect my reward after I dealt with him."

With that he stepped back, putting your blade to his lips and mimicking the gesture he made you perform, then he walked away from you to go back to the podium where his opponent was already waiting for him.

They stood at a few feet from each other, in fighting stance, ready to attack the moment the Baron would let them.

The fight would have been quick but Feyd had other plans.

It was plain to see that the na-Baron was a far better fighter. And given the stories, you know the general must have seen the younger man fight in the arena before so you concluded that he indeed was an utter fool.

You stood there where he left you, surrounded by the morbidly fascinated audience that was witnessing his display. Because that's what it was a show put on for everyone to see.

Yes, he wanted to make the bastard suffer but it was more than that. This will be an example of what happens when someone tries to take away what is his, and all the while it is a chance to show his true power over a real opponent. So Feyd attacked, cut and then retreated to observe the man then he repeated the process. Again and again, until the general couldn't stand. Then Feyd-Rautha cut his throat with a swift move as the defeated man was kneeling before him.

The Baron laughed and spoke to the room, announcing that his nephew just won a wife and everyone was staring at you with disbelief while Feyd-Rautha was basking in his victory. You didn't hear or see any of it though, your focus solely on him, already knowing your fate without anyone telling you.

The next thing you knew the na-Baron was marching towards you and he grabbed you by your nape, pulling you into a forceful kiss. His lips pressing on yours, teeth biting into your lower lip, probably drawing blood as he demanded your surrounder. You gasped at the pain, granting him his wish of you opening up to him and he didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, claiming you publicly while your knees wobbled and you were holding onto him for dear life.

When he finally leaned back, he was smiling as he cupped your cheek with his free hand. "Aren't you going to congratulate me, my lovely bride?"

"Why? You already claimed your reward." Your answer was filled with anger but he didn't mind, he will make you forgive him, he was sure of it. But he couldn't help himself with a little more teasing because he liked to see that fire in your eyes.

"Not yet, my darling. Although if you can't wait for the wedding night, I wouldn't be against it."

You scoff and look away, your gaze finding your father and his mentat discretely arguing then looking back at you. They answer your silent question with a sorrowful expression and your father lightly shakes his head, meaning there is no way to avoid this.

Witnessing the exchange, Feyd clenches his jaw, and he roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"No!" he quietly growls through his teeth. "You are mine."

With that, he closes the distance between you again, this time kissing you longer and in a much more gentle manner despite his anger at your reaction. It's a promise that he hopes you understand. For you, he will try.

• Feyd-Rautha masterlist • Main Masterlist • Moodboards masterlist •

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[kpopnstarwars]

Within the Storms of Giedi Prime: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: the long awaited part two of upon the sands of the arena is hereeee

tw: 18+, smut (more than last time hehehe), p in v, swearing, Feels™, death, assassination, use of the Voice (not on feyd), less violence but still violence, i lack faith in my sequel writing abilities, blowjobs, SUB FEYDDDD, also DOM FEYDDD, sex Outside, lightning and thunder (it says storms in the title what do you expect)

wc: 4.2k

part 1

Giedi Prime is a miserable planet.

It’s evident in the choking, black smog from the factories in the dense air fused with the anguished cries of overworked slaves and the distant rumble of the still active volcanos. You’re near the Harkonnen’s palace grounds - you’re heading towards them, actually, and the promise of a… pleasant night; to your left, you can just about glimpse the looming silhouette of the great arena, squatting like a hulking beast on the horizon, waiting to swallow any poor soul that gets too close to its gaping maw.

Tonight, roiling storm clouds reign the sky, sending sheets of furious rain pounding down upon anyone who dares to be out at this hour - including you. Harsh bolts of lightning spear down, hurtling towards the ground like incensed, condensed moonlight and casting freakish shadows.

Moonlight: the colour of Feyd’s skin. If it weren’t for him, you’d already be off this sorry planet - alas, you must stay a little longer, your body already a little warm at the memory of his skilled fingers and scorching gaze. You haven’t been back since the encounter with the na-Baron in the arena months ago, and you can’t help but feel the sting of doubt in your chest, wondering if he’ll still want a second time, or if you’ll sneak into his room only to find yourself replaced by a concubine.

Not that you occupy significance to him anyway, you remind yourself. Feyd-Rautha could not replace you, because there would be nothing to replace, just ashes of a once bright fire.

Irked by the weakness of your own mind, you pull the hood of your cloak lower over your face, tightening it across your shoulders. The hem is sullied by browning blood: you disposed of your quarry just this morning, and delivered the decapitated head during the early afternoon.

Conveniently, the Bene Gesserit have left you alone for now, most likely tangled in the politics regarding the Kwisatz Haderach while trying to predict the next movement of Jessica Atreides - word is that she has burrowed her way deeper into the desert, surrounding herself and her son with the more fanatic of the Fremen as she bides her time, ready for her next strike.

It means that you’ve been granted enough time to establish yourself as a bounty hunter. For a highly trained Bene Gesserit, the work is easy, and earns you coin a plenty while keeping you on the move and as in shape as assassinating sloppy idiots attempting to run from debt and petty disagreements can.

Slipping through the palace’s perimeter proves easy enough. You use the Voice on a few guards, preferring it to cutting their throats: instructing them to keep quiet and forget you passed by causes much less of a commotion. The scaling of the ramparts that make up the circumference of the inner palace is the most challenging, due to the stone being slick with moss and rain - your fingers dig into the cracks between the weathered blocks of stone, the wind snapping and tugging at your cloak, fiercer now that you’re higher up.

There’s a narrow battlement ringing one side of Feyd’s room. You land on it silently, padding over to the window sill; curtains made of heavy black fabric layered on a dark, wispy privacy layer shroud most of your view of him. His pale skin is almost luminescent under the jagged flashes of lightning bathing his quarters, the blanket having slipped half off him during the night. He lies with his bare back facing you, although it’s hardly a vulnerability - you doubt anyone would be able to creep up on him easily enough to bury a knife into his exposed back without him tearing their throat out first.

Apart from you - hopefully.

Carefully, you ease the window open. A frigid gust of air rushes in as you climb through, and you witness the exact moment that Feyd awakens and becomes aware of your presence; imperceptibly, the muscles in his back ripple before he settles again - you posticipate the feel of them under your palms, hard, lean, perfect for sinking your nails into.

A thrill rushes through you at the sight of him, a sort of wondrous feeling, keen as a knife and just as cutting. You want him all over you, you want him to consume you until all you can remember is him and his smouldering eyes and sensuous touch.

Shrugging off your cloak, you let it pool to the floor around your feet before toeing off your shoes too; breath caught in your throat, you steal over to his bedside, your hand ghosting over the solid curve of his shoulder blade before you grip his shoulder, turning him so his back is flat against the mattress and straddling him in one fluid motion.

The cold kiss of metal meets your neck.

You almost moan at the look on his face. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, his eyes wild, frenzied almost, glittering with the same danger as before. Running your hands up his hard, sculpted chest, you smirk down at him, watching as ever so slowly, his gelid gaze defrosts with recognition, the ice giving way to those all encompassing flames, flames that you surrender to unequivocally.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ you murmur, fingers circling his wrist.

Feyd blinks, watching you as if he’s going to eat you as always. Slowly, the hand not wielding the knife roams waywardly down your spine, grabs a harsh fistful of your ass and lingers before gliding upwards and settling on your waist. He huffs, an abrupt, amused sound, but you don’t miss the way he greedily drinks up your figure with his eyes.

‘I thought I scared you away, little witch. Presumably, it was not too much for you?’

‘For me?’ You muse. ‘We’ll see.’

Knocking the blade from his hand, you ignore the screeching noise it makes as it skitters across the stone floor, instead enjoying the subtle inhale, loaded with expectancy, that Feyd takes as you lean in close to him. You hover above him for a prolonged moment, arms boxing him in, before he lurches upwards, connecting your lips with his.

A growl sounds at the back of his throat when he tastes you, licking into your mouth as his fingers press at the small of your back, bringing your lower body to meet his. Rolling his hips against yours, he tangles his fingers in your hair; you feel giddy with the feel of him against you, solid and warm and wanting, so real beneath you, so fucking insatiable.

You can’t get enough of him.

Slowly, you pull away, ablaze with the ravening craving in his eyes. The muscles in his well shaped chest flex as he tips his face up, following your lips, and you smile disarmingly at him, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his trousers and pulling them down.

Taking his chin in your palm, you tilt his head so you can look him in the eyes before swiping your thumb over his lower lip, savouring the way he’s putty in your hands: a man destined to be the Baron of one of the most influential, powerful Houses in the Imperium, a lethal, strikingly skilled warrior, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, humbled by your touch.

‘Let me taste you,’ you breathe - it’s almost a command.

‘Please,’ he chokes out, imploring you with his eyes.

Laughing, you press a hand to his sternum and push. He sinks back into the mattress, compliant, and you trail your lips down his neck and sternum, leaving hickeys in your wake. You're seized by the need to make him shake and beg and cry; you want to devour him.

Dragging your nails cruelly down his thighs, branding him with livid red scratches, you tilt your head to the side, a smile playing upon your lips as you listen to the groan that leaves him, the pricks of pain setting him alight with longing. There’s a devout look in his eyes - a fervent, zealous sort of lust that stirs within you with the impulse to make him forget his own name.

Curling your fingers around his hard length and giving him a few pumps, you watch him under your lashes, something akin to a power rush spinning your head around and around. Feyd is wonderfully sensitive, and a sneer pulls at your lips when his fingers scramble for purchase, fisting in his silky sheets as you press a chaste, loitering kiss to his cock head - a pearl of jet precum sits at the apex of it, dark against its rosy, delicate flush.

Dipping your hand into your pants, you collect your slick on your fingers and use it to jerk him - when you glance up, his pupils are blown wide; lips parted, he stares at you, transfixed.

Eyes locked on his, you take him in your mouth: his thighs tighten, every muscle taut as you run your tongue along the veins wrapped around the underside of his cock. His head tips back, displaying the strong lines of his neck as you hollow your cheeks, rubbing your thighs together to ease the increasing ache between them. Jaw slack, you gag when he hits the back of your throat, and he growls at the sight of your hungry eyes growing watery.

You toy with him, teasing him with your tongue and grazing your teeth lightly over his length until he’s gasping your name; the way the syllables leave his tongue is almost pleading, his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, his thighs shuddering, wracked with tremors.

It’s evident that he’s close, the voracity in his eyes so hot that it melts your bones, sending heat pooling in your core - you’re going to let him wreck your cunt after this; ruin you for any other man. Trembling, his pale fingers hover near your head, splaying over the expanse of your shoulder, his eyes fucking begging for permission, so you pull off him, laughing as his hips jolt forward at the loss, his cock twitching when your fingertips graze his balls.

‘Go on, Feyd,’ you coax. ‘Do as you wish.’

A tender, honeyed noise rips from low in his chest, almost a whimper, a sound you know no one has extracted from him before. It’s the only warning before he fists his hand in your hair, hips bucking as he fucks into your mouth, his eyes rolling back as you gag around him, the debased moan that escapes you sending vibrations down his cock.

You almost black out when he comes down your throat. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of air reaching your lungs or the sweet pain of Feyd’s hand yanking at your hair, but you’re sure that you’ve never taken so much pleasure in someone else’s release. Slowly, you sit up, moving to lie beside Feyd, and he smiles dumbly at you, maybe a little fucked out as he leans in to kiss you, sighing as he tastes his own come on your tongue.

‘I could spend hours exploring you, my little witch,’ he says, pressing his lips to your jaw.

Feyd flips you over with only an echo of ferocity from your previous fight, disrobing you and gripping your thighs, spreading them. Your hands find his shoulders, his back, your fingers resting in the dips of muscle there, trailing down the length of his spine as his own find your slick, yearning cunt.

Outside, the storm blows harder, rain pounding down upon the planet’s surface in sheets, lightning lancing through the thick billows of clouds; it is during one of these strikes that you glimpse that Feyd’s eyes are not as dark as they seem, but the colour of glaciers and blue fire. Within them, just beneath the keenness of his electric gaze, lurks something else - something that makes you hesitate. He senses it immediately, fingers pausing their movement, so you fit your lips to his.

You kiss him to avoid the emotions roiling in his stormy eyes.

He responds immediately, and you easily dismiss the thoughts clouding your mind; he barely knows you, there’s no room for the feelings you just saw in his gaze. You seek his body, not his soul, and it is the same both ways.

‘Fuck me,’ you mumble against his lips.

All coherent sentences leave your mind when he flips you over again, this time with your stomach pressed to his bedsheets as he kneels on the mattress behind you.

‘Ass up, my little witch,’ he commands.

Something within you goes molten at the sound of his voice. You can feel his gaze straying all over your skin, greedy, so you tuck your knees beneath you and arch your back, biting down on your lower lip as his palm presses against your lower vertebrae. He chuckles; it warms your bones.

‘You’re so filthy, little witch, displaying yourself for me.’

Bolts of ecstasy shoot through you as Feyd slides his cock head through your folds, his broad hands gripping your hips so tightly that you’ll be left with bruises. Your breath is punched from your lungs when he sinks himself inside you, balls deep, white hot pleasure rocketing down your spine - it tears a wretched cry from you, more so when he starts a brutal, near sadistic pace, the angle destroying you with vicious bliss.

The drag of his searing, velvet cock on your walls makes your toes curl. You think your body might shatter into a million pieces, the way he plucks the euphoria from it so agonisingly, so beautifully. One of his hands finds its way between your thighs, his thumb rolling endlessly over your clit; you find yourself teetering on the edge, suspended there a moment before you fall.

The way your cunt convulses around his cock as you come doesn’t stop Feyd. Unforgiving, he ploughs into you, his fingers still working on your clit, not breaking his rhythm even as you writhe beneath him, trying to jerk your hips away from his to no avail. It’s too much, the pleasure melting delectably into pain and still he can’t stop, won’t stop, his low snarl a warning in your ear as he pins you to the mattress with a hand between your shoulder blades, leaving you helpless to do nothing but take him.

Tears well up in your eyes, soaking into the sheets beneath you as he rails into you, his fingers speeding up on your clit until you’re begging him, tremors shooting through you from the aftershocks of your orgasm. His grip on your hips is unrelenting, and you sob as his pace increases, the savage friction sending you over again.

For the second time, you come hard around him, pussy clenching and fluttering, ragged cries wracking your body. This time, you bring Feyd with you, the sound he makes sharp and almost pained. He pulls out, and you mewl at the sharp tug of friction, panting as he comes on your back and ass, claiming you with his dark seed.

Breathless, he sits back on his heels as you straighten your legs until you lie full stretch, revelling in the post orgasmic rapture. Dimly, you hear his footsteps on the stone floor, but you pay them no mind, instead letting your eyelids droop as you rest your chin in the crook of your elbow.

Gentle hands encircle your ankles, carefully opening your legs. A second later, you feel a warm cloth at the apex of your thighs, and you whine, flinching away from the overstimulation. You hear Feyd’s chuckle, and the comforting sweep of his thumb against your skin as he cleans you up, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses on your back as he does; barely a moment after, the mattress dips, and strong arms pull you into a warm chest.

‘How are you, my little witch?’

You hum in response, not wanting to use words. Something niggles at your brain, even through the haze of pleasure. It’s got to do with the na-Baron’s gentleness after he fucks you; it unsettles you, the sweetness of him, and now these words, as if you’re a lover, and not… whatever this is.

One of his wide palms runs up and down your ribs, and you shove those thoughts to the side, instead enjoying his touch, the way your body fits into his, his chest pressed against your front as he traces patterns on your skin with his deft fingers; his lips brushing the nape of your neck, leaving soft kisses there. You find yourself curling away from him a little - his hands on you make something deep in your chest stir to life, something that shouldn’t be there. It’s -

A blinding flash of lightning, followed by the deep, throaty growl of thunder illuminates the room. You’re facing the door: in the crack between its solid masonry and the floor, you glimpse a shadow.

Hastily, you turn, one hand meeting Feyd’s chest, fingers falling into the dip his collarbone makes as you search his eyes, urgent. He stares back at you, not quite guarded, but not quite open any more, and you’re filled with the urge to protect.

‘Give me your knife,’ you hiss.

He sits up halfway. ‘What’s - ’

You push him back down, glaring at his resistance. You can sense the change in the air, hear the subtle scrape of someone’s boot across the stone floor and the swish of clothing behind the door - or maybe it’s just the building storm outside, the escalating charge in the sky as another bolt of lightning is generated.

‘Feyd. Give me your knife.’

Eyes quizzical, he produces it from somewhere behind him, handing it to you hilt first. It’s just in time, because the door swings open, a masked figure silhouetted there. You whirl around, covering Feyd’s body with your own.

They’re holding a knife.

It doesn’t take you a moment longer to send your knife hurtling towards them. The blade seethes through the air before embedding itself with a thunk into the assassin’s shoulder, and as they drop to the floor, you’re up in another second, poised in case there’s another. A flash of movement catches your eye - the dropped knife, retrieved and held in blood soaked fingers.

‘Stand down,’ you snap.

The Voice echoes through the room, and you pluck the knife out of the now frozen assassin’s grasp and slit his throat. Turning, you see the glimmer of amusement and awe in Feyd’s eyes; assassination attempts probably occur often, an estranged Bene Gesserit using the Voice in his room less so.

‘So many people seem eager to sneak into my bed chamber tonight,’ he remarks. ‘Although I must admit I preferred the first one.’

You laugh, collecting your clothes off the floor. ‘I’m glad.’

As you pull on your trousers, followed closely by your shirt, Feyd gets up, and you’re struck by the slow manner in which he approaches you, so much like the way he prowled towards you in the arena, but this time his eyes concerningly soft, his deadly, killing machine of a body marked with hickeys and love bites.

‘Why do you always rush to leave so fast, my little witch?’

‘I - I have places to be,’ you stammer.

He tilts his head. ‘At this hour of the night?’

‘...Yes.’

Feyd takes one step closer, close enough to kiss. ‘What are you afraid of?’

You back towards the window. ‘I fear nothing.’

‘Don’t lie to me,’ he warns. ‘I can see it in your eyes.’

Shaking your head, panic rising in your throat, you turn, the glass chilly on your fingers as you open the window. Feyd catches your other hand, but you whirl around and lash out, a blow to the face followed by a blow to the legs, and he staggers backwards, giving you enough time to slip out of the window and onto the battlements.

Outside, the storm has whipped up, the howling wind tearing at your hood and blowing it off, the rain immediately pouring down to soak your hair, sting your eyes, wet your face. You need to run, you need to get away from him, but the weak part of you - the part that you fear - slows your strides, tugging at you as if it’s tied to Feyd somehow.

He catches up to you easily enough.

