#FERAL FOR FEYD

[psycheetamore]

Misunderstood teen with anger issues who should get more cuddles from his mom and learn some bounderies

Example on why there should be a minimum age to expose people to violence, power and other adult stuff

Guardian of ancient fighting techniques

Giedi Prime's most eligible bachelor, who practices polyamory

Or, as @peggyao3 would say: a cuddly boy who can do nothing wrong.

reblog this with a terrible description of your Blorbo. go

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Command Me

Feyd Rautha X Plus Size! Y/N - drabble/series - Part 3 - 1.3K WC

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (you are here)

Part 4 NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: wedding, fluff, smidge of fear, starting to become the lovers part of enemies to lovers, shorter piece next one will be longer or at least have smut lol

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

Irulan adjusted your veil slightly, “You are a beautiful bride.” She said soft but sweet. 

You gave her hand a soft squeeze, “Are you sure you can’t stay on Giedi Prime with me?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

Her smile held sadness, “I wish I could, sister. Your happiness is my happiness, but I must return to Kaitain.” 

You dropped your head, knowing she must depart soon after the ceremony. It was a miracle she was here in the first place, she had begged her father the God Emperor and the Reverend Mother for ages before they relented.

She held your veil before walking backwards, adjusting it to flow perfectly behind you. As soon as you heard the music you took a breath, walking stoically into the Great Hall. Thousands of Harkonnen sat in the auditorium, looking down at you from the various balconies. You kept your eyes on Feyd who was wearing formal attire. All black, making him look quite handsome. You knelt to the Baron and Reverend Mother. The whole ceremony went by but you couldn’t hear a word. All you could say to yourself was the Bene Gesserit mantra to bring you some comfort.

        I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

You could feel the Reverend Mother listening to your mind. She felt no empathy for you, if anything she found you weak. It’s a marriage, how scary could it be? She didn’t know Feyd. Neither did you really. But he had a reputation and so far he was living up to it.

You were snapped out of your trance when you felt Feyd’s hand wrap around your throat, bringing your face to his so he could kiss you. His grip was firm but not painful. You bowed to your new husband before being escorted by several servants back to your shared quarters. 

“You are all dismissed.” You told them all as they moved to undress you.

“But Na-Baroness we must undress you for the ceremony.” One said timidly, not daring to look at you. 

“Ceremony?” You questioned.

“The… consummation ceremony your highness.” She said,

“Get out.” You said to them all. Nobody made a move, you could tell they had their orders. However, you were Na-Baroness. You had plenty of power.

“GET OUT ALL OF YOU.” You said, using the Voice. 

All the maids quickly scurried out of the room, Feyd entering as the last one exited.

“You never told me there was a consumation ceremony.” You said crossing your arms over your chest. 

“It is tradition.” Feyd said. He could see the anxiety you held, a slight tremble in your hands. The fierce Y/N, afraid of sex. Or was it fear of him?

“Is there no way around it? Out of it?” You asked, you tried not to tremble but it was impossible to hold still.

Feyd’s face held sympathy for you, “You’re afraid?” He said.

You looked at him, he wasn’t mocking, he was being genuinely curious. “It is the most vulnerable thing a person can do and I have to do it with a stranger and people watching me.” 

Feyd felt for you, something he never thought he’d be doing. “It will be quick.” He said, trying to be reassuring.

You moved closer to him, somehow finding comfort in him. “Will there be pain?” You asked.

“Yes. But just the first few times, it will resolve after that.” He said. He didn’t want to scare you but he also wasn’t going to lie to you. 

You looked like you were going to throw up. You sat on the edge of the bed, trying to mentally prepare. 

“I have an idea…” he mumbled, moving towards you quickly knowing there were mere minutes before the ceremony was to begin and others were to fill your bed chamber. 

You trusted him at this moment, you had to. Feyd lifted you with ease, tossing you back slightly in the bed. You let out a shriek, worried your trust was misplaced and he was about to do something horrible.

“Trust me…” he whispered.

You looked into his eyes, they looked as sincere as you had ever seen them. You nodded slowly, your eyes wandering to the door. 

Feyd undid your dress as quickly as possible, leaving you in your simple shift, hardly covering anything. “I need you to shift.” he said, taking off his ceremonial armour. 

“Into what?” you asked with confusion.

“Yourself. Cover yourself with bruises, cuts, anything to make you look like you were broken in… hard.” he said.

You did as he said, your mind reeling. 

Feyd tossed a sheet over you haphazardly before your illusion took hold, your shift disappearing and your body looking ravaged.

The chamber door slid open as Feyd stood, looking as if he was putting his pants back on. You kept your breathing shallow but made sure it sounded labored, like you were in pain. The Baron, Reverend Mother, and other nobles from the court poured in. 

“Feyd you animal, couldn’t wait could you?” the Baron laughed as he hovered closer, looking at the welts and handprint bruises littering your skin. 

“Did she bleed?” Reverend Mother asked as she lifted the sheet, seeing blood smeared on your inner thigh.