Of course he does, he is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, and he is inexplicably bound to your soul in a way you cannot describe, in a way that terrifies you, shakes you to your very core. He catches your with a hand around your upper arm and presses you to his chest, your treacherous body reacting to him the way it always has as he stares down at you with those burning, icy eyes, droplets of rain running in rivulets down the moonlight planes of his chest.

Unease tears through you. You see it in his eyes, that he feels it too, and you dread the way it does not disquiet him. Your soul feels like it’s slowly rending in two - you need to get away from him, from the unguarded way he regards you, dedication clear in his unwavering gaze, but all the same, you need to remain with his arms trapping you to him, in the bewildering magnetism of his psyche.

‘Tell me what you fear, my little witch.’

You answer through clenched teeth. ‘I am not yours.’

‘You evade my question.’

You stare at Feyd, confounded. This man before you is the same man that you duelled in the arena, yet he is different; there is a certainty in his eyes, an acceptance that you yourself flee from. You’re drawn to him, even as the instincts that have kept your hollow heart intact all these years squall for you to break loose - and yet you fear that too, the evasion, because you know that if you run now, a part of you will be lost, snapped under the tension.

‘What do you - ’

You cut Feyd off. ‘Do you know what I fear, Harkonnen? I fear the look in your eyes, because it’s not just desire any more. You do not seek me in order that I inflict pain and pleasure alike upon you, you seek something else. I fear the look in your eyes because it is the same feeling that rises traitorously in my chest when I look at you, and it terrifies me.’

He’s silent.

You grab his shoulder. ‘Tell me you feel nothing, Feyd. Tell me you crave me for the thrill of adrenaline and the feel of my body - tell me and do not lie.’

His eyes bore into yours. ‘I cannot.’

‘Exactly.’

You wrest yourself from his grasp, turning and striding down the battlements. A strange feeling overtakes you, a prickle behind your eyes and a lump in your throat, an aching tug at your heart which you stalwartly ignore. It is over - you’re done. He made it harder than it ever had to be, but you’re going now.

He grabs your hand. ‘You cannot either, my little witch.’

Struggling, you snarl at him, clawing at your chest, but he pins you to the wall, his eyes aflame, searing, calling to something in you that rises up to meet him. This time, it is too strong; you cannot push it down, a part of you not even wanting to. You can feel Feyd all over you, your senses overwhelmed by him, by the way he presses his forehead to yours, forcing you to meet his gaze.

‘You do not have to fear it,’ he whispers. ‘Just let go. You’re holding on too tight.’

He dips his head, claiming your lips. You give in, yield to it, let it wash over you and carry you away on its blissful waves, your heart swelling in your chest at the way he touches you, tenderly, as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon; this is not Feyd, but this is him, irrefutably so.

You think this might be love.

It is a wild, white hot blade in your heart that twists, beauteous, enthralling. You believed that it would weaken you, shackle you, but you blaze with the glorious flare of it, the kiss of Feyd’s hips against yours stoking it further. Truly, it is magnificent.

In the only way you know how, you show him. It’s cataclysmic, the way you’re pulled to him like a comet caught in a planet’s gravity, streaking towards him, fated to collide, your hands roving over him, his over you, the taste of rain blooming on your tongue as you bite down on his shoulder, muffling a moan as he ekes sweet, tender pleasure from you. Your head tips back against the stone, eyes raised to the weeping sky, your lips parted as he fills you with his cock.

Feyd looks at you as if you are a goddess. He worships you, cradles you in his arms, anchoring you, grounding you. You do not know where he ends and you begin, nor do you want to know; you wish for your souls to meld, you wish for the two of you to be alone in the universe, unbothered by time or fate or anything.

‘You are mine, little witch,’ he intones against your rain soaked skin. ‘I am yours.’

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 1. Captive of your desires

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: choking and death threats

— WORDCOUNT: 2.2k

— A/N: I couldn't resist. I had to write more for him. Reader, I love him. This fic might go a little wild, because I want to play into this naughty boy's love for pain. Expect some subby Feyd, some inkpies, generally a messed up dynamic with an equally messed up reader. Hope you enjoy, my lovelies! 🖤

Seek freedom and become captive of your desires. Seek discipline and find your liberty. — Bene Gesserit Coda

House Harkonnen fell upon Arrakis like a hammer — with a deafening crash and destructive reverberation. After the palace was ransacked and the most important figures murdered, their bodies piled high and set alight, the stragglers were hunted through the streets and homes of Arrakeen. There was a week of slaughter. By the end, nothing moved. All spice production had ceased. Then the violence left the city and spread out into the desert, and the whole hemisphere of the planet was captured.

Arrakeen sat near the northern pole, on thick bedrock surrounded by natural fortifications that protected it from worm attacks. It was a difficult place to escape from. Those who remained were understood to be loyal to the Harkonnens, or at least indifferent to who held the power. The Atreides rule had been brief enough to not have garnered that many supporters. Only the rumour of their goodness and grace had been planted, and the Harkonnens returned before those could take root.

There can be said to have been a second Harkonnen takeover once Feyd-Rautha arrived. The Baron’s youngest nephew. Word was spread — or rather, been carefully planted — that he was the kinder, gentler of the Harkonnen brothers. The people greeted him like a saviour. Inside the palace, the atmosphere was more subdued.

It was a stark contrast to the transition from when Rabban came to power. No mass killings, no ransacking of rooms, just an orderly takeover through which the cold and calculating presence of Feyd-Rautha flowed. Furniture was rearranged. Staff was brought in from Giedi Prime. Brand new equipment arrived, especially for the spice harvesters.

The message was clear. The new planetary governor was thorough and exacting. Most of those in the palace breathed a sigh of relief, but there was at least one breath that stuttered.

She was there at his arrival, watching from a distance together with the throng of Arrakeen locals, Fremen and others, who gathered to see the procession. It was early in the morning, just before sunrise. He walked differently than other Harkonnen she’d seen. Rabban stomped through like a bull. The servants grovelled. The Baron was so fat he had to be suspended in the air. But this one, this one strolled through with confidence. Sleek and slender, he was beautiful in an inhuman way. That much she could make out from a distance.

He struck out at Fremen sietches on his very first day, using artillery fire and on-the-ground troops. An old way of doing things, but effective. It painted the new governor as precise, determined, and strangely honourable, and then word spread around the palace that he’d struck his own brother to the ground and made him kiss his feet. The word ‘humiliation’ was uttered. The news sewed a sliver of hope in the hearts of the longsuffering palace staff.

She had evaded close contact with the Harkonnens until then. It only made sense, as she was in hiding, slipping through the cracks of their negligence until she could procure safe passage off-planet, but that was getting more difficult by the day. What they lacked in caution, they made up for in paranoia, and all comings and goings were kept behind esoteric layers of bureaucracy. She was in the process of making contact with a smuggler when Feyd-Rautha gained governorship of the planet, and all her hopes were dashed.

It was the evening of his second day on the planet when she was called. The servant that summoned her looked at her like she was an apparition — which, in a way, she was. She had managed to remain undetected, keeping herself busy, staying out of sight, acting like she was meant to be there. She’d become part of the scenery and could dispel suspicion if anyone got too close. Her Bene Gesserit training was good for that if nothing else. But there was no escaping this. Somebody had finally found her and knew exactly where she was.

She followed the servant — a heavily armed pasty-white figure, crooked and willowy — to the chamber door of what she knew to be the largest office of the governor. He opened it for her, pushed her in, and locked the door behind her.

Like a tiny sun, a glowglobe floated through the room, its light falling on the smooth black surfaces of the furniture and the pale stone of the walls. She folded her hands before her, hidden by the long sleeves of her dress, and followed what the light revealed. The room was large and windowless, stripped bare of any useless item. The table was empty, the chairs were in their place, and upon the plinths set in the corners, no potted plants or works of art stood. Only one thing moved there, together with the light. Feyd-Rautha paced slowly, quietly, on the other side of the room.

“My lord na-Baron,” she said in a smooth and submissive voice. Her knees bent in a slight curtsy — respectful, but not too much. “You summoned me.”

She wore a garb that didn’t belong to any particular function. The long black dress would have fit just as well in the kitchens as in the cleaning staff, and the head covering was suited for the Arrakis weather, worn by any female. All of those with hair, anyway. The light material bent around her, giving her a slightly oval shape, soft and harmless. But when she looked up and caught the na-Baron’s gaze, he would have seen a sharper look there than that of any servant.

His eyes were cunning too. They looked upon her knowingly and with amusement, a strange manner for a Harkonnen.

“Who are you?” he asked with a playful squint.

His voice scratched across her skin like kitten claws. He didn’t sound the way he looked, and she admitted it surprised her. His tone, nevertheless, was gentle. Deceitfully kind. He could kill me in an instant, she thought, and take pleasure from it.

“My lord, I —”

“You were not on Rabban’s stafflist. I know that, because he didn’t have one. And you’re not on mine, because I didn’t ask for you. We have as of today an account of all the palace workers, but the list comes up with one extra room unaccounted for.”

Nights in Arrakeen were cold, but her skin just turned colder. What rotten luck, to be in the palace right when they decided to actually investigate who worked there and did what. It’s my own fault, she said to herself. I relied on their incompetence for far too long. Now I pay the price. So be it.

“I have been a servant in this palace for many years, my lord na-Baron,” she said with a slow bow of her head. “And I wish to serve you as well.”

“Is that so?” he purred, coming closer. His steps were lazy, but the pace was measured. He had more control over his body than his playful swagger let on. “Many years, you say? You worked for the Atreides, then?”

“And for Count Fenring before them.”

He stopped. She looked up at him from underneath her lashes and smiled in quiet satisfaction. Lady Fenring was a skilled Bene Gesserit sister and had lived in Arrakeen with her husband for many years before the Atreides decided on it for their capital. She was the most logical choice as a secret envoy to the Harkonnen heir. And if Feyd-Rautha met her, it could only mean one thing.

Uroshnor, she thought. He’s likely been imprinted with the usual prana-bindu phrase. It would stun him, if only for a moment. But long enough… It didn’t provide her a means of escape, but it gave her hope. It gave her room for manoeuvre.

“I am not a spy,” she said, straightening her back.

“Of course, a spy would say that.”

“You may test me in any way you wish,” she said with a playful chuckle.

Feyd’s eyes darkened at her proposition, a smile bending his full lips as he stepped closer. Oh, he could think of many ways to test her…

“What are you, then?” he asked, his voice scratching low and close as he stopped close enough to touch.

She could see now that his eyes were a clear blue. Not the sort of blue brought on by long-term spice exposure, that dark electric shade, but blue like water, like the sky, like a shard of ice. His jawline was firm — that of a biter. But his lips were pillow-soft and curled around the edges in a smile that wouldn’t go away. Lips made for laughing, made for kissing, made for love. He’s such a delicate boy. The thought ran through her mind before she realised.

“I served the Lady Fenring as a housekeeper,” she said.

“Lies.”

“My lord?”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? A damn witch.”

She remained completely still, her eyes locked on his. He was trying to dominate her with a hard incessant glare, but she held his gaze merely for the pleasure of it. What a comforting colour they were on such a harsh planet… No matter the malice behind them.

“You’re a Bene Gesserit. I’ve met your kind before,” he continued, looking down her body in a cruel, suggestive way. “You hold yourselves the way no other women do.”

“Perpans not like Harkonnen women.”

He chuckled, the sound scraping up his slender neck. “All women in the known universe are the same, given the right circumstances.”

“But not the Bene Gesserit.”

“Yes, not you,” he sighed, head tilting as if his mind was trying to escape a painful memory.

His eyes stayed upon her figure, trailing down the contours of her dress. Then he reached out a hand and touched it, his fingers tracing a silky pleat so lightly that it barely moved. She felt it still, the slight disturbance his caresses caused, but willed her body to stay motionless. There was no trace of aggression in him now.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

“You have not dismissed me, my lord na-Baron.”

He chuckled faintly. “I mean on Arrakis.”

“I wish to remain in the palace.”

“Why?”

“The deserts are harsh.”

“Many prefer that to serving a Harkonnen.”

“One master is as good as another.”

“I’m sure it must’ve felt like that to you,” he said, looking her in the eye again. His fingers left her dress and went to rest upon the hilt of a dagger at his belt. “So I take it you were one of Lady Fenring’s servants. A… fellow sister, would you call it?”

“I was part of her staff, yes.”

“And you didn’t leave with her and the Count when the Atreides came?”

“I remained behind to assist with training their staff,” she said with a bow of her head. Even now she retained a certain respect for that dead House.

“And Lady Fenring,” he hissed, the name dripping from his mouth like poison, “she never wanted to retrieve you?”

“I believe they think me dead.”

“Yes, she is not the sentimental sort,” he chuckled, and his cold gaze caught hers.

A dangerous thought was taking root behind those eyes, she could see it germinating. She waited, reading his body, scanning the minute changes in his expression, and tried to determine what went on behind that pallid mask.

There was envy there, and regret, and longing. The Harkonnens never kept Bene Gesserit truthsayers, nor were there any among the Baron’s concubines — all of them were young boys anyway. They were unique among the Great Houses in that way, and although she knew that Feyd’s mother had been a Bene Gesserit herself, he probably didn’t know what it was like to be raised by one. Why else would he be looking at her now as if he wanted to peel her clothes away, and then her skin, and reach toward her heart and grab it?

“How can I help my na-Baron?” she asked, her voice a whisper, her gaze a caress.

“By not getting above yourself,” he rasped with the air of slapping her offer away.

Her heart stuttered in her chest and she bowed her head to hide her terror. Did I read him wrongly? she thought to herself. I must not fear.

“House Harkonnen has no use for witches,” said Feyd.

She felt his strong hand grip her shoulder, slipping past the veil to curl around her neck. He stayed there, holding her in a half-choke just firm enough to feel her heartbeat in the palm of his hand.

“I ought to kill you,” he said sweetly, “and feed you to my darlings.”

Her lips parted, swelling slightly, and she felt her face go pale. The little death takes on a whole new meaning, she thought with grim amusement.

“But I do want to know one thing…”

“Yes, my na-Baron?” she asked in a shaky voice.

He breathed in sharply at the sound of it. He liked it. When she looked up into his eyes again, the grip around her throat felt not so much murderous anymore as it did greedy, possessive.

“I want to know… Do you have one of those pain boxes too?”

[shegatsby]

i'm aching for feyd rautha x fremen reader!!! perhaps soulmate situation where feyd has dreams about reader and is UTTERLY OBSESSED (please i yearn) ((im so normal about feyd rautha)) also pls drink water and its no rush :))

A/n; HIIIII! This is my first Feyd-Rautha fanfic so go easy on me. Thank you so much for this request, not me giggling and blushing as i was writing this. English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry for any typos.

Words; 5.315K (wow i out did myself lol)

Warnings; War, killing, abduction

He was running, he could feel the rain on his face but he kept running. Moist sand and wet mélange filled his nostrils, the damp sand stuck to his heavy boots, the sound they made was similar to walking on the fresh snow. He never thought he could smell things in his dreams, ‘’Find me.’’  A woman’s soft voice echoed in his ears, ‘’I dare you.’’ And there she was, standing in her stillsuit, hair long and wet, over the years her face was getting more and more clear. Before Feyd could reach and grab her he woke up. He was sweating and he wasn’t in Arrakis, he was in Giedi Prime, House Harkonnen. He could feel the cold satin of his sheets, ‘’Who are you?’’ he whispered into thin air, nothing moved or made a sound. His room was dark, as usual. He rose to his feet and walked to the large glass, his side of the castle over looked the volcanic wasteland that was Giedi Prime, heavly industrialized, low photosynthesis. Harkonnen’s kept the original forests but other than that everything was stone and building.

Feyd-Rautha was a rational man when it comes to these things, however, he kept having these dreams since he was a child. In his dreams he was either in his home planet or Arrakis, he wasn’t alone. The girl in his dreams had always been distant, over the years the girl kept coming closer and closer. Last few months he could see her face clearly. She was a beauty, none of his concubines could match it. Sometimes they would sit in silence or he would chase her… he was going to lose his mind. He needed answers to these dreams, with the arrival of Reverend Mother Helen Mohiam he hoped to get those answers he was looking for. He ordered his men to keep the Reverend Mother at greeting room, when he got ready he left his chambers in a hasty manner. He was a man of action and he didn’t like waiting or making his guest wait, he had a reputation to keep.

Reverend Mother was seated at one of the metal chairs, covered in black clothing, she fitted the room, the castle of Harkonnen was mostly black and grey, servants and soldiers had to wear the same colors as well.

At first Reverend Mother had to test him to see if he was human or not, he followed her instructions and put his hand in a box, he had to endure the pain which was something he got used to and he even enjoyed getting hurt but this was something else. He could feel his hand burn and freeze at the same time, visions ran at a fast speed in his mind’s eyes. He was eager to prove himself so he didn’t flinch, he could feel sweat running down his face, Reverend Mother didn’t not react at all.

‘’You have passed the test.’’ She announced in a flat tone but he knew she was impressed.

‘’My turn.’’  He said which confused the old woman, he was kneeling for this test so he bolted to his feet and took a step back. Hands clasped at his back, he seemed intimidating in his black tunic and pants. His boots made him look much taller than others and he was already a tall man.

‘’What do you know about dreams?’’

‘’Tell me yours and I shall reveal the truth.’’ His eyes searched her face, which was difficult to see through her thin scarf, ‘’I-‘’ he started, ‘’I see.. her.’’ He was hesitant. Reverend Mother noticed the way he said ‘’her’’ this woman must be of importance. ‘’Go on.’’ Old age made her curious for gossip and she thought she was about hear the juiciest one, she didn’t know she was going to discover something larger. Larger than anyone on this Universe.

‘’I’m usually in Arrakis, it rains, and I see her. She speaks to me. She wants me to find her in the desert. I believe she is a Fremen.’’ He shortly explains, Reverend Mother leaned in, ‘’What does he say exactly?’’ Feyd felt naked before this old witch. ‘’ ‘Find me.’ She says, I could hear her in my mind. She wants us to unite.’’ There was a silence, his patience running thin, was he going insaner than usual or these dreams meant something?

‘’Arrakis… rain.. a girl…’’ he heard Reverend Mother whisper to herself, ‘’How long have you been having these dreams?’’ she asked, she was the one who suppose to give answers to him and yet she was questioning him. ‘’Since my childhood.’’ And with that Reverend Mother quickly stood up, which was quicker than expected, considering her age. ‘’I must speak to your uncle Baron Vladimir. Wait us here.’’ He had no choice now, the Pandora’s box was opened. He would rather fight in the arena than waiting here. He was pacing in the large room that had black marble floors, his boots made distinctive sound son the cold floor, his head turned to the doors of the room when they were opened by the servants, his uncle came floating, next to him Reverend Mother followed, Baron was ear to ear smiling, ‘’Hearing these news on your name day is nothing but fate.’’ The old man announced, it was true. Today was Feyd-Rautha’s name day and a ceremony was waiting for him later. ‘’Congratulations, Reverend Mother here says you’ll be the one who raise Harkonnen to its glory.’’ He said with his raspy voice, he seemed joyful even, well, a joy that fit him, cold and calculating. Feyd’s snake like neck moved in questioning, ‘’What about Rabban?’’ his brother Rabban was in Arrakis, ruling in the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, mostly failing him and their family. ‘’He will be reassigned.’’ In their family this meant that it was his last chance, or he would be killed.

‘’Enjoy Arrakis.’’ A cunning smile made him look even more terrifying. He left them alone, Feyd was confused but also the idea of controlling spice made his body electric. ‘’To fulfill your destiny you have to find that Fremen and to secure your place you have to join your house with their kind. They shall be easier to control. I’m sure she is waiting for you to claim her.’’ Reverend Mother was testing the waters, she watched Feyd-Rautha’s expression change into predator mode after she spoke. Now it was a hunt for him and she knew that he won’t stop until he fulfilled his mission.

Feyd knew what Reverend Mother meant but to join with the barbarians?! His house’s reputation could be at stake. He was a psychotic killer but he had rules. He will not tolerate anything that might humiliate his family name. he didn’t want to think further about this so he found himself marching to the arena. After the games he was suppose to have his ceremony and be shipped to Arrakis, his new home.

His ‘’ascending’’ to the title of ‘’Na-Baron’’ was well organized. Rabban lost his rank so it was his time to shine, bring glory and fame to his name and his house. Among the loud cries and applauses Baron Vladimir held his nephew’s face in his sweaty palms and whispered into his ears, ‘’Do not fail me son.’’ It wasn’t coming from affection, it was a threat. He knew his missions;

‘’Control Rabban,

Take over the spice production and multiply the income,

Fulfill what Reverend Mother said.’’

First two were easy…

That night he was shipped to Arrakis with an army and his most loyaly men. As soon as he landed he had one thing in mind, ‘’make Rabban pay for his foolishness’’, ‘’My Na-Baron,’’ servants greeted him outside the castle of Arrakis, hot sun hit his face, he could smell the mélange. ‘’Lord Rabban is waiting for you.’’ As she walked to the Coordination Chambers he watched servants bow in fear and respect. He liked what he saw. Without waiting for servants to open the door for him he barged in. ‘’Rabban!’’ he yelled in animalistic anger. No one noticed the was Rabban flinched but him. ‘’You have humiliated our house,’’ he took a step towards him, ‘’you have humiliated me.’’ And another step. ‘’Kiss my foot.’’ He said cautiously, waiting for Rabban’s reaction and since none came Feyd pushed Rabban to the floor, ‘’Kiss or die.’’ Rabban  had no choice but to give in.

Following days were easy. Fremens didn’t know the change in command so first attack was successful. Spice production was slow but promising. Other houses started to send gifts and letters to him to gain his favor. ‘’He who controls the spice controls the entire galaxy.’’ his uncle used to say to him as a child and he was right.

Weeks passed and every time he launched an attack he was also at the front with his men. Main reason was his thirst for blood and gore, however a side of him was looking for something or rather someone. Ever since his arrival his dreams became more frequent and vivid.

The girl kept saying ‘’You’re close.’’

She must be near he could feel it, but among thousands of Fremen girls how was he suppose to find her?

Whenever they attacked he ordered his men to gather Fremen girls who were close to his age, after capturing them he would look at their faces and try to find her but his research was in vain, or so he thought.

Months passed, he was growing restless and Fremen knew how to fight. Disputes were bringing imbalance to the realm. He was refusing to sleep due to the fact that you were in his dreams and he was making plans, growing tactics to find you.  Also he didn’t have much time since the Padishah Emperor Shaddam sent him a letter;

‘’Find what you are looking for and bring stability.’’

It was a direct order otherwise he knew that Padishah Emperor would sent his soldiers, Sardaukars to take over what he had established so far.

After that letter his attacks grew more persistent.

‘’Na-Baron, Prisoners are here.’’ Without changing his blood dripping battle suit he marched to the room where the prisoners were kept. They were all on their knees, hands tied behind their backs. ‘’How many?’’ he asked to his general, removing his leather gloves, ‘’20 my Na-Baron.’’

Sleepless night had a toll on him, he was more on the edge than usual. It was going to be almost a year since he came to Arrakis. Fighting with Fremens put the spice production at risk and he couldn’t have that. ‘’I am looking for someone.’’ He began, Fremens knew by now that he was looking for a girl, old Fremens believed that it was a part of a prophecy long forgotten, most of the young ones thought it was a Benne Gesserit tactic to control them.

‘’Eyes up!’’ he yelled, and they looked up to meet his vicious gaze, at the corner one of the girls looked up and immediately lowered her gaze. ‘’You!’’ he pointed to the girl, ‘’Bring her to me.’’ He ordered and two of his men dragged her to him. His pale hand held her face to look deeply but it was false alarm, it wasn’t her. ‘’Why did she move her eyes though?’’ he thought. She seemed like she was holding something… information? Maybe.

‘’It seems like you know me.’’ He said quietly, ‘’I don’t know you.’’ He northerner accent filled his ears. Her voice was shaking and her fear gave it away, ‘’Ohh,’’ Feyd-Rautha loved to see fear in people’s eyes. ‘’You and I, we’re going to have a talk.’’ He moved his head slightly to the left and his men took the girl to a questioning room. Others moved in their places with an uneasy manner.

Feyd didn’t want to waste no time so he followed his men to the room. Inside the castle was kept at a mild temperature, outside was hell. He never thought he could get used to the heat but he adapted.

Feyd watched his men chain the girl to a metal chair and also watched the scared girl observe the room. Brown walls and floors were covered in blood, there were human parts here and there. ‘’What are you going to do to me?’’ she asked trying to stay calm. He wasn’t in the mood for torture since he just came from a battle, ‘’Nothing if you aid and abet. You might even have a luxurious life for your family in the city.’’ Rich Fremens lived in the city. He was actually being honest, she could tell. ‘’Tell me what do you know.’’ If one looked closer it could be seen that he was tired, after all he was human and human beings had their limits. ‘’Promise you won’t hurt her.’’

With the mention of you, his posture got straighter, ‘’I don’t intend to.’’

‘’And promise you let those women go to their homes.’’ Feyd felt generous today, ‘’Set them free.’’ He ordered which shocked his men, ‘’But my Na-Baron,’’ his solider’s sentence cut short since Feyd cut his throat. ‘’You heard me.’’ He warned his other soldiers. ‘’Now,’’ he looked at her, ‘’your turn.’’

The girl seemed cautious. ‘’I… I think I know who you’re looking for.’’ She started, ‘’I have a friend, since childhood. She keeps telling me her dreams of a man.. description fits you perfectly.’’ She finished as if an invisible burden lifted off of her shoulders. ‘’She is a respected soldier’s daughter, they live in a secluded cave, well guarded. It won’t be easy.’’ Feyd smiled in anticipation,

‘’I don’t want easy.’’

The girl gave the exact coordinates, as he was leaving he stopped in his tracks, ‘’What’s her name?’’

‘’Y/N.’’

He rested during the day, he wanted to attack to their Sietch when its late night. ‘’Y/N…’’ he whispered like praying to Gods. ‘’A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.’’

The sietch was in deep desert but his men were perfectly prepared. He positioned his men at the exists and entrances of the sietch.

They blasted the stone walls which were doors, Fremen knew how to be one with the desert. Fremen were ambushed, they didn’t expect the attack but they were brave, sietch was big with multiple floors. Since Y/N was a well respected soldier’s daughter she must be upstairs with other higher ranks. He moved past everyone, climbing the stone stairs, screams were music to his ears. He pushed and kicked everyone who was on his way. Upstairs the rooms had thin green curtains that were see-through. He didn’t bother with crying children and their mothers, his one and only mission was to find Y/N and leave with her. As he was walking carefully on the long hall which had rooms on his left and right he felt a presence at his back. His blade crashed with another. The woman was in her stillsuit just like others, her face and hair covered with a dirty beige scarf, only eyes could be seen. ‘’Move out of my way girl and you will live.’’ When the girl heard his voice he noticed the hand she was holding the blade go soft for a split second but gained strength once again.

Feyd’s suit was specifically designed for him, head to toe he was dipped in jet black, a mask covering his face yet his eyes were there like dark diamonds. Shining with thirst. She didn’t say anything and made her move. She was passionate, it didn’t go unnoticed by him, maybe she had a thirst for blood just like him. Feyd stepped back and her crysknife licked the air. ‘’I gave you chance.’’ Feyd said before he launched at her, he was swift but the girl answered every stroke. ‘’You are good…’’ he was out of breath, her stance was weak, ‘’but not that good.’’ And they danced. Feyd made her trip, Fremen girl wasn’t even making a sound while attacking, she was like the desert, silent. Her moves made him think of swans, elegant yet bold. Feyd could feel that tonight he was going to satisfy his need for blood. 

Fremen girl threw sand to his face to get advantage because she was unstable, ‘’Unfair.’’ She heard him say. He rubbed his eyes and had to remove his mask. She saw him under the orange glowglobe, her knife dropped and ran to the opposite direction.

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t a stupid man. This action of hers gave her true identity. Like a predator he began the chase, it was thrilling. It wasn’t easy to spot her among Fremens who wear the same colored suits but it made the chase more fun. Something in him told him to go to the nearest exit and he did.

He had fewer men outside since most of the action was inside the sietch, the sand was covered in blood and his man laying stiff on the ground. One of his men lost his weapon, maybe she took it?

He closed his eyes to listen to the desert, he could hear swift motions, he followed where the sound coming from, there were large rocks to his left and he moved. Someone jumped at him behind the rocks, he fell to the ground, smell of spice made him a bit dizzy but he composed himself quickly. Two small hands grabbed his throat, sitting on top of him. She was screaming in ecstasy, maybe she never killed someone and she thought this was going to be her first. Feyd thought it was cute that she thinks she could kill him. With all of his strength he moved to his side dragging her along with him. Now she was laying on the ground, with one of his hand he pinned her hands above her head, he didn’t forget to give all of his weight to make her stay put, her legs wrapped around his waist. With his other hand he found his knife and cut her scarf. Her pure face revealed under Arrakis’s two glowing moons. His animalistic smile grew, ‘’Found you.’’ She was struggling to get away, like an animal trapped in a cage. ‘’Sleep tight.’’ And he injected a sedative, in seconds her shiny eyes closed.

Arrakis has woken up to a new day, a new era one might say. Na-Baron was energetic, he woke up to a letter from Reverend Mother; ‘’Now that you got what you came for it won’t be hard to continue.’’

It was a simple message for an ordinary man’s eyes yet Feyd-Rautha wasn’t an ordinary man. It meant that ‘’Bring stability by uniting his house with the Fremens.’’ Last night’s events showed that he needed much time to break her to his liking. He had so many questions to ask her…

After a really long time Feyd had a boyish excitement. He was having his breakfast eagerly in his bed chambers when his door knocked and his Mentat walked in. ‘’How is she?’’ he asked eating his beef. ‘’My Na-Baron, she is creating chaos. Unstable.’’ He chuckled, sucked the juice off of his thumb, ‘’Take me to her.’’

She was kept in a guest room, probably biggest room she had ever had the luxury of staying, his Mentat went in first and Na-Baron heard the immediate screams from her, he also heard some metal clinging and barged in. She was chained at the end of the room, her hands and neck. ‘’What is the meaning of this?!’’ he yelled to his Mentat, ‘’Why is my bride chained to a wall?!’’ he could feel the rage in his veins. ‘’My Na-Baron, she is aggressive and killed a servant. We had no choice.’’

‘’Leave us.’’

When the door closed a thick silence occupied the room. She was standing in her stillsuit, hair a mess, and anger in her pretty eyes, eyes that were so familiar to him. He slowly approached, watched her move to the opposite direction, as he got close he could see the red marks on her wrists and neck. He came to a stop at a white line on the floor, his Mentat must have painted it.

‘’I’m not going to hurt you little dove.’’ His voice was calm which puzzled her, he was yelling at his Mentat seconds ago. His raspy tone which was inherited in his bloodline made her take a step back. ‘’Are you hungry?’’ she was shocked at his questioning. She only nodded, ‘’If you promise to not attack my servants they will bathe you and give you clean clothes, later you can have a fulfilling meal.’’ He tilted his head, his sharp jaw pointed like a blade, ‘’How does that sound?’’ Feyd could tell that she was tired and strangers made her uneasy, Fremens were a close-knit community, didn’t like strangers but they weren’t strangers, they haven’t been for a long time. Even though she didn’t let her guard down he could feel that she was less tense. ‘’I will be back.’’

After an hour or so Feyd was informed that she didn’t attack anyone, let the maids bathe her and dress her. Now she was eating, perfect timing.

Feyd-Rautha checked himself on the mirror, he had sleeveless black tunic and black pants, black boots. As usual. He left his chambers to visit her.

He opened the guest room door to see her eating, two maids waiting at her back. Y/N stopped eating when she saw her. She had a dark purple dress, showing her elegant shoulders, as he cautiously approached she smelled like a garden of roses, her hair brushed and braided. ‘’Leave us.’’ His eyes never leaving her. As the maids were leaving he didn’t forget to press the button on his chest, he had an invisible shield. Just in case.

‘’Please,’’ he said ‘’continue.’’ He sat next to her, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. In the menu there was red wine, cooked fish and fruit. ‘’I’ve chosen the menu for you, is it to your liking?’’ she took a sip from her wine to clean her throat, half of the fish was eaten already. ‘’What is this?’’ she pointed at the fish, this was the first time Feyd heard her in real life. He had a victorious smile which Y/N found it odd. ‘’Fish. Have you ever seen a live one before?’’

‘’No.’’

‘’They live in the sea, lakes, rivers…’’ he stood up to move close to the wall to wall window, ‘’Imagine this desert filled with water. In that water animals like fish lives.’’ He turned to see her reaction, her eyes shone interest, ‘’I’m going to take you to planets that have sea.’’ He was speaking more to himself.

‘’What do you want?’’ she asked harshly, ‘’I want you.’’

Fremens were up front about their thoughts and feelings but seeing an outsider being that way shocked her. ‘’We have the same dreams since childhood. Am I mistaken?’’ he had to be sure. She nodded, ‘’Don’t you think this is.. fate?’’ yes, she was having the same dreams of him, last night when she saw his face her body was in fight or flight and she choose flight. All she wanted to do right now get the knife from the table and jab it to his pale neck, she thought nothing was stopping her so slowly her left hand went to the table, Feyd’s back was turn but he had pointy ears. She jumped from her seat to his back, like a monkey but an invisible energy was pushing the knife from his neck. Feyd’s laughter echoed in the room and with one move he pulled her from his back and made her stand in front of him, holding her hands behind her back, now they were glued. This was the first time they were this close without war gear, he could feel her breasts pressing his chest, up close she noticed how smooth his arms were, and how masculine he was. ‘’I didn’t expect the least from you.’’ He said smiling, he was mad, that’s for sure. She lost her temper.

‘’You murdered my kin! You killed my family, my friends! I would rather die!’’ the fire in her eyes intrigued him. Her eyes were getting blurry, she was fighting to escape but his grip was strong.

‘’If they gave me the spice willingly none of this would happen.’’ He said with a serious tone, ‘’Let go of me!’’ she screamed, ‘’I would rather be eaten by Shai Hulud than be your bride!’’ she was crying now, her vision was blurry and Feyd let her go. Y/N’s tired arms which held bruises from last night hitting his chest, ‘’I have no one-‘’ she was having an attack, ‘’because of you-‘’ Feyd felt a lump in his throat, it was strange to him, he never thought he would feel sadness but here he was. He achieved everything he ever wanted but why did he have a bitter taste in his mouth?

She was shaking violently, Feyd held her, the reality of the situation hit her like a sand storm. People that she called family were gone by the hands of this man who was holding her so delicately…

These hands that were brushing her hair committed atrocities…

Months of hiding and fighting made her fall to her knees, she lost to the outsider.

‘’You have me now.’’ She heard the Na-Baron say, ‘’Shh,’’ she felt his plump lips on her hair, ‘’you have me little dove.’’ Her body gave in and she fainted.

‘’It was a seizure due to stress my Na-Baron.’’ Feyd-Rautha was by her side, she was sleeping, when Mentat left he found himself holding her hand and climbing to bed. ‘’What if this doesn’t work out?’’

The pressure of keeping his family name at its glory kicked in. Feyd lived his life to be the perfect Harkonnen, could he loose it all?

Reverend Mother was suppose to come to Arrakis in a few days to see Y/N and question her, they only had few days to get to know each other. What would happen if Reverend Mother didn’t see Y/N as a right match for their breeding program? But the dreams… element of fate.. it was too much for him. He let his body relax next to Y/N’s, still holding her hand he fell asleep.

Y/N felt a presence next to her and her eyes opened immediately. It was night, and a glowglobe lit the room dimly, the night was silent. To her left she saw him, sleeping peacefully, her hand in his, she wondered how could someone commit murder day and night and then sleep like this. No care in the world, she thought, how wrong she was.

At first she thought her dreams to be simple imagination of children, later in life the dreams grew frequent. In her dreams she kept seeing him holding her hand and leading her to new planets, the first person she told about these dreams was her father who took her to an old lady, after having a mélange session the old woman started to scream ‘’So it’s written!’’ there was an old prophecy long forgotten, a Fremen girl was going to marry an outsider which would bring stability. For years her people had fought, hid in the shadows, she never believed the prophecy and moved on but her father and her close friend and that old woman believed religiously. She turned to observe him. He looked so pure she didn’t want to believe that this man was the man she fought back at home. ‘’Like what you see?’’ his raspy voice had amusement. She didn’t move or said nothing. He opened her blue eyes, his hand gently went up to trace the outlines of her face, ‘’Give me a chance to introduce myself.’’ And he kissed her hand, together they fallen asleep again.

The next morning they had breakfast in silence, ‘’I want to show you something today.’’ He announced and he took her to the garden inside the castle. Years ago his ancestors built a garden inside that well kept and full of flowers from different planets. Y/N had never seen these before, she read about plants because she was interested in them but seeing them in real life was something else. She found herself smelling every flower, Feyd noticed the huge smile on her face, they sat among the flowers, neither of them dared to utter a word. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, she was in awe of this place and Feyd was in awe of her. She looked divine in her orange dress, she looked positively care free.

All day they didn’t speak a word to each other, Feyd gave some orders, other than that he intend to keep the silence. In silence there was no rejection, no fighting. They had dinner together, and he watched her take off her clothes wear her night gown and lay on the bed. They were in his bed chambers so he also changed and went to bed. There was a space between them which Feyd didn’t like. He was discovering new things about himself such as desire to have physical contact. Her back was turned to him, he came close and hugged her from behind, she didn’t move.

The days that followed were the same. Slowly Feyd started to give her information about his life here and there, she listened intently but her heart was with the desert. So many times Feyd caught her staring out the window, Y/N also made comments to things he said or shared memories of her past. She had to make a decision but she wasn’t in hurry since the Harkonnen’s and Fremens stopped fighting since she was captured. That night she felt the cold side of the bed and woke up, Feyd was gone, yes they slept in the same bed for days but nothing happened. She rose to her feet and fell on her knees, the castle was under attack. Sirens could be heard everywhere. Out the window she saw Fremens attack the castle, she found a knife from Feyd’s closet and left the room. The halls were packed with Harkonnen soldiers, marching outside to meet the attack and they had heavy machines, also their numbers higher than Fremens. She had to find him and put an end to this.

Bare foot she was running, they all seemed the same, pale skin and black suits. When Y/N saw his Mentat she ran to him, ‘’Where is he?!’’ she yelled, it was chaos, chaose everywhere. ‘’My lady you shouldn’t be outside.’’ She didn’t care, ‘’Where is he?!’’ she demanded. ‘’At the entrance, greeting the Fremens.’’ And she ran. Mentat was right he was fighting and killing her kin, he was a skilled killing machine.  ‘’FEYD!’’ she screamed at the top of her lungs. Fremens that knew her stopped in their tracks, shocked to see her in a luxurious night gown, they were here to collect her. ‘’FEYD!’’ the Fremen he was fighting stopped when he saw her and it made Feyd stop too, among dust and falling men he turned to face her. He was covered in blood, holding knives in both of his hands, he slashed open the Fremen’s throat and walked to her. She could feel her blood run cold.

‘’How could you?!’’ she attacked, Feyd immediately held her hand that was holding the knife, her knife dropped.

‘’Mary me!’’ he screamed, ‘’Mary me and I’ll stop the war.’’

Y/N looked around, watching her people fall to the sand and lose it was too much to bear, it was high time someone put an end to this and if it was her then she had to fulfill her destiny.

She said nothing but held his face and kissed his plump lips.

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The way you say my name

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x female!Reader

Its pure smut and since its about Feyd, there are some warnings: he is not so gentle. There is desire on both sides and it ends up getting in the praise kink/forced orgasm territory.

Summary: Your planet has brought magic into the galaxy - a source of new spice- and upended the political status quo. You are the sole heiress of your house and the emperor decided that the best way to protect your family's survival is to betroth you to the most enigmatic but violent fighter in the known universe: Na Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, dangerously seductive and very intrigued by you …

2.203 words

one shot ( for now)

_________

Your whole body was tense, filled with anticipation and nervousness. You noticed your fingers were unconsciously playing with your belt again, and with effort you made yourself refrain from doing so. It was not your first time in the Emperor's court, nor was it your first state reception. Still, it was the first time you had set foot on Kaitain since the new spice was discovered on your planet. Something that had been considered impossible for millennia and that would shake the existing power structures in the Landsraat and the entire known universe. From an insignificant house on a planet beyond Orion, blessed with centuries of stability because of it, your family has been catapulted into a position of a central political player. Your fate, albeit a small piece of a power play against the backdrop the these developments. "Our task is greater than ourselves. Our fears, smaller." The mantra that helped you hold a steady course. You relax your shoulders and notice how your back straightens. 

At that moment, a festively dressed servant entered the room to announce Baron Vladimir Harkonnen and his nephews arrival. Even though you had been prepared for this encounter, the sight was a shock to her. At the first glance he is less imposing then Rabban, who moved into the room like a mountain of muscle and leather uniform. But there is a slow and steady menace in the way he carries himself. His demeanor, both elegant and commanding, reminded you of a marble statue brought to life; his skin almost seemed to illuminate the room, a contrast stark against the dim flicker of torches.

If he had eyebrows, he would certainly have raised one a little crookedly by now. But as it was, his ice-blue eyes suddenly started at you, and you sensed a hardness in his entire demeanor that you weren't used to at home and whose traces you might have felt in her upbringing with Bene Gesserit, but which had always been wrapped in a velvet glove. But power, violence and strength were clear to see in this man. The reason why the Emperor wants to make him your husband - the only one who can apparently guarantee the safety of your planet. He was not used to having to hide his true character. And that is exactly what you would make his downfall.

The formalities dragged on endlessly, time seems to slow down under his gaze. He cannot comprehend you, the strangeness of your features, the luxuriant curls of your hair falling over your shoulders in an elegant half updo, the waves of burgundy silk of your cloak adorning your shoulders, your dress of the same silk and lace - how can anyone appear so vulnerable and exposed? Especially one who holds the key to the most coveted of secrets - a new spice, as powerful as the one exported from Arrakis, but with fewer dangers, Fremen rebellions and more sustainable methods of harvesting. Only this thin fabric separates you from him, something his knife could shred in seconds. He notices that your eyes have left his and are now focused on his hand, gripping the blade at his waist so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He unclenches his hand and offers it to you, bowing slightly. 

"My lady, would you allow me to escort you?"

You place your hand on his and he almost jerks back, surprised by its warmth.

"A mere twist of nature, I tend to forget how shocking it must be to someone not from my home. Our temperature has evolved to be slightly higher than the average, so that when the temperature drops at night, we never fall below a certain threshold".

He listens to you as you walk down the hall towards the banquet room, taking in your voice, the slight swish of your gown on the floor, the click of the delicate gold chains around your neck disappearing into the modest cut of your dress. 

His thoughts oscillate between genuine intrigue with you and your planet, both of which he will soon call his, and a burning desire to test your seemingly obvious fragility, to see how many times he can take you before you beg for mercy, how many bites into your skin will make you whimper, how many slaps on your ass will bring you to your knees regretting whatever misdeed you may have done. You can see his hunger, thinly veiled by manners, and you are sure that he is not accusing you in front of everyone for being in the Emperor's house and not on Giedi Prime. He seems so lost in thought that you have to repeat your question.

"Are you all right, Na Baron? Is something wrong? My conversational skills must be truly dull to bore you so".

He seems to come back to the present, his eyes resting on yours again, the colour of pure blue, like a deep frozen mountain lake. You look down, and just as he finds his voice, the Emperor rises to end the banquet.

"Then I shall bid you good night. If you wish, join me in the botanical garden tomorrow before noon. Perhaps my conversation skills will have improved by then".

He nods and stands to pull out your chair, taking the opportunity to let his fingers slide down your spine through your dress as he moves the chair to the side. He will join you tomorrow alright.

_____

The sun flickers through the canopy of trees above you, leaving a mosaic of shadows on the small, flat cobblestones of the path. You have your hair in a braid that sits like a halo around your head, your arms bare in the sun, dressed in a light linen top and form-fitting trousers that allow for more movement as you tend to the plants. The small patch in front of you is half empty, with small plants dug up. Their purple roots are gnarled and wobbly, while the vines are the darkest shade of green. A tiny bead of sweat clings to your eyebrow, and you pull off your glove to remove it. 

"Is this how my intended likes to spend her time?" His voice behind you, rough and deep. You are startled and drop the glove. He picks it up and holds it out to you, looking straight into your eyes again.

"Thank you. Sometimes I do," you give him an open smile and take the glove back from him, he holds it for a second longer than necessary, seemingly puzzled by your open expression once again. "These plants are from my home, the Emperor tries his best to cultivate them here, but we cannot figure out why they do not develop as they should," you look up at him, his gaze still unmoved from your face.

"Am I boring you again, Na Baron?"

"Not at all," his tongue moves over his lush lips, brushing his cupid's bow.

"Well then, these tiny plants are one of the main factors in the production of the new spice. Their sap is..." You take a small knife from the box beside you and just as you cut into one of the roots, your hand slips and a red streak of blood appears on your left hand. In an instant, a small trail of red drips down your palm and onto the light stones at your feet.

His eye darkens as he grabs your post, ignoring the plant in the flower bed, and brings the injured hand to his lips. A shower passes through you, his tongue brushing your skin, electrifying.

"You should be more careful, my lady." 

His voice almost a growl, his soft and plush lips sucking lightly at your skin, leaving a red mark around them. 

"Yes, I should, Feyd," you are not sure if calling him by his name was a familiarity you allowed yourself too soon, but his reaction proves you wrong. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his face inches from yours. You feel your breath mix, his scent sweet and musky around you.

"Say my name again" There is no politeness to hide his hunger now.

"Feyd..." An almost unbearable exhalation is all you can manage. And with that, he closes the gap between you and descends on your lips, devouring you. His kiss tastes slightly metallic as you taste your blood on his lips, his tongue touching your teeth, demanding entry. You give in, melting into his ministrations, your hands unable to stay still, reaching for his neck, nails digging into the porcelain skin, he almost Monas into the kiss, his hands clawing at your bottom, gripping the flesh in an iron grip. You make a small sound that seems to be all he has been waiting for. Leaving your swollen lips, his attack continues in your jaw and neck, leaving small marks. You feel his arrousal pressing against you and your right hand lets go of his throat and slides over the leather in a rhythmic motion. Before you can think how you can take so much, his size is obvious even fully clothed, he grabs the knife from before and cuts open your top, not bothering with the buttons, leaving your chest exposed to him. His mouth travels to your nipples, his tongue dancing around them before his mouth closes on them and his other hands pinch the other hard. You moan, the pain delicious and unexpected, making you arch even more towards him. He unties the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare to him. A drop of your wetness makes its way from your core along your inner thigh as you melt in his arms. His hand wanders deeper along your hipbones and thighs and as he catches the drop his predatory smile becomes a grin. 

„My lady seems to be enjoying herself... Kneel down".

You obey, the hard floor hurting your knees almost immediately. He pulls his swollen cock out of his trousers and strokes the head along your lips. You open your mouth and begin to lick his shaft with broad strokes, sucking the tip in and letting it fall from your mouth with a wet plop. He watches your every move and pushes a lock of hair that has come loose from your braid out of your face.

"Yes, that's a good girl, keep going."

Spurred on by the praise, you redouble your efforts, disregarding the discomfort of kneeling on the pavement and look up at him to find him completely mesmerised. He cannot believe how willingly you give yourself to him, without reservation. He feels as if he has found something sacred, something so precious and wild that he cannot imagine ever getting enough of it. He steadies your neck and finds his own rhythm, fucking your throat hard, the gurgling sound coming from you like music to his ears, you are struggling for air but he is relentless, filling you with his cum until you swallow every last drop. Your eyes almost in tears, you try to catch your breath, but Feyd has other plans as he helps you to your feet and lays you down on the patch of fresh earth. He spreads your legs and caresses your core. The pain seems to dissolve into a sea of pleasure, leaving you disoriented and greedy, your hands pressing the back of his head into your cunt. He moans in approval, sending more delicious vibrations through your cleat and as his tongue fins you entrance, you lose yourself in the orgasm, chanting his name with more earnestness than any prayer that was ever to leave your lips. 

He looks up at you and just when you think you are going to get a break from his ministrations, he pauses only to strip, his leather overalls falling to the floor and revealing his muscles. He grasps your hips and you spread your legs even wider, giving him an unobstructed view of you and your pulsating cunt.

"So ready to take me, my lady, so ready for my cock to fill you," he smiles, aligning himself with your entrance and thrusting in at once. His cock, thick and throbbing, disappears inside you as you continue to chant his name. He rams into you with abandon, his head touching your wall as his hands wander from your hips to your breasts, kneading them, whipping you into the frenzy of the second high, spasming even harder around his cock. 

"I think you can come again for me, my Na Baroness," he whispers in your ear as he lowers himself over you, one hand loving your breasts to study himself on the floor, the fingers of the other circling your clit. You moan, overstimulated and hot, writhing under his touch.

"I know you can do it," he continues, not slowing down, and he is right as you cum again, this time sending him over the edge, his movements becoming ragged as his seed fills you. As your both breathing calms, you look into his eyes again and you know he is a goner, lost to the magic of your touch and how your desires dance together.

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part 1

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none for this chapter. Masterlist of warnings overarching the series

A/N: Hello! If you’re here then there’s probably something wrong with you too, so let’s be friends. I haven’t been able to write anything lately until I saw the latest Dune movie and then all of my thoughts became dedicated to Feyd-Rautha. I must get these thoughts out. Help. Me.

“Chin up.”

Your mother brushes your hair back, bronze, like hers, and lifts your chin. Her gaze is critical. You stare back, thinking only of the things that she will find fault in you. An endless amount, you muse. The slightest flicker of expression on Lady Jessica’s face informs you that she suspects what you’re thinking. Your teeth grit.

“Must you do that?” You hiss through your painted lips. The servants have dressed you specially for the occasion. A floor-length black dress and, settled on your shoulders, a red cape clasped together with the House of Atreides insignia.

Jessica withdraws her hand. Your mother radiates femininity and power, a feat you’ve yet reached. Even the cool way in which she regards you drips with regality.

“Do what?” She asks, feigning innocence.

“Don’t make me say it.”

Jessica’s blue eyes harden. “You don’t have to, daughter. It’s plain enough.”

Mother and daughter stare at one another.

She tried to teach you the ways of the Bene Gesserits, but you failed to take to it. You were too expressive, too…volatile. You struggled to detect the slightest change in voice, you could never sit still long enough to study, and your facial features always betrayed you. The only aspect you succeeded in was combat — there was no need to mask your feelings, your thoughts, able to just completely lend yourself to the blade.

But it wasn’t enough.

“You’re fortunate the Reverend Mother has chosen to see through with this arrangement,” Jessica all but snarls. “There’s hope for you still, in form of an heir.”

The Kwisatz Haderach.

The only reason your mother still spoke to you, affords you any attention at all. The fact that you’ve been painstakingly bred to produce him: a Bene Gesserit of male origin, capable of accessing the memories of his ancestors and see through time and space itself.

A terrible mantle for an unborn child.

In the black of night, you sometimes lay your hand on your abdomen and utter apologies to the egg nestled in your ovary; burdened with horrible purpose. If only you could avoid its fate. But you were not even in control of your own.

“I want to stay here,” you plea finally, pitifully.

Jessica steps away from you, brushes off her skirt. “You know that you cannot.”

“I can help Father,” you insist. “You know that he worries about gaining the approval of the Fremen. I can —”

“Enough!” The Voice. It snaps your mouth shut and renders you mute. “This is bigger than both of us.” Jessica snatches your upper arm, pulls you close enough to feel the heat of her anger. “Your father wanted a son. A heir. But it was my duty to produce a daughter. I ignored the pleas of your father because I understand what it is to serve. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

You swallow your disgust, though it lingers like a foul taste on your tongue.

This isn’t the first time that your mother has told you this. Nor did you think it would be the last.

Perhaps making a home among your enemies would be better than staying here among family.

“Fine,” you say. You wrench your arm from her grasp then turn away. It’s futile, you know the heighliner will be here soon to whisk you away, but you can’t stand to be in the presence of your mother any longer. Fortunately she lets you go.

You’re not even aware of where your feet are taking you until the familiar sound of the baliset meets your ears. Gurney rests lazily on the ground in the massive corridor, back against the wall and string instrument in his scarred hands. He doesn’t look at you as you approach nor when you collapse down beside him.

Usually Gurney’s situationally appropriate songs bring you a modicum of comfort, but today it seems more ominous than insightful.

“I won’t miss your singing,” you say.

He stops playing. “You jest.”

Playfully, you crack open one eye and peer at his baffled expression. You try not to laugh. “I don’t.” A sigh escapes your mouth then, and you slump further down, uncaring if you rumple your gown. “I will, however, miss the singer.”

“Don’t bother appealing to an old man like me. It won’t get you anywhere.”

“Hm,” is all you say, lost in thought.

Gurney sets the baliset to the side. His hand finds your knee and he squeezes. “You will be fine, Lady Y/N. I’ve taught you well.”

“Not even what you’ve taught me will suffice for what I’m up against.”

“Nonsense.”

Both eyes open now, you stare pleadingly at the swordsmaster. “Just come with me. Please.”

It’s Gurney’s turn to sigh. With a groan he heaves himself to his feet and offers you a hand. “You know that I can’t,” he murmurs.

His loyalty to your father doesn’t extend to you.

He is Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis, after all. And you are just his daughter. A pawn. A womb and nothing more.

You reach out to ghost your fingers over the scar on Gurney’s cheek. “Tell me about them.”

The Harkonnens.

“There’s nothing you don’t already know or haven’t learned from the filmbooks,” Gurney says to you in a terribly soft voice. It’s unfitting of the great soldier. “They are a cruel people. Do not trust them.”

You nod, irrationally devastated that your final plea to Gurney did not work. But his words were not anything new.

Nothing you learned about the Harkonnens has been pleasant — from their oppressive rule and misogynistic society down to their industrialized homeworld. Your chest aches.

First you were forced to leave the lush beauty of Caladan for Arrakis. You had even grown admittedly fond of the desert planet, just to yet again be snatched from another home.

“Thank you, Gurney. For everything.”

He dips his chin in acknowledgment, then holds out his arm for you to take.

Gurney has been like a second father to you over the years. While Leto was out securing political alliances and holding meetings, it was Gurney who kept you company. He aided in your combat training and believed in you when no one else did. To lose him would be to lose a great friend, indeed.

By the time you return to the antechamber where you’d been, Leto has arrived. He looks as cunning and handsome as ever, and the smile he flashes you is enough to cut you to the bone.

If what Jessica said was true about your father wanting a son and being sorrowful he did not get one, you would never know. He has only ever made you feel loved.

“My beautiful daughter,” he greets you. He smells wonderful. The same way he did all of those years ago when he would tell you stories of your grandfather and tuck you into bed, his beard tickling your cheek.

You breathe him in for one of the last times. “Hello, father.”

“You look marvelous,” he says. His smile falters slightly. “Are you ready? I wanted to ensure that you’ve said your goodbyes before we leave.”

Bitterly, you think, Before I leave. Everyone else will return to Arrakis and you will be moored on Giedi Prime, married to a bloodthirsty monster and forced to grow round with his child.

The thought makes your knees tremble.

The Harkonnens controlled the fiefdom of Arrakis before your family and were unbelievably outraged that it, and the flow of spice, had been stolen from them. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what your reception on their planet will be like. It’s any luck if you don’t get slaughtered upon arrival.

Especially since the Baron’s nephew, the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha — your betrothed — was known for his brutal nature. You hoped stupidly that the arrangement of marriage and promise of an heir would be enough to keep you alive.

At least for awhile.

Feyd-Rautha killed his own mother. Who knew what the status of wife meant to him?

“I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer Leto. He squeezes your hand.

You hug Gurney goodbye then board onto the heighliner after your parents. It’s difficult to suppress the tears threatening to fall as the ship takes off in a flurry of sand and departs.

Normally you’d be completely enraptured with the endless golden dunes, but today you stay rooted to your seat and refrain from crying.

The flight to Giedi Prime happens much too quickly for your liking. Already your heart is in your throat, hammering out your nerves in a steady rhythm.

The view from your seat reveals the strange nature of your new home — a black sun. Never again will you see the stretch of blue sky from Caladan or feel the formidable heat of Arrakis. The entire world outside the ship stood in sharp black and white contrast, all color drained from the surroundings and its people.

You spy hoards of Harkonnens gathering beyond the ship, awaiting the arrival of the na-Baron’s wife and their future Baroness.

Your stomach churns. How could you ever lead such ugly, wicked people?

Jessica’s voice engulfs you. “Chin up,” she says again to your dismay. “You mustn’t show any weakness. Not here.”

You raise your chin the slightest amount. Jessica nods stiffly in approval, and it’s in that moment you understand that your mother’s harshness has been preparing you for this. While you hardly feel the urge to forgive her, an odd sense of calm washes over you.

You are an Atreides. And you always will be.

No one can take that from you.

The boarding ramp disengages and you’re the first one to step onto it. A hush of silence befalls the crowds.

You stride forward with as much confidence as you can muster, focusing not on the leering eyes of the Harkonnens but instead on the Baron’s fortress. A large pathway separates you from it, granting you plenty of time to get your fill. It’s as grand as it is excessively boastful; tall, pointed towers cleverly connected, all sharp lines and edges. It leaves the impression of a finely crafted dagger.

A display of power and wealth.

Behind you your parents emerge and the carefully observant crowd launches into disarray — shouts and yells of anger, of hatred, grate your ears. You know that they take it in stride, however, and their strength fortifies your own.

By the time you’ve crossed the distance from the heighliner to the inner walls of the fortress, your eyes are blurried by the strong contrast outside now given away to darkness. It takes a few moments for you to adjust. When you do, you quickly look over your surroundings.

There’s few decorations or art. It’s cold and impersonal and extremely clinical.

Your slippered feet reverberate off the high ceilings.

Bracing yourself, seemingly, has been for no reason. For it’s not the Baron and his nephew that meet you but rather a line of Harkonnen soldiers. Their faces are stoic.

You bristle. “Where is the Baron? And my betrothed? Do they not wish to receive us?”

The soldiers do not answer.

A man appears then from down the hall, a Mentat by the look of him. He’s pale and bald and clad in black like the other Harkonnens.

“My apologies, Lady Y/N,” the Mentat says. “My name is Piter de Vries. I am here to escort you. The Baron and na-Baron will receive you now in the throne room.”

Leto lays a hand on your arm as if to stifle your response. “Please, Piter, lead the way.”

You can’t help but glance curiously at your father. This entire situation was delicate, you knew, but you wonder at his subservience. It’s an insult not to be immediately greeted by their hosts, especially when your guests happen to be the Duke of Arrakis, his concubine, and their daughter. If Leto agrees with this affront, though, he doesn’t show it.

Leto simply strides after Piter with you and your mother in pursuit.

The fortress boasts sleek walls and floors, polished to perfection. Piter guides you to the throne room a short distance away, the sight of it stealing the breath from your lungs. It’s larger than any room you’ve seen before, outfitted on the far side with steps leading up to a grand dais.

And upon the dais, demanding your attention, is Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. The man is as large as the throne room itself but not nearly as impressive, pale and beastly, his enormous weight supported by suspenders. He makes no movement as you enter.

Your gaze moves quickly, eagerly, away from him.

Standing on either side of the dais are his two nephews. Aware that you can’t stand to face your betrothed yet, you fix your attention on his brother. Rabban, you recall his name.

Rabban is bound with hard muscle and swathed in what you can only describe as thinly veiled anger. At his side, his fists clench and unclench restlessly.

Then, without permission, you look to your future husband.

Feyd-Rautha stands as tall as Rabban but roped instead with lean, attractive muscle. His brow sits above dark eyes and a generous mouth. There’s a frightening intensity to the way he stands, encapsulating both nonchalance and a dangerous arrogance. Clearly this man is used to getting his way and will stop at nothing to do so.

And it’s this man that makes no effort to disguise the way he studies you, starting at the top of your head and trickling languidly downward.

A chill dances down your spine.

When he catches this, catches you watching him — he must’ve known that you were — his lips twitch into the faintest of smirks.

Part 2

[cauliflowercounty]

Knives Dance (Part I)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

After years of writing *literally nothing,* I never expected bald Austin Butler to inspire me again :)

Life does wonderful things sometimes.  Feyd Rautha is a fucking snack. And whoops it looks like I invented a planet and a culture :/

Summary: You're the daughter of the Duke of the House of Ronen, and your father and Vladimir Harkonnen have arranged a marriage between you and Feyd-Rautha to join your two houses.  When the House of Harkonnen pays a visit to your planet, Feyd discovers something unforeseen within himself during an assassination attempt…

Reader: she/her pronouns 

Warnings: innuendo/suggestive content, attempted assassination, blood, violence, multiple murders

Word Count: 4.2k

Part I | Part II | Part III

--

The hydraulics whirr as the black metal ramp of the Harkonnen vessel opens downward onto the stone landing pad on planet Youra and hits the ground with a low thunk. Feyd follows his uncle as he floats out of the vessel toward the doors of the Youran citadel, which is nestled in the center of a towering mountain covered in dense forest. Through the canopy, he sees the flickering lights from within the treehouses that adorn the forest cover. 

The fortress itself is bathed in a warm, yellow glow from the round floating lanterns that surround it.  As they hover, they seem to spiral upwards in a concentric spiral and extend their reach up into the night sky. A line of Youran soldiers flank the walkway, dressed in ceremonial garb of earthy, brown leathers with teal accents and intricate geometric patterns.  As the Harkonnens pass, the soldiers bow their heads to them, allowing the carved silver helmets to shine in the evening light. 

The environment here could not be further from that of Giedi Prime with its cold, industrial landscape devoid of color and the stench of sulfur and gas.  The jungle air here is saccharine and floral on Feyd’s tongue.  He feels the brush of the evening breeze flowing past him out toward the sea from the surrounding jungle. As he breathes in, he notices the richness of the air, imbued with the essence of all the flora that have made Youra a treasure trove for natural resources and experimental medicines, reminding him why he and his uncle have arrived on this planet.

The endeavor to secure spice on Arrakis had not gone as smoothly as the Harkonnens had hoped, especially with constant Fremen attacks sabotaging their forces and Rabban’s pitiful attempt at countermeasures. The current state of their operation and the number of soldiers they were losing daily called for acquiring a new tactical advantage.  As much as they hated to admit it, they would have been foolish not to seek one out. 

The advantage lay on Youra, the planet of island rainforests and the home of the minor House of Ronen, where an uncountable number of plant and animal species flourished, supplying the population with life-saving natural compounds the renowned scientists had been extracting from nature and developing for centuries.  Through this arranged marriage, the wealth of chemical knowledge and access to the raw materials would become House Harkonnen’s. Feyd could begin to taste his ascension to power. This was simply the next step necessary to turn the tides of this conflict on Arrakis, which would inevitably end in him assuming the title of Baron if not Emperor. 

With a low rumble, the double doors in front of Feyd open to reveal your father and yourself.  Laying eyes on you for the first time, Feyd stops in place, his heavy black boots almost stuck on the ground.  When the conversation of an arranged marriage came up with his uncle, he was beyond apathetic, knowing that this would be a political move in which he had no obligation to have any investment. The woman would become his wife only by title.  To his astonishment, he is entranced by your beauty, to the point of speechlessness. He almost completely ignores your father’s greeting and speech about the union of your two houses. You are radiant with your skin that glows in the light, unlike that of the Harkonnen women he is used to seeing. You look into his eyes, and he feels almost locked in, the rest of the world fading until all he sees is you. 

“Welcome to our home, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you say to him, not breaking eye contact from underneath your headdress. Your striking eyes bore deep into his soul. It’s almost as if they’re calling to him.  What’s most interesting to Feyd is that they don’t seem to contain a hint of fear or apprehension. He is used to making those around him crumple under the weight of their own terror with his mere presence so he can exploit those emotions and manipulate them as his own personal playthings.  In defiance of his reputation, you seem undeterred by him staring straight at you. As your eyes glimmer in the lamplight, he feels his breath almost catch as they taunt him, draw him. Snapping himself out of the trance, a smirk forms on his lips, remembering how his uncle taught him to behave. He forces himself to relish the thought of toying with your apparent resolve. 

As he looks down, he eyes your lavish, floor-length regalia. The same deep brown and teal that your father and the soldiers wear decorates the patterns on your cloak. He notices lines of gold thread woven into your hair, an appropriate show of the natural resources of your planet. 

Strange, he thinks. The cloak is rather large and heavy. Despite matching the designs of the other Youran garb, it seems out of place to be a traditional outfit for the aristocracy of a rainforest civilization where the warm and humid conditions should prove inhospitable for cloaks of this nature. 

The delicate, meek flower he was expecting to relish picking apart with ease you are not. He’s figured out you're a woman with something you’re intent on hiding from him.  You’ve put on this front either bravely or stupidly, and Feyd-Rautha will peel back every layer one calculated move at a time until you are finally entirely his.  

He steps forward and reaches down to take your hand in his. “My betrothed…” he whispers to you, his voice low and gravelly. “We finally meet, Little One. I must say you look exquisite. I expected nothing less.” He brings your fingers up to his lips and brushes his lips across them before pressing firm a kiss on the back of your hand  His uncle seems most disgusted by Feyd’s tenderness, but Feyd keeps his gaze on you through hooded eyes, knowing that the first move in any game is imperative to the success of his endeavor.  He sees yours flicker for a moment as your body tenses listening to his praise. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

–

Dinner is filled with monotonous diplomacy, tiresome pleasantries, and planning of the wedding to take place on Giedi Prime, but Feyd hasn’t let his attention break from you. It’s as if the kiss he planted on your hand was the catalyst for the first crack in the wall you’ve put up, and now he’s waiting for the perfect moment to make his next move.

All of dinner he’s watched as you attentively listened to his uncle and your father exchange words and eat your dinner. He hasn’t failed to notice how your eyes dart over to look at him through your lashes. With every gesture you make and every word you say, he feels unequivocally enraptured. As much as he’s tried to suppress his emotions and stay faithful to his uncle’s teachings, grounded in violence and viciousness, his mind starts to wander.

He wonders what must it be like to have your touch flutter across his chest when he watches you delicately grasp your water goblet.  When you fold your lips around your cup to drink, he imagines what they must feel like on his skin if you were to drag them down his neck tantalizingly slow. What if you were close enough to him to have your breath fan out across his skin as your lips caressed his? What must it be like to hold your softness in his hands? The very idea makes his breath hitch. 

Of the many thoughts he has as he watches you, many of them becoming increasingly lewd as dinner continues, one remains in his head: if he is this captured by just your face and gaze, basking in the light of what you’re concealing under your cloak, must be heaven adjacent. 

His desire to use you and leverage your own will against you is being chipped away little by little. Feyd’s hardened persona that his uncle helped construct is withering with every second he spends in your presence. The notion is nearly frightening to Feyd, but with every single glance and gesture, his heart, which may have turned to stone long ago, is beginning to accept it.  

Feyd rips his attention away from you as your father stands to thank the Harkonnens once again for coming. “I shall have my servants show you where you shall be staying,” your father announces as he rises from his seat. “I have arranged for our head researchers to show you what progress we have had in our synthetic undertakings as of late. I guarantee you will be very interested in what they have to offer.” 

As you stand, he notices how your hands pull together the front seam of your cloak, preventing it from opening. Curious.

You bid him goodnight and turn away to head to your quarters as a Youran servant beckons him to the guest wing.  That night, Feyd cannot rest as he lays awake in bed in the opulent guest suite, images of you running through his head, and he almost smiles thinking about when you say his name so sweetly.

 “Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.”

–

The next day, Feyd sees little of you.  In the morning, he makes his way to your quarters only to be informed by a servant at your door that you have already departed for the day.  When he asks where you have gone, the servant provides a murky response about your duties as Lady of the House and wedding preparations, which he as her betrothed would “surely understand.” Just as he decides he will find you himself, he is seized by his uncle as to meet the Youran ministers of culture, science, and development to learn about their acquisition.

Feyd cannot deny that your homeworld is impressive.  It’s steeped in centuries of exploration and inquiry with unmatched record-keeping of not only science but tradition, too. The ceilings are vaulted and adorned with gold. The walls of the citadel are covered in elaborate murals painted on with vibrant colors or carved into the surfaces. Some depict traditional folktales, gods, and ceremonies while those opposite them describe the evolutionary lines of species, a true testament to Youra’s modernity and dedication to preserving your peoples’ history in living memory.  If only he knew which mural decorates the wall concealing you. 

As the picture of your world’s history becomes clearer, the air of mystery surrounding you only grows. Not once has he heard talk of you after his interaction with that servant, but throughout the day he has sensed hushed whispers that are almost certainly about him instead. As he passes soldiers, some of them almost seem to leer at his presence.

 A few times, he thinks he can almost see the hem of your cape disappear around corners, but when he goes to investigate, there is nobody there.  The anger he expected to have inside him due to your avoidance is nowhere to be seen, and only a burning intrigue remains. 

“What a little enigma my wife is,” he thinks to himself when he enters the banquet hall for dinner as the last ray of sunlight fades from the windows as the sun dips below the horizon. 

Almost on cue, the doors to the hall open again and to his gratification, it is you.  He stands up from his seat and walks over to you. He cannot deny his own inclination when you smile at him softly, putting him at ease.  

“Good evening, Na-Baron,” you greet as he stops in front of you. Your dulcet tones go straight to his heart, causing it to skip a beat. “I hope I’ve not kept you waiting long.”

“Not at all.”  He takes your hands in his once again, running his thumb along the back of them and savoring the feeling of your soft skin. This time when his heart swells, he lets it happen, surrendering himself to your charm. “I would wait an eternity for you,” he says, realizing you enjoy it when he romances you.  

“You don’t strike me as a man who likes to be kept waiting,” you reply, looking up into his eyes. “I am surprised you are not frustrated with me.”

“I make exceptions,” he replies, noticing how your lips curl into a small smile. “… for when it truly matters.  Since you’ve been absent all day, tell me, Little One, what have you been doing while you were hiding from me all day?”

You let out a gentle exhale. “I assumed you might be curious about that,” you say to him, as you clasp his hands in yours, beginning to tug him backwards to the doors.  “Would you join me outside before we eat, Na-Baron?  I have something I want to show you that I’ve been working on in preparation for our marriage.”  

Allowing you to lead him, he follows you as you pull him through the halls of the fortress.  He senses the answers to the questions he’s been asking himself are within his grasp.  You both head outdoors and descend a grand staircase toward a courtyard nestled in the center of the fortress that overlooks the ocean that is now a murky midnight blue. 

The nighttime lanterns light the way once again, and you both continue into the courtyard which is unlike anything he’s ever seen before. The ground seems to be a single sheet of rust colored stone that is marbled with shards shimmery metals.  The slab has massive circles cut into it spaced in a perfect grid.  Inside the circle is a golden pool of luminescent water.  Tall, half moon shaped walls cradle each pool with glyphs and carvings etched into them. 

“What is this place?” he asks you, basking in the light emanating from all of the pools that surround the both of you as you continue down the center aisle.

“This is my favorite place in the castle,” you explain.  “It’s where we keep one of every species our researchers are currently studying. The rock wall above the pools describes each evolutionary line and the discoveries about it we’ve made. There’s one I want to show you if you would allow me.”

He nods as you bring him to a pool whose accompanying slab remains blank. Looking down into the water, he spots a single indigo fish with long, delicate fins that trail behind it in the water. He watches as it circles the pool. It slows and shudders momentarily. A single incandescent scale breaks off and floats to the bottom of the pool. You kneel to gather the scale from the bottom, holding it so that he can see how the light flickers off its surface.

“Does it intrigue you?” he hears you ask, and he nods in return as something he thought he lost long ago begins to emerge inside of him: his sense of wonder.

“I have never seen such a creature. Would you tell me about it?”

 “It would be my pleasure,” you grin. “This fish was discovered on an archipelago on the other side of the planet. I’ve been studying this fish with our most expert researchers. The pools it lives in almost disappear during the dry season, but we’ve found that they survive to the wet season because of their scales somehow.  My father doesn’t know any of this. He still thinks we know nothing of this creature.”

“It’s marvelous,” he whispers to you, eyeing the small bubbles floating to the top of the water from the fish’s gills. 

“I wanted to show you this fish because this is at the heart of our culture on Youra.  Our people are on a constant mission to learn and discover, so we can help and care for those we hold dearest.  With our marriage, the House of Harkonnen will be a part of that endeavor. I’m showing you this fish because when the fish shed their scales at the beginning of the wet season, they contain a high concentration of a novel compound that allows living things to retain water.”

He sees you fidget with your own hands as you explain. You’re nervous, he realizes. 

“We have been able to extract it from the scales they drop,” you say with a slight waiver in your voice. Here you are bearing your hard work and dedication, your soul to him. Your vulnerability is evident.  Before you were so confident with your gaze and now your eyes never stay on him for more than a fraction of a moment. If you were anyone else, he would have taken full advantage the opportunity to leverage your weakness, but he cannot bring himself to do so.  “This knowledge is my gift to you na-Baron. I have been aware of your endeavors on Arrakis. I realize you may not be as invested in this arrangement as we are, but I wanted to give you this to mark the beginning of what is to come… I don’t expect you to do anything in return. Only wanted to communicate my intentions.”

His heart quivers as his mind darts back to the countless times his uncle has “gifted” things to him as rewards for doing his bidding.  The concubines, armor, and weapons all fall to the wayside; now they’re all tainted in Feyd's mind by his uncle's conniving ways.  They were never gifts in earnest, always being transactional or part of another of his uncle’s Machiavellian schemes. Never in his life had he been given something so thoughtful, something intended to truly protect him. The previous notions he had before of possessing you are bitter on his tongue. Now, he could never and the shame he feels for maybe the first time in years begins to burn into his psyche. 

“Na-Baron,” you plead, bringing him out of his own thoughts.  “Say something, please.”

“Thank you,” he finally says, taking your hands in his and giving them a squeeze. “I am grateful for your generosity, my little flower.”

Your eyes well up with tears and you let out a relieved sigh before your emotions bubble out of you.  “You cannot fathom how happy I am to hear you say those words,” you say, bringing your hands to his again. “I was so worried about showing you this!”

Right when he opens his mouth to respond, his instincts as a warrior kick in as he hears the soft whistle of something flying through the air towards the both of you. In a flash, he’s grabbed you by your shoulder to force you to your knees as you let out a bewildered yelp.  The sound lights his veins on fire and fills him with rage.

Against the blank stone slab of the fish’s pool he sees it: a green splatter of a sinister substance that drips down the stone in long tendrils. Below, the shattered remains of a poisoned dart sinking into the water.  You’ve seen it, too. He swivels himself around in the direction the arrow came from. A hooded figure is emerging from behind another one of the stone walls, a serrated dagger in hand, poised to strike you down.  Feyd reprimands himself for leaving his weapons behind in his room in the name of diplomacy, but he’s prepared to fight empty handed to protect you and punish your assailant.

Before he realizes, you’ve shed your cloak, allowing it to drop to the floor behind you and Feyd can finally see what you’ve been hiding. You’re wearing a sage green dress with a bodice plated in iron that’s been secured to in place with intricate leather straps and golden loops that wrap deliciously around your figure. The symmetric slits in your dress that extend almost to your hips reveal your garters where two silver daggers that curve into formidable hooks are secured to your outer thighs.

As soon as he realizes you’re armed, you’ve already grasped the leather wrapped handles of your weapons and drawn them from your thighs with a flourish, launching yourself at your attacker. The ground reverberates with your power, and your blades ring out as they clash with your opponent’s. The man grunts upon impact and with a vigorous push, you knock his weapon upwards and away from you as you swipe at his face with the other hand. When he stumbles backwards, his face covering is swept to the side. 

“Ozran!” you growl as the man regains his composure. “What is the meaning of this? Traitor!”

“I could say the same for you, Lady Ronen, revealing our secrets to that Harkonnen!” Ozran snarls at you, his eyes wild as he begins swiping sloppily at your head, which you dodge with ease. Feyd knows the man is getting desperate. Ozran is quickly realizing running away would have been the best option after his poisoned arrow missed.

Ozran attempts to shake off his regret by hurling himself at you, trying to recover the situation now that he’s committed to one-on-one combat with you. “I will not stand by and have the rewards of our peoples’ work reaped by them.  Without a daughter to marry off, our intelligence will remain ours, and I will protect it to the end, even if that means killing you.”

Feyd hears you tisk at his pitiful attempt at your life as your heel makes contact with his nose.  Blood gushes from his nostrils and drips down his chin in thick droplets.  He staggers back and loses his footing as you drive your blades into him, your footsteps smearing his blood on the floor as you move.  Ozran’s hope drains from his eyes, and he coughs as you pull your knives back, his blood spilling onto the stone floor from the gaping hole in his body. He drops his weapon and it clatters on the ground beside him.

“Too bad you couldn’t get close enough to actually do any damage,” you say sweetly to him as he wheezes. “You were never a man worthy of battle. I’m surprised you even worked up the courage to merely attempt to kill me.”

“D-don’t worry, dear Lady,” he sneers as his knees hit the floor.  “There are more of us who don’t appreciate our leaders betraying our ideals. They will avenge me, and you will join me in death.”  With that, his body crumples in the pool of his own blood. Drawing his last breath, Feyd sees Ozran’s consciousness fade.  From the shadows and behind the other stone walls, he senses more figures lurking.

“Na-Baron!” you call, as you throw Feyd your second knife, which he catches with a flick of his wrist as you pick up Ozran’s weapon.  Your dagger is robust and extraordinarily crafted, truly a weapon worthy of your status Feyd thinks. With that, he joins you in battle when Ozran’s allies pounce, eager to avenge their fallen comrade. One by one, he cuts the treasonous soldiers down with you by his side, slashing their throats, stabbing them in their backs, hearing their bones break, and tendons tear.  It’s exhilarating, fighting not just for you, but with you in perfect synchronization.  

When the last one falls, their mangled bodies are piled around you.  He looks at you with complete admiration in his eyes.  Without a second thought, he pulls you close with desperation. Cradling your face in his free hand, he kisses you roughly and swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, tasting the familiar tang of iron. As you kiss him back with a fervor that makes his senses sing, he uses his other arm to pull you close, if he’s worried that you will join the souls of the dead around you and leave this world, something he can’t bear to think of now.   

Reluctantly, you both break away from the kiss, resting your foreheads against one another.  Your breaths are thick and heaving.  You look down at his dominant hand, which still holds your second dagger.

“Are you going to kill me now, Na-Baron?” you ask as you look up at him, and he instinctively throws the knife away, letting it clatter on the floor. He shakes his head.

“I never anticipated my betrothed to have such prowess in battle,” he whispers lowly, returning his hand to your body.  He drags his fingers across the places where the straps of your dress make indentations in your skin, making you shiver at his touch. His grip on your waist tightens when he palms your supple skin. You hum a sigh of satisfaction that is almost music to Feyd’s ears, and he could listen to it all day.  “Watching you cut down each of them… What a lovely surprise it was… You are truly an unexpected paragon, my dear.”

“Unexpected…” you chuckle, blushing at his flattery. “May I ask another question of you?”

“Of course,” he replies, peering down at you with an ardent stare.

“Before coming here, were you aware there are many dangerous things in the rainforest, Na-Baron?” He nods. “Then why would you assume I am not one of them?”

“Clever girl,” he grins, pressing another kiss on your forehead. 

“From now on, my blades will fight for you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“And mine for you, my love,” he replies as he dips his lips back down to yours.  What a fool he was before, anticipating so little from his future wife. Now he knows better.  He realizes who you really are, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough.

--

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Knives Dance Part II OUT NOW!

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[thegettingbyp2]

maybe something like feyd x fremen reader.

Maybe she captured him he is just like strong women marry me.

Impressive

A/N: So I have changed the request slightly simply so it was a bit easier for me to write but I have kept the strong woman, I hope that's okay!

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You could feel the blood dripping down your face from the cut just above your eye and your hands instinctively moved to try to wipe it away, only to be snagged by the cuffs that were keeping them behind your back. You had been a part of Paul’s plan to defeat the Harkonnens and it was your job to plant a trap for them. You’d almost managed it until one of the soldiers found you, overpowering your quickly and calling for the Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.

You’d heard many things about Feyd-Rautha, heard about the way he would fight in the arena and how skilled he was with a knife. His reputation made fear fill your body at the idea of coming face to face with him but you were determined to stay strong and not let him see that fear.

When he walked into the room where they had been holding you, you were surprised to find yourself attracted to him with his broad shoulders and ridiculously pretty eyes and you felt yourself shake yourself out of it before you let him see any weakness in you. You were so preoccupied in your own thoughts, you failed to notice his eyes light up slightly when he looked at you.

‘Leave us,’ Feyd commanded in a strangely seductive voice, not once taking his eyes off of you. As soon as the door closed and it was just you and Feyd in the room, he stepped closer, tilting his head as he looked at you. ‘When they told me that a Fremen had made it through our defences, I can’t lie, I was expecting a man.’

‘Sorry to disappoint,’ you replied sarcastically, causing Feyd to raise his brow at you.

‘I didn’t say I was disappointed,’ Feyd replied, pretty much cutting you off, a smirk beginning to play on his lips. ‘Tell me,’ he said, crouching down in front of you and running a finger down your cheek, making you shiver violently, ‘why are you following Paul Atredies?’

‘He’s the chosen one,’ you replied simply, meeting his gaze and refusing to be the first one to look away. Feyd seemed to like your attitude as he smiled at you, showing you a glimpse of his black teeth. You knew that you shouldn’t find him attractive, but there was something about him that drew you in. However, all for the strong front you’d been putting on in front of him, you couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping your lips when, in a flash, you felt the sharp edge of a knife pressing against your throat, but still, you refused to look away.

Feyd made a sound of approval in the back of his throat, keeping the blade against your skin as he leaned in further, completely invading your space as he looked at you. ‘You’re impressive,’ he said, sounding amused, ‘most Fremen I encounter end up begging me to spare their life but I have a feeling you’re not the type of person to do that, are you?’

‘Why would I do that when you’ll just kill me anyway? You might as well just get on with it.’

‘I’m not going to kill you,’ he replied, much to your surprise, ‘I think I’d rather keep you around a bit longer.’

‘Then do you mind taking the knife away from my neck?’ The bluntness of your tone had a laugh escaping Feyd’s lips and you struggled to hide the surprised expression on your face. Feyd slowly lowered the blade before discarding it on the floor and pulling you to your feet, keeping his hands on your arms to keep you balanced before one of his hands slid up to cup your face, his thumb brushing your bottom lip gently.

‘Pretty and strong-willed,’ Feyd mused, tugging on your bottom lip slightly as he looked at you. ‘You’ll make the perfect Na-Baroness.’

[afewfantasies]

🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️ - VIII - MONSTERS & MUSES

MASTERLIST

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.6K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Separated by a twist of fate, Feyd-Rautha searches for his betrothed across the wide expanses of Arrakis. He uses his cunning and brutality to inspire cooperation and to track his lady. While in the desert familiar characters Paul Atreides and Chani make an appearance.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: NSFW, minors do not engage, sexually explicit content and violence.

______

VIII - Monsters & Muses

Grinning Feyd tilts his head looking at the man before him.

It's no laughing matter.

His smile is deceptive in nature

Like any predator, a visible smirk

The showing of teeth means danger.

Rotating his wrists Feyd feels the weight of his blades as blood drips around him. Most high lords had people for torture or executions but Feyd-Rautha never strayed from seeing what the men who tried him were made of. Down to the sinew. There was an intimacy to using his blades and a ferocity that couldn’t be undermined by his slightly amused persona. Feyd’s viciousness and vitriol lies in his relentlessness, his patience, his commitment to seeing everything through. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you, no stone he wouldn't turn in the pursuit of your retrieval.

Feyd enjoyed an audience. He hadn't built his reputation on kindness. He needed people to tell of what they'd witnessed. He hoped word would travel fast that the Harkonnen heir flayed two men for their participation in your abduction. Word would travel that he had done it with a smile, without mercy, or hesitation. They would tell tales about his unsightly appearance. Crimson blood against his alabaster complexion, guts all over his clothes. About the other men he’d killed violently before freeing these two of their skin. People would recall how he’d stood up for hours, how he hadn't stopped looking for you, how he hadn't tired of doling out grave punishments. There would be no quick deaths, only long drawn out painful ones. He could hear the whispers declaring him to be someone monstrous. He could see his staff trembling as they brought his refreshments. He could feel the fear dripping from every person around him. He didn't want to feel any kindness if it wasn't from you, there was no warmth or light in his world in your absence and everyone would feel the darkness your absence brings. 

Fear went a far way further than respect, so Feyd used that to his advantage. It’s a vulnerability to be exploited. He has taken note of everything, tracking the men who scurried off like rats. They would fall into his traps or lead him right to you. He noted that the Fremen were more angry than anything else about his decrees but so long as you were gone every man within his control would suffer his same fate. He’d cleared the city of Arrakeen of the women and children, he’d even managed ambushes in several neighbouring cities in the hope of your retrieval but it had been unsuccessful thus far. Instead of executing the most vulnerable, he did far worse by placing them in a harem to give their men hope of getting them back. Then Feyd pointed missiles at the structures filled with the vulnerable. His methods were malevolent but so was your abduction.

His woman and unborn child taken right under his nose. Just several feet away within his palace without commotion or any major resistance. Your abduction has the Baron’s stench all over it. Feyd makes a promise to himself that the Baron’s punishment will be the worst of them all. Leaving the torture chambers he heads to rid himself of the matter and blood. Feyd’s thoughts are on you as he tries to tune into the connection he’d felt that led him to you. He tries to focus on that connection hoping for a miracle. He wants you to be alright, he wants you to feel safe, to know he’s coming, that no further harm will come to you.  There was nothing Feyd-Rautha wouldn’t do for you, he needed you to know that, needs you to know how hard he’s trying, he feels so close and yet so powerless. Looking up at the mirror in front of him Feyd slams a fist breaking the glass out of anger, shattering his reflection. He didn’t want to see himself without seeing you. Blood drips from his knuckles into the sink and Feyd turns on the water to wash it down with him. Staring into the drain he watches the water flow into an abyss, unseen and unheard of again. Shutting the water off he looks at his hands. He’d spent far too much time training to be a killer and far too little being a protector. His exhaustion has been stretched far beyond what is capable for the average man but there had never been anything average about Feyd. Looking at the blood pooling on his knuckles he turns on the water again watching it wash away the blood. Unclenching his fists he wraps a bandage on his hand to stop the bleeding and swelling. He looks at himself in a shard of glass when an idea settles his nerves. In his torture of a holy man he found out the secret to killing sadworms. As sacred fixtures of Fremen culture it would be an ace in his pocket. Without the fear of sandworms the Fremen’s remote hideaways could be easily accessed.

Swallowing hard Feyd nods to himself as the plan's conception grows. A slow smile creeps onto his face, he now had his terms and they would be met. Rushing to his war council Feyd looks at the live maps of the planet settling  on the view of the most fortified Fremen city. The stronghold was undoubtedly where you would be held. Grabbing a pen and parchment he prepares a scroll and then has a Mentat prepare a translation with his terms to be dropped. He would not go begging. He would not jeopardise your safety with perceived weakness but what he will do is exploit the people who would keep you from him by all means. 

——

You squirm trying to worm yourself free of the through restraints binding you to a stone pillar, the heat is relentless and your still suit can’t seem to produce enough water. You’re alone, echoes and the odd person coming to check on you are the only signs of life in your vicinity. It had been a gruelling trek, then you were sitting in a cool room when a battle ensued. Then after it was all said and done you were being passed off from Harkonnen traitors to Fremen soldiers. The Fremen soldiers had done the right thing with their murder of the Harkonnen. Kill or be killed. Instead of killing you the Fremen were gentle, allowing you time to maintain a slower pace and even going underground when the sun peaked, stifling you. Your concept of time is blurred as you sit in this subterranean cavern. The heavy concentration of Spice has your abilities and senses out of whack disabling your abilities' potency around Fremen. The whispers tell you that Feyd is wreaking havoc  but you don’t fully understand the thick accents and complicated dialects being used. 

“Let me go” you demand and a tall man that seems to be in charge turns to face you.

“Not until Usul arrives” he responds.

“You don’t look like a Harkonnen concubine” he muses. “You’re not ugly enough or bald” he mocks. Your abduction had been a coup. Harkonnen men disguised as Fremen. There was only one culprit, the baron who wanted you disposed of along with the Fremen people, what better way to get it done then to have you killed by the Fremen and Feyd end their race in one fell swoop. Then the spice would flow with such abundance House Harkonnen would be uncontested leaders within the imperium and favourites of the emperor.

“We’re being played I want to speak to your leader” you snap squiring more.

“Harkonnen whores are highly trained in seduction, black eyes steal the souls of men. You will make no demands until you see Usul” he says, reciting folklore that couldn't be further than the truth.

“Feyd-Rautha will cause more destruction the longer I’m gone” you warn and his eyes show emotion. His reaction tells you Feyd has already caused considerable damage. You watch as he makes calculations weighing his options.

“We wait for Usul” he concludes.

“Usul had better hurry” you comment and the man pauses looking at you over.

“You’re unarmed, bound and captured but you have no fear - you must be Fremen'' he scoffs. But it’s not the case, you just don't fear them for fear's sake. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant their vengeance aside from your allegiance to Feyd-Rautha. Feyd who makes all of their darkness look light. You hold his blue eyes and before you can conjure the voice the mans smile blurs your vision again causing a sting. “Perhaps not” he mocks, taking off one of his scarves and putting it around your mouth. The gesture is a charity and not an attempt to gag you. Here in the desert, strength honours strength. Swallowing you feel sympathy for what must be done.

“Have you ever known peace? Freedom?” You ask.

“No” he says regretfully.

“If Arrakis were no longer at war what would you be other than a soldier?” You ask and he pauses, unable to conceive that reality. It’s an awful truth and reflection of the horrors of house Harkonnen and the Emperor have caused the people of this planet. How could they subject people to this for generations? How could you be surprised by how the Baron treats his own citizens subjecting many of them to slave like conditions. When you look back to the man his eyes seem different, the effects of the spice take root causing you confusion.

“Your eyes understand hardship” he comments with wisdom despite his youth. “There are whispers that you are kind, generous and gave people water and aid to a mother with her sick child. Why would you be with a Harkonnen?” the man asks. There’s no honest answer, there’s no logical reason for why. Why had your father had chosen Feyd-Rautha above all other eligible sons with status? Why had your mother agreed and encouraged it the union? There was nothing to explain the magnetism and attraction you felt to him. The quiet reassurance that he was yours, the electricity, the child gestating in your womb.

“Reasons beyond reason or logic, matters of the heart and destiny are not easily understood” you admit unable to deny him even in the face of his enemies.

“Then why would his people give you up?” the man asks.

“To be a detriment to yours” you explain and the man sits. You see understanding before you see recognition.

“I know your face” he says looking at you and it echoes into your subconscious. Your vision blurs again and it takes work to focus on the man in front of you. He closes the space between you and cuts your bonds before stepping back. You hear gasps and realize for the first time you're not alone as angry blue eyes emerge from the shadows. You feel unnerved until the man removes his face coverings. The picture of him comes together as a puzzle. A familiar one. Your jaw drops as you make out a ghost from a past life. Overcome with emotion you hug him grateful for the twist of fate.

“You’re alive” you smile standing face to face with Paul Atreides.

“You’re alive” he repeats, hugging you tight. Angry Fremen comments erupt in a flurry as you take in his face, his new height, his eyes, his hair.

“You survived” you smile.

“And you did too. My father looked for you until he was killed. There were rumours but …” Paul says and you swallow hard realizing how deep the conspiracy flows.

“What?” Paul asks and your heart races, you go to walk out but bump into a soldier, the spice is affecting you tremendously. You look up and see the man who’d been caring for you. Paul emerges with a syringe. “It’s an antidote” he says and you withdraw.

“I can’t” you tell him to be cautious of your child. It’s as though Paul senses it as another soldier runs in.

“Chani, take her to guest chambers,” Paul says, receiving scrolls. Looking up at the woman from your visions emerges. She’s tall, striking and angry. Her strides are powerful, she gets bows of respect from everyone you pass. When you arrive in a room she scowls as you sit. She’s skeptical.

“How do you know Usul?” She asks. Her tone speaks volumes to who she is to Paul.

“Paul Atreides?” You ask.

“Usul” she corrects and you swallow because names don’t matter.

“His father the Duke and my mother were childhood friends. I spent countless holidays on Caladan. Paul and I were friends” you explain.

“Now you’re carrying a Harkonnen” she says with a tone laced in judgement. “Your suits reservoirs are low for an outsider the Harkonnen way is excess so there’s no wonder there isn’t much water left. It’s why you’re so susceptible to the spice. Slight dehydration” she explains without kindness, warmth or affinity. “He’s a monster, Feyd-Rautha” she says.

“He is” you acknowledge. “But he’s not your enemy” you speak truthfully. You know better than most that you’re all victims of the machinations of men blinded by their pursuits.

“The things he’s done …” she trails, shaking her head. She’s so angry her body trembles.

“There’s far more at play then we know, isolation will only further the objective of our enemies. I was taken by Harkonnen and it was made to look like I was taken by the Fremen. Feyd will listen to me, he will not do as I say but returning me will put an end to whatever madness he’s conceived as punishment for my abduction.” You explain.

It had been death by a thousand cuts for your assault.

An inconceivable amount of violence that didn’t seem to shock or surprise anyone. The cruelty of Giedi Prime was unmatched. On Arrakis the climate was brutal as is the subjugation of the people by their reigning overlords. However, life among the people is easy and loving. In stark contrast to the Harkonnen planet. While the Rabban had excelled in cruelty, Feyd-Rautha enjoyed breaking down the minds of men, toying with them, bringing them to the brink and then unrelenting slowly making them lose their minds. He had patience he would start slow, he was methodical, precise and deliberate in each act. He was the ideal weapon of choice, and now all his efforts were concentrated on the wrong place.

Looking up you swallow at Chani who turns her back to you in the thick silence. Her hand slowly palms her own stomach. It’s an unconscious gesture in a moment of deep thought. It lasts only a second before she turns back to face you. You recognize the concern in her eyes. The wavering commitment to her cause.

“He has villages worth of women and children in one of the forgotten palaces. Explosives are pointed at them” she snaps. “He’s desecrated our temples and two cities and now he threatens to tell the guild how to kill the sandworms” Chani says. You swallow hard knowing it isn’t the half of what he’s done. You know the sandworts are consecrated entities to the Fremen and close your eyes as you imagine what Feyd had to do to get that information - likely from a priest.

“Have him clear out the women and children from the palace. Paul won’t let you go back to him. The war will rage on and too many innocents will lose.” She says adjusting the still suit. She begins listing off exit instructions and although you're skeptical you feel drawn to her. It’s not until your final goodbyes that you realize what’s happened. You feel it but it’s not quite you. The alarm in her eyes says she feels it too. The feeling is a kin tothe magnetism between you and Feyd. There’s a fierce level of protection you feel for the woman and you see its mutual. Her hand rests over her stomach as she tries to make sense of it. 

Destiny.

You smile at the thought of your child and Pauls finding each other one day. Nodding in her direction the future is promise enough to keep you moving, you follow Chani’s direction hoping against all hope you make it to Feyd.

——

Feyd looks around your room, in your absence and in his rage he had found a way to occupy Leia and his staff. He would not release you, he would not yield to his enemies or the desert. You would return to him. He believed it the same way he had when he searched for you relentlessly. Feys stands looking out into the expanse, the extent of his commitment to your return is all around him. Traitors hang off the city wall and heads line it’s base. It’s unsightly and grotesque and an example of how all life will be until for everyone so long as you are kept from Feyd. Looking at the sun he sighs having waited long enough for word. Every person on Arrakis should be looking for you, the search party should be infinite, you should be in his care. He should be apologizing on his knees. He should be making up for all the love lost. Atoning for his actions, for his shunning, his reaction to your devotion and inability to keep him safe. He needed to feel you in his arms, against his skin, he needed to lay his hand over your stomach. He needed to see your smile, the swell of your breasts, your scent, your touch, the satisfied moans that come from your deep pleasure.

He loves you so much it’s taking everything in him not to crack under the weight of your absence. The humiliation of his failure, his inability to enact your return. It was like Feyd had been castrated and cuckold. No amount of violence could erase that simple fact, no amount of fear he placed in others could remedy what he feels inside. A piece of his heart was alone in the vast desert of Arrakis. In his heart he senses you. Deep down Feyd knows you’re alive but every time he goes to follow the sensations its scrambles ad leaves him disoriented and spinning. He hoped that knowing he was fighting was enough to get you to do the same. To fight for him and your child. Marriage would be his first order of business and then he would not let you out of his sights. People would believe there was an invisible tether keeping the two of you connected. There would be whispers of your witchcraft and strong effects on him.

Heading to his council room he looks at the live map of Arrakis again, there was a line outside the palace with people coming to confess information on your abduction. Feyd’s hand hovers over the missile detonator, the weight of not having you with him mounting. Horrible intrusive thoughts come to him, tempting him to act out of rage prematurely.. Static begins on the iradio, Feyd rotates the dial to tune it. The static continues until Feyd is able to pick up Fremen. Focusing on clarity Feyd tunes it to the very moment he makes out two words in the foreign dialect.

Harkonnen escaped.

It’s all Feyd needs. 

Standing he leaves suiting up. He’d always been a renegade soldier and now would be no different. Soldiers straighten as he enters the room storming through the halls with purpose. Feyd cannot jeopardize your well being when he knows there’s a possibility he hadn’t rooted out all treachery. In the event that his uncle had found a motivator more powerful than fear, he had to be decisive and quick. Feyd-Rautha knows it’s a game of chance, that the stakes are stacked against him. Should you end up in the hands of the Baron, Feyd would become no better than the other slaves on Geidi Prime. It would be the final straw. That could not be his fate or yours. Rabban, the Baron and anyone else who dreamed of separating you from Feyd would die. He would create his own family with you. Putting on his helmet as he the aircraft, Feyd allows his senses to set the coordinates. Arrakis seldom reveals its secrets; there were countless settlements, tunnels and forts that only the Fremen could locate. To foreigners all there is, is sand as far as the eye can see with the dunes shifting hour by hour, day by day. He could not depend on anything external any longer, he would follow the pull in his chest. Quieting his mind Feyd-Rautha feels the magnetism in his chest grow as he charts a course in accordance with it.

“Where is the nearest building?” He asks and a few soldiers pull up a map passing over ruins. Feyd stops at the ruins zooming in. He sees heat signals outlining men. Technology had been outlawed by the imperium, especially certain weaponry but the Harkonnen seldom followed the rules. Programming his pets he tosses redesigned hunter seekers from a hatch. The poison will disable a person in seconds and the weapon is undetectable, no more different in size and appearance than a large beetle. “Drop me here” Feyd says adjusting his gun, he preferred knives but getting close enough for combat with Fremen was unwise. “No one shoots” he warns as his boots hit the ground. Feyd feels you close and doesn't want a shootout to scare you into hiding.

“Yes my lord” his men repeat as he drops. The rubble of the building ruins is littered with disabled Fremen.

“Bring them back to the ship for questioning” he commands storming into the caverns alone.  There’s an odd sense of deja-vu and symmetry to it. Feyd-Rautha alone searching through caverns and rooms looking for you, while you are acutely aware of how close he is but unsure of how or where he will finally appear. The heat is stifling and as much as you want to remove your still suit you know it's keeping you alive, keeping your child hydrated. Pausing, you hear footsteps and move quietly. The footsteps slow as well. You make sure your face is wrapped hoping the dim lighting won’t highlight the absence of Fremen eyes. 

Backing off the path you deviate to hide your heart racing so fast you try to find a weapon in the absence of your own abilities. You try to move quietly but seize when your back hits into a person. Alarms go off in your head as you tense out of fear and regret. Your ears ring, you feel tension in your heart and throat.  Behind you Feyd-Rautha smiles as you walk back into him, your body fitting perfectly against his. Even dressed as a Fremen with no skin showing he knows it’s you and places one arm across you pulling you into him. Your iciness thaws in moments. Turning to face him he rests his head against your forehead in relief. There are no words exchanged as he pulls down the scarves covering your mouth. His lips find yours and you kiss him showing him all the love you can muster. Your regret for rejecting him is deep seeded. You pull him close as he stands there reveling in the relief of your return. He could feel the fight in you, feel how much you wanted him back. Feel your need for him. He’d almost lost you. 

“Come, let’s go home” Feyd says, picking you up bridal style. He knows you’re weary, he doesn’t need to ask, he takes the lead relieving you. As he emerges from the caves his men watch in shock.

“Kill” he says into his watch and the insect assassins do just that to everyone but either of you. He needed you, he needed silence, to let his guard down for there to be no interruptions. No recounts or recollections of the moment. He didn’t need it getting back to the Baron or the Fremen he just needed you. Walking up the plank Feyd sets you down lifting the hatch and going into orbit while shielded. The absence of life on board is eerie, so is the overwhelming feeling of hope you feel now that you’re with Feyd. The relief is overwhelming, if you had tears to spear they would fall but no water spills from your eyes as Feyd cups your face.

“Are you okay, are you hurt?” He asks.

“No” you respond and he takes your hand sitting you down as he pours you a glass of water. You drink it greedily and his eyes are all over you. After days in the desert you grow self conscious.

“Don’t do that” he warns with his soft lips against yours. “You're beautiful, always,” he says gently. His hand covers your stomach and he stands behind you removing the still suit. He bends helping you step out of it and kisses your stomach, you hold him there against you. The feeling is incomparable. The three of you are safe together and at ease.

“Free the Fremen women and children Feyd. Give this moment to them. They did not abduct me” you confess. Feyd looks at you, his eyes brimming with anger now.

“Who was it?” He asks only to have his suspicions confirmed.

“The Baron” you respond.

With that Feyd walks over to the table disengaging all security measures, letting the vulnerable go. Watching him you feel seized by surprise at his compliance. Unphased by his mercy he hands you another glass of water. You put it to your lips surprised by his lack of resistance. He tips the glass making sure you hydrate. The feelings you have for him are so strong they overwhelm you.

“Feyd, I love you” you whisper, finishing the water and setting the glass aside. He looks you over feeling the very same way. The shock of the past few days hit him hard and all at once.

.

“I love you … I” he stops turning to back you and you place a hand on his back. You rub circles as he takes his time.

“Show me” you whisper, needing him but he shakes his head in refusal. It stings and you withdraw only for Feyd to watch your wrists.

“Not until the spice is out of your system or it could hurt you and our child. I’ve put you at risk enough” he says choosing your well being over an overdue sexual reunion. The silence is thick and you decide to give him a moment changing the subject to other pressing matters.

“Paul Atriedes is alive, he’s the Fremen prophet you’re at war with” you inform but there is no smirk. No delight in a potential cat and mouse game, nothing behind his eyes aside from a quiet relief for you.

“I don’t care.” he swallows, clicking his jaw. You watch as Feyd fights against his inner animal. “I don’t care about any of it” he snaps with a thumb under your chin. His eyes narrow in on your lips as he sits bringing you closer. “I almost lost you, again” he snaps. His reaction is delayed but the clouds roll in all the same. He cared for the things that belonged to him, he was a protector and you’d been out in the desert because of his uncle's jealousy and pathetic pursuit of power. Sitting across his lap you wrap your arms around him relaxing your aching limbs in their safe place. Feyd watches you intently thanking all forces that you were back to him. He wouldn’t know how to control himself. He slides his hand under the hem of your top placing it on your stomach. One fell swoop and mother and child could’ve been gone. 

“I’m here” you say, drawing his eyes. “We’re okay” you add and he kisses your forehead again as the depths of his uncle's treason reveals itself to him.

“I'm sorry for everything I haven’t been able to protect you from” Feyd says out of frustration. Machinations of a mad man swimming around his mind. He’s ready to end it all, if he could the entire planet would be nothing but a memory, everything the Baron worked for. Reaching for the pitcher he pours you another glass watching you drink the water. Smiling, you rest your head in his chest.

“What?” He asks, raising his brow bone.

“I can almost hear the screams your thoughts are going to capture. I can feel the fear from your retribution” you comment honestly. Feyd turns his head to you, he’d been a witness to you being good, merciful and tolerant too many times for it not to be in your nature.

“That makes you smile?” He asks

.

“Anything that makes our lives together easier makes me smile,” you confess. “I’m with you, always” you promise. Feyd stands heading into living chambers, his hand guides you along with him. You realize he handles stress with silence, and kiss his hand. It’s an improvement from him requiring distance in his anger. He sets a bath filling the black tub with water, salts and oils. He undresses you slowly helping you in. He sits at the edge admiring you like a doll in his state of quiet anger. Dissociating his reflections run rampant. He’d lost and found you before. Only then as far as he knew you were safe in the care of the Bene Gesserit and not in the great expanse of Arrakis. Only then, you hadn’t yet been his. He’d never seen the beauty in your adult eyes. He’d never seen them smile. Never seen the fullness of your lips, or how they thin out when you smile. He didn’t yet know what it was like to crave you. Your presence, your body, your touch, your scent, your taste, your love. He’d never craved love before. You are and will always be the very best of him, his heart in human form and no one would ever take that from him and live to breathe or laugh about it. Looking at you in the tub is a physical reminder of the anguish the possibilities of a life without you would bring. 

Looking into your eyes he stands opting to cherish every moment. Unfastening his gear he removes his combat suit making sure his blades are tucked in the right compartments. You watch intently for the first time as Feyd-Rautha disrobes before you. Usually he removed your clothes during frenzied kissing and strong lust. Sitting back you admire his full physicality from his broad shoulders to his well endowed manhood. A lifetime isn’t long enough to appreciate him. Stepping into the tub Feyd takes his time getting in your gaze filling him with pride and confidence.

Spice vulnerability or not you need him.

“Don’t look at me like that” Feyd warns.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Makes me want to fuck you hard” Feyd confesses sitting opposite you. He takes your foot massaging it for you. 

“I'd probably like that” you confess embracing the here and now. You’d nearly lost him. 

“Every inch of me is yours” Feyd says and you wade through the water to him. “Feel this? It’s just for you” he whispers in your ear as you sit beside him he takes your hand placing over his dick. Leaning in for a kiss Feyd comes alive in your hand when he breaks the kiss, you steady your stroke taking care of the man who would do anything for you.

“Only me?” You ask, watching him and he nods

.

“Only you” he affirms, closing his eyes as you tighten your hand around his manhood stroking more deliberately. Instinct kicks in and his groans are an indicator of his arousal. You share a kiss speeding up just as he’s close and he grabs your hand standing up abruptly. It’s startling until you realize what he wants. Looking up you smile at the weight of him in your hands, his pretty cherry shaped head. Never breaking eye contact you kiss his tip, a naughty streak coursing through you.

“You’re perfect” he says through rugged breaths. You take him in your mouth sucking hard. Feyd’s eyes close as you handle him with care knowing instinctively exactly what he likes. The intimate kiss gives him a head rush, he steadies himself by placing a hand on your shoulders as you suck harder, bobbing your head faster. You revel in his body reaction, to feel the power you get from Feyd’s pleasure. In making him feel close to how good he makes you feel. He guided your head to his desired depth and pace singing you the filthiest praises as he teaches you how he likes to be pleased. You pool at his words of affirmation, his attentiveness and his size. He makes an impressive mess leaving remnants of his orgasm all over you and in the tub.

Standing slowly you watch his signature smirk emerge onto his lips. Slowly but surely Feyd returns from his despondence fully. Smiling, you file his reaction away in your memory. Breathing life into his cock could bring him back to himself, to the present, to loving you. “Good girl,” he whispers, helping you out of the tub. “My na-baroness” he says, pushing you into the shower. “When it’s safe, I’m gonna give it to you rough, make it fun for you” he whispers. 

“Hope that’s a promise” you remind and he nods, smirking in agreement.

“I can promise you that” Feyd smiles. “I can also promise you that this is the last time anyone separates us without our consent. I can promise it’ll all be over swiftly. I can promise after this I’m done with war because I’m just getting started with you” Feyd says, giving you the perfect bedroom eyes. 

“I’ll be right at your side” you promise and  the look in his eyes says he needs you right now. The air between you is electric and so is everything that is to come.

_______

As always thanks for reading & your support 🩶🩶🩶🩶 comment, like & reblog if you enjoyed!

_______

Taglist:

@elf-punk @dvmb4ssbiatch @thegabbyh @fanfiction-addict22 @meetmeatyourworst @jojoclown69 @lillypink @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @avidreader73 @emeraldsgirl33 @strawberryfieldsforevermore @rose-are-royal @delusionsofnostalgia @szapizzapanda @palomavz @mcswan02 @slutforsmut4ever @emeraldsgirl @jackiekae @sarahhelpimsinking @maat-the-prescriptive @moonsoulk @katherineswiftie2017-blog @melancholicmelanin @littlebugs @alexa4040 @unicoreads @mimsie95 @mamawiggers1980 @miaraised @7-reblogs @snwells @wo-ming-bai @wo-ming-bai

[lady-phasma]

Unreserved

Feyd x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI; penetration, oral sex (reader receiving), not really soft but maybe - maybe soft!dom Feyd?, spit as lube, kinda rough sex

Summary: Feyd can be himself with you and vents his frustration, no plot, just smut. no beta, appx. 1.8k words.

a/n: no physical description of reader; reader is not shocked by violence, very similar to Feyd himself was my goal anyway.

Feyd swept everything off the table with one stroke. His yell almost vibrated the walls. He was cool, calculated, stoic even, when he was in public. Here, however, just the two of you, he could let the emotions out. The only other place this was possible for him was in the arena. He stood, fists holding his weight on the tabletop, breathing heavily. His brow was furrowed, but began to soften.

You rose from your chair, barely rattled by his outburst. It wasn’t directed at you. As you walked toward him you assessed his state. He was angrier than you had seen in a while. The move from Giedi Prime had been a difficult one. He was honored to be named governor, but there was more here. Something new, perhaps.

You stood next to him, trailed your fingers up his forearm. The muscles and tendons were straining with his anger, like a bow string pulled taught. But at your touch he let his head droop forward just a little. It was enough encouragement that you continued to stroke up his bicep. You let your hand rest on his shoulder for a moment, watching, reading his body. His breathing had slowed but his fists still pressed hard against the table.

“My darling,” you smiled at him. You tilted your head to try to read his face. “What has happened?” He didn’t look up at you, but closed his eyes and growled. He straightened so swiftly that you snatched your hand away.

“My brother,” he finally turned to look at you. “Rabban is useless and has wasted so much time on these… Fremen.” He spat the final word.

You took a step closer to him. You held his gaze as you reached to stroke his perfectly smooth neck, your thumb caressing the back of his jaw, just below his ear. His brow began to relax but his jaw was still clenched tight with rage and frustration.

“You can make up for lost time,” you spoke low and soft. “You can correct his mistakes.”

“I have already taken steps to do so. We have begun preparations to burn them out of their rat holes.” His jaw relaxed slightly. You moved your hand further up his neck, fingers stroking the back of his head. He nearly closed his eyes as he pressed his head lightly into your palm.

Feyd exhaled and looked at you. His black teeth glinted as his lips parted, not in a smile, in something more like a sneer. You knew that look. He narrowed his eyes. Suddenly his hand was on your throat, his thumb pushing your chin up slightly. You smiled at him. He held you this way, not squeezing, for a moment before he leaned in and kissed you. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. Feyd was hungry, needy, searching for control.

You gave it to him. You slid your other hand up his chest to his neck and pressed your body against his. You let his tongue rove in your mouth as you moaned quietly. Feyd’s hand slid from your throat to your neck. His other hand gripped your waist firmly. When he pulled away you were more than a little breathless and lightheaded. He grinned at you. He moved your hands off his body and surprised you when he knelt.

He began to slide your pants off your hips and chills spread over your body. He guided you to step out of them. Then he slid his hands up the back of your thighs and cupped your ass in his hands. He flicked his eyes up to you briefly. You licked your lips.

Feyd placed his lips against you, his tongue flicking out lightly to taste you. You grasped the edge of the table as you felt a shiver run up your spine. You tried to watch him, watch his perfect lips on you, but your eyelids were heavy. He licked again. His breath was hot on your skin. When he took you into his mouth you did close your eyes. Your legs shook as he sucked and licked every part of you. He made the most lewd sounds, moaning and growling between your thighs.

You instinctively placed your free hand on his head as the tension in your core tightened. You felt his silent laugh vibrate through you. You were nearly panting with pleasure. Feyd’s hands roamed across your backside, fingers dipping under, between, anywhere he wanted. The sloppy, obscene sounds he made combined with the deft movements of his tongue fueled the heat in your belly. You felt muscles start to clench and relax, clench and relax. He held you steady with one hand on your ass and moved the other to explore where his lips and tongue could not reach. He stroked rhythmically against the exact spot he knew would unravel you.

“Oh Feyd,” you groaned. You stroked his head, trying not to press him hard against you. “I’m so close. Shit. I’m close.” He hummed in response. The feeling of that sound was almost enough to finish you. Then he stopped, leaned back, and looked up at you. You opened your eyes as you dropped your hand from his head. The sudden loss of his mouth from your skin was agony. But the look on his self-satisfied face, those glistening wet lips, his tongue languidly licking them… you had never seen anything as beautiful in your life. He raked his hand across his lips, wiping off the mess. You grinned.

He stood without speaking. His eyes glinted with something almost mischievous and you could see his erection straining against his pants. You swallowed dryly. Then he grabbed you by the hips and turned you to face the table. The force of the movement made you slap your palms on the table’s surface.

“Good,” Feyd growled from behind you. You grinned and shuddered. You could feel his eyes appreciating your exposed position. Then you heard him unfasten his pants. You leaned forward and placed your forearms on the table, giving him a better view. He groaned quietly as he watched. Then he spit on his hand and you could hear him stroking his cock.

Feyd took one step toward you and grabbed your hip. He stroked a few more times then positioned himself at your entrance. He moved his hand to your other hip as he slid in. So very slowly. He exhaled a sound that wasn’t quite a sigh. It was a sound of immense pleasure and familiarity. He pulled out slightly and then slid in just a bit deeper, once, twice more, until he was balls deep inside you. He stayed there for a moment. Your eyes were closed, forehead almost resting on the tabletop. You had been murmuring his name and obscenities until he paused.

He pulled almost all the way out and then pushed back into you fully with one stroke. You moaned, open-mouthed. He slid one hand up your back as he repeated the motion. Then he leaned forward just enough to grasp your shoulder for leverage. His cock went further than you thought possible as he pulled you back into his hips. You breathed his name.

At the sound of his name, Feyd began to pound into you. You gasped with almost every stroke. They were deep and long. He began to quicken the pace and you managed to glance over your shoulder. His eyes were focused intently on his cock disappearing inside you. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth. He liked what he saw immensely. You groaned and clenched around his cock. He fucked you harder for that and you let your head drop between your shoulders. The movement of your bodies and the sound of skin against skin were overwhelming. Your panting moans and Feyd’s quick breaths made the heat in your core build and twist. Like the tightening of a spring, you felt your climax building.

He slid his hand from your hip, up your side, and around to your chest. He all but slumped against your back, leaving no space between your bodies, as he pumped harder, faster into you. He tapped a booted foot at the inside of your ankle, signaling you to spread your legs wider. You did. He adjusted his hips and you made an unintelligible sound with his next stroke. It may have been his name, it didn’t matter, his cock hit a spot that made you feel as if you might lose your mind if you didn’t come soon.

Feyd growled with approval at the sounds he brought from you. He made his own delicious noises as he sped up. His grunts pushed you closer to the edge. You felt the coiling, tugging beginnings of your climax. Feyd also felt it, from deep inside you.

“Come for me,” just above a whisper, his voice full of gravel. “Come on my cock for me.” His words broke the dam holding you back. You gasped and cursed. He thrust his cock through the tightening of your muscles as you came. He was relentless. Your mind went blank and you squeezed your eyes closed.

“Fuck!” you yelled as your climax shook you. You leaned heavily against the table for support. Feyd didn’t hesitate or slow. He chased his climax as fiercely as he had brought about yours. The force of his thrusts pushed you closer to the table. You tried to brace yourself but could barely muster the strength.

Feyd barely pulled out at all; short, quick, deep thrusts were what he needed. His fingers dug into your flesh for purchase, leverage, in order to achieve the release he was so close to. You were nearly delirious listening to his muttering and groaning. Then you felt the rhythm falter. His strokes were barely strokes at all, his cocked stayed buried almost completely inside you. On one last thrust he stayed deep in you, his cum spilling out, warm between you.

You gasped as he said your name and ground his hips against you. You were panting, slightly dizzy from overstimulation. His breathing was loud from behind you, but slowing. You dreaded the inevitable: he would pull away from you and the empty feeling would seem, momentarily, stronger than the aftershocks of your climax. You didn’t whimper as he pulled out of you. You bit down on your lip and let your head drop back to the table.

Feyd chuckled. You looked at him as you slowly straightened up. He was tucking his cock back in his pants. You shot him a playfully suspicious glance.

“Thoroughly ruining you always improves my mood.” He grinned as he watched you stand shakily. He took your chin in his hand, between thumb and forefinger, and kissed you quickly and deeply. He pulled back and looked in your eyes. You smiled at him. His face was relaxed, all of his frustrations spent inside you.

Masterlist (with more Feyd)

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 5. Patterned behaviour

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw

Give me the judgment of balanced minds in preference to laws every time. Codes and manuals create patterned behaviour. All patterned behaviour tends to go unquestioned, gathering destructive momentum. — Darwi Odrade

It was easy to fall to the bed afterwards, as if she belonged there. Because she did now. Feyd was still catching his breath when she curled up beside him, her knees brushing against his hip, their sweat soaking into the bedsheets. A Fremen would’ve been outraged at the sight.

“Cruel witch,” he rasped.

“What was so cruel?” she asked, trailing a finger through the inky mess on his stomach. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

He slapped her hand out of the way — but there was not so much aggression in the move as there was a certain vulnerability, like an animal slapping at his master’s hand. Feyd heaved himself upward to get out of the bed, but she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him down again.

“Where are you going?”

“To wash myself.”

“Why?” she said, her touch softening into a gentle caress across the muscles on his chest. “I like you this way…”

“Filthy woman,” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners.

She couldn’t help herself and smiled. Even with his frightful black teeth — which in Harkonnen culture, she had read, was supposed to be quite attractive — his boyish nature came through to show something sweet and vulnerable. What a brilliant plan it had been to give him governorship over Arrakis… After Rabban, Feyd must have appeared to the natives like a heavenly angel. She reached up and caressed his soft cheek, his hard jawline, tracing the edge of his generous lips.

“Sleep, my na-Baron,” she said, laying down beside him, holding his gaze. “You will dream of pleasant things tonight.”

“Is that a promise?” he grinned.

She knew he was making light of his nightmares, and in a way dismissing them entirely. There might come a time when they would have to address them directly — if he was serious about wanting her to serve him as his Bene Gesserit, and if she didn’t escape first — but clearly it was not tonight.

Under her soft caresses, Feyd fell asleep quite fast. She followed, slipping first into a meditation, and then into the land of dreams. And even in her sleep, the only thing she felt, and saw, and tasted, was his body.

When she woke up the next morning, she noticed she’d been moved. She was higher on the bed now, laying against the multitude of pillows, and all covered up. Feyd was sitting on the edge, getting ready.

“You were cold,” he said without even turning. His hearing was better than she thought… “And, for that matter, so was I.”

“You tucked me in?” she smiled. “How sweet of you…”

“None of that,” he said roughly, turning to level a cold stare at her. “You did a very naughty thing last night. We’re going to have to… discuss it. But not right now.”

She swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded, but deep down she was already preparing for how to turn things to her favour next. He loves pain, she told herself. That is his lever. Use it.

As he continued to get dressed, she watched him. He wasn’t very good at it — probably was used to servants helping him, and they weren’t here right now — but he knew well enough how to put his armour on. She was almost tempted to help him, but then she remembered that she was supposed to have a different purpose.

“I suppose I should get dressed as well,” she said as she slinked off the bed.

“Why is that?”

“I serve you now. I should be there with you. To advise you.”

“Advise me?” he chuckled. “What do you know of military strategy?”

More than you, she thought, but she wasn’t even sure that was completely true. It was a mystery to her, what Harkonnens taught their young.

“I know Arrakis,” she said, coming to sit beside him. They cut a striking picture, him in his black armour and her in her naked skin, both looking equally confident. “And perhaps, my lord na-Baron, you can learn more about what a Bene Gesserit can do.”

“Or what she can’t do,” he muttered. But there was already a surrender in his gaze. He had decided to bring her along, now he only had to decide how to admit it. “No talking about me,” he pointed out. “To anyone.”

“Of course.”

“And no bragging about… about —”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

He chuckled. “I’ve heard that one before. I didn’t believe it back then, either.”

She didn’t miss the strange glances the other servants gave as she passed by, close behind Feyd-Rautha. They had breakfast together in a lavish dining hall, one with a long, black table and lights suspended high above. She’d never seen this room before…

His brother, Rabban, wasn’t there, and neither was the Baron.

“Do you always eat alone, my lord?” she asked him, sitting somewhere in the centre of the table, a respectable number of seats away, while Feyd sat at the head.

“Depends on what I’m eating,” he answered with a grin. “Besides, I’m not alone today, am I?”

“No,” she smiled. “You are not.”

He didn’t speak for the rest of the meal. He ate, in fact, in a hurry, eyeing her critically every now and then, judging her for how slowly she was chewing. And when he finished, he got up without even considering her presence. He paused in the doorway as he heard her scrambling to get up and follow, and bowed his head — he was suddenly regretful. Another habit of eating alone was, perhaps, his lack of consideration for others. He’d completely forgotten her by the time he finished breakfast…

She joined at his side without complaint, happy to already be doing her service: teaching him healthy new habits. Feyd looked at her quietly for a moment, and then they left together.

The day was spent in a strategy meeting, which he started without giving the time to any of his generals to question why she was there. The sight of a Bene Gesserit among the Harkonnen must’ve been rare indeed — or even that of a woman who wasn’t a slave or a serving girl.

They spoke their jagged language, and in phrases that were blissfully short. It was easy enough for her to understand even without a full vocabulary.

“Push them to the edge,” said Feyd as he stood above the map, fiddling with a neat little blade in his hands, a shiny thing of white silver. “The worms will finish what the storms do not.”

“Yes, sir, na-Baron.”

“Search scouting parties up ahead before you send in more harvesters. And I want a map of the richest spice fields by tomorrow morning.”

“Er, yes, yes sir.”

She eyed all the proceedings in silence, and in the mist of fear and anxiety, the other men completely forgot her. Their minds were so easy to read, their emotions so clear on their faces, on their hands, in the way they held themselves… And in their centre, Feyd, speaking to them as if they were Ixian automatons without any thought or feeling.

She waited for the meeting to be over before she finally joined his side and spoke.

“That was productive.”

“Was it?” he sighed, bracing his arms against the table. The door closed with finality behind his frightened generals. “I didn’t know you spoke our language,” he noted with a cocked brow.

“I am learning,” she smiled.

“Rabban left me a complete mess. It will take months to undo it.”

“Years. And you don’t have as much time as you think.”

“Really? Well, speak plainly, now.”

She turned, leaning lightly against the table so that she could better look at him. He was less sure of himself now than he had been around his men…

“If you push the Fremen too hard, they could go south. It is out of reach for us, out of control.”

“Nothing survives out there.”

“How do you know, if nobody’s ever been there but Fremen?”

He bit his lip and frowned, but didn’t disagree. “And you would do, what?”

“Relax the attacks. Give them a false sense of security. Bait them into —”

“Into exposing themselves…”

“Exactly.”

“But these savages won’t do that. They know we’ve got superior firepower. Their strength lies in their secret tactics.”

She shrugged. “You have a point…”

“But if… if we had to approach this like a fight between a stronger man and a weaker man…” he said, thinking out loud as he began to pace.

She looked at him and said nothing, letting the ideas germinate in his head.

“It’s late, it’s hot,” he sighed. “I’ll think about it more tomorrow.”

“Yes, my lord na-Baron. You still haven’t even had lunch.”

“I’ll have dinner. We’ll have dinner.”

“Another thing though… That map you requested.”

“What about it?”

“The spice fields on Arrakis are highly changeable and depend on many variables. It can take days for someone to calculate their frequency. Less if you had a Mentat. Or a thinking machine…”

Feyd chuckled. “Worried? Since when do you care about the fate of my men?”

“I don’t care about his fate. I care about whether he provides you with false information just to save his neck.”

“Hm… I’ll see what he brings me tomorrow,” he smirked, looking pointedly at her, “and maybe have you look at it.”

She paused, already unhappy with the charge she was given. Mathematical calculations were not her strong suit, but she understood she needed to submit to Feyd’s testing if she expected to be kept around.

“Yes, my lord,” she said with a light bow.

“Now, then. Let’s eat.”

She could already tell that his habits were changing. He watched her more closely and was clearly thinking about her, considering her from every angle. Although Feyd-Rautha made no effort to hide what he was feeling, she found it hard to pinpoint just what was going through his head that evening.

She met his gaze with more confidence than she felt but allowed him to watch her openly too, letting him enjoy the moments of peace between them. He seemed to only like speaking to her when the servants left the room.

“You like to watch, don’t you?” he asked, leaning back against his tall, elegant seat.

“I believe you’ve been doing the watching, my na-Baron,” she smirked.

“No, no, you know what I mean… I mean throughout the day. Us. All of us. You’re learning our language now? You’re studying our strategies. You think, you don’t speak…” he listed, his cold eyes set on her as their meals waited untouched before them. “Until my generals have gone…”

“Of course. I would not have them think your orders can be questioned.”

“Even though you question them.”

“That’s only for you to know,” she smiled.

Feyd smiled back. He suspected her of many things — both past and future betrayals — but in that moment, he appreciated her.

“Are you trying to learn more about me, my na-Baron?”

“Why not? You’re learning about us.”

“I think you’ll find me less inscrutable. If you wish to know something, simply ask.”

Feyd nodded and turned his attention to his plate at last. He cut into the meat, he moved the garnishings around, but before he could bring it to his lips he set the fork down loudly and looked up at her again.

“Why did you do that to me last night?” he quickly asked.

“Because you liked it.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re not as good at it as you think. How did you know I would like it?”

She set her knife and fork down too, and let her wrists rest upon the table. He was pulling her into something she wasn’t sure she wanted to confess, and she knew she couldn’t get him to forget it without using those Bene Gesserit tricks he hated so much. Perhaps there was a way to still turn this around in her favour…

“I merely recognised what I knew so well,” she answered quietly, her voice floating through the penumbra toward him.

“And where did you recognise it from?”

“From myself.”

Feyd leaned back again, his lips pulled into a grin. There was doubt in his eyes, but the rest of him seemed so intrigued, so glad about this new development, that she could almost guess what he was going to say next.

He’ll want to see it, she thought. He’ll want to see me like that. Exposed. Vulnerable before him.

“Show me,” he said, confirming everything.

[missjadesfics]

Paul Atreides

We Can Share - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Paul Atreides Y/n is Feyd and Paul's childhood friend; rather than choose one, why not have both?

We Made an Agreement - Paul Atreides x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n and Paul are married, both agreeing they can sleep with whomever they like. The reader finds comfort with Duncan. But Paul questions if the agreement works for him anymore.

My Gem - Paul Atreides x Reader Paul asks for the Emperor's eldest daughter, Y/n, for her hand in marriage.

Don't play the Fool - Paul Atreides x Reader Paul and Y/n are in an arranged marriage, and Paul notices his bride is unbothered by it. Maybe he can change her thoughts; after all, marriage can't be all that bad.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

His Little Wife - Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader Y/n is Paul's twin sister and is sent to marry Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

We Can Share - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Paul Atreides Y/n is Feyd and Paul's childhood friend; rather than choose one, why not have both?

Delicate Feelings - Feyd-Rautha x Reader Y/n is to wed Feyd-Rautha; intentionally, she is frightened, but Feyd begins to fall in love with her. When a man makes a move on the reader, Feyd reminds him; that he doesn't share.

Our Na-Baroness - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n is arranged to marry Feyd, and her lover Duncan goes as her personal guard to keep her safe. When Feyd learns of the lover's relationship, he ensures everyone understands where they belong.

Yours Truly, Feyd - Feyd-Rautha x Reader (Bridgerton-inspired AU) Feyd-Rautha, who hasn't felt the need for marriage, attends a courting ball to keep in his uncle's good graces. Y/n, on the other hand, has dreamed of her first courting ball, her debut to all the eligible lords. But falling in love with someone without intentions of marriage while thinking they don't reciprocate your feelings is silly, right?

His Sweet Kiss - Feyd-Rautha x Reader Y/n witnesses the attack on Arrakis, hoping to escape and find Paul. She is captured by the Harkonnen soldiers. And the future Na-Baron takes an interest in her.

Sandstorms aren't all that bad - Feyd-Rautha x Reader When Feyd-Rautha and Y/n are stuck in a cave during a sandstorm on Arrakis, they both confess their feelings for one another and find a way to pass the time.

Duncan Idaho

The Sword Master and the Ward - Duncan x Atreides!Ward Reader Duncan Idaho, the Atreides sword master, begins an illicit affair with Duke Leto's ward Y/n

We Made an Agreement - Paul Atreides x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n and Paul are married, both agreeing they can sleep with whomever they like. The reader finds comfort with Duncan. But Paul questions if the agreement works for him anymore.

Our Baroness - Feyd-Rautha x Reader x Duncan Idaho Y/n is arranged to marry Feyd, and her lover Duncan goes as her personal guard to keep her safe. When Feyd learns of the lover's relationship, he ensures everyone understands where they belong.

You will never lose me - Duncan Idaho x Reader Escaping from the attack on Arrakis, Y/n Atreides is reunited with Duncan Idaho and living amongst the Fremen in Sietch Tabr. While Paul and Jessica work with the Fremen about the Lisan-Al Giab prophecy, Y/n and Duncan grow closer, revealing hidden feelings for one another.

Leto Atreides

Feyd-Rautha looking after sick reader headcanons | coming soon

Dune men reacting to their so saying " i love you" | coming soon

Dune men looking after reader on their period | coming soon

Duncan Idaho x Reader - You will never lose me | coming soon