“I told you, my nephew the brute! He defies tradition just to devastate his new wife.” the Baron said as he clapped a hand on Feyd’s shoulder proudly. 

The Reverend Mother read your thoughts, all you focused on was pain. “Her duty was performed,” she said, finally moving her eyes to Feyd, “And will continue to be performed.”

Feyd dropped his head in acknowledgment of everyone in the room as they left. The silence in the room was deafening for a still moment before he made his way over to you. “Y/N?” 

You kept your breathing labored, a painful wheeze escaping your lips before you jumped towards him slightly, “Ah!” you said, laughing slightly.

Feyd’s eyes widened but he didn’t move. Your illusion faded away and tension he didn’t know he was holding in his body at the sight of your mock injuries faded as well. You wrapped your arms around Feyd’s shoulders which shocked him, he didn’t move completely stunned at your action.

“Thank you…” you said sincerely. 

Feyd slowly moved to wrap his arms around you. After a moment you broke away from him, he stared into your eyes for a while yet you were unable to fathom what he might be thinking. 

“My destiny…” he whispered before gently moving stray hairs away from your face. 

His touch on your skin felt… nice. And after his quick thinking, sparing you from humiliation, from something you weren’t ready to do yet - a kind touch was much appreciated. Your noses nudged each other as your breaths intermingled. You wanted to hate him, why was it becoming more difficult to do so with each passing day? You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, to feel him in the smallest ways you could without getting too close. 

Feyd brushed his lips against yours, when you didn’t pull away he pressed his to yours completely. It wasn’t rough or crushing. It was as if he was testing the waters. And you found yourself cradling his face, wanting to keep him near. You let your hands cascade over his broad shoulders and naked chest before he abruptly broke away from you.

“We should sleep.” he breathed out, yet his eyes wandered over your hardly clad body. Oh how he wanted you. But he couldn’t, not like this. He gently pushed your shoulders down so you could lay down. Your eyes never left him as he moved throughout the room. “Goodnight.” he said before disappearing into the bathroom.

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

Naboo's Note:

SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG - life has been living lol will try harder to update this one a tad more frequently. XOXOXOXO!!!!!!

Taglist:

@sw33tsnow

@isansstuff

[austinbutlerslovers]

Feyd Rauthas voice, his walk, his eyes 🔥 …

[requested bc you all said you miss him so much 💕]

[prettybubblesintheair]

Feyd-Rautha - he’s iconic ♡ ࣪˖ ⊹⋆

- his smile is my Roman Empire ♥︎

Song: Isabel LaRosa - butterflies

[psycheetamore]

He is... he is our sweetheart. Our bold ripped sweetheart. Our psychotic sweetheart. Our heartwripping sweetheart.

[kieli13]

I finally finished "And then he lit the sky" by DeVear

I am so sad it ended. I know it ended back on October 2024, but I wanted to wait to finish it.

Check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54385135/chapters/153281347#workskin

[psycheetamore]

Made for Feyd

— Nikita Gill

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Command Me

Feyd Rautha X Plus Size! Y/N - drabble/series - Part 2 - 2.3K WC

Part 1

Part 2 (you are here!)

Part 3

Part 4 NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: the Voice, slightly steamy, full of tension, being rude to each other, enemies to lovers, like two kisses?, it's all building up to the next chapter

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

You woke to see Feyd sitting across the room from you, watching you. You sat up quickly grabbing his knife that you had taken from him the day prior, flipping it around as you prepared to throw it. 

Feyd put his hands up in surrender.

You kept your position, eyes narrowing as you did not trust him.

He stood slowly, “I don’t want to fight you.” he said, keeping his hands up.

“Afraid you’ll lose?” you said, quirking an eyebrow and swinging your legs around so you could stand. “Again.” you said with a cold gaze.

Feyd let out a scoff but his face was adorned with a smirk. He liked how defiant you were, especially to someone like him. Everyone feared him, you were so intriguing because not only did you not fear him, you challenged him. “I fear you are outmatched, Y/N” he said.

A shiver ran down your spine when he said your name. You hated to admit it but you wanted him to say it again, it rolled off his tongue ever so sweetly. You slowly lowered the knife. “What do you want? Or do you just enjoy watching people sleep?”

“You fascinate me woman,” he said with a genuine air of amazement.

You rolled your eyes at him, “You didn’t answer my question, what do you want?” 

“The Baron and Reverend Mother are always watching. They want us to become… familiar with one another. We are to be married after all.” he said, walking closer to you until he sat on the bed, you towering over him. His head was level with your chest and it took every ounce of his mental strength to not ogle your chest. Flashes from the night before replayed in his mind, the black water running over your nipples and down your thighs. Control yourself was all he could repeat in his mind. He saw you sigh when he said marriage. “You do not wish to be married?”

“What does it matter? I have known I would marry you for as long as I can remember to fulfill some prophecy. That is my purpose, what I want is of no consequence to anyone.” you said. 

He could see the sadness in your eyes. He often felt the same way. He wanted his life and fate to be his own, not some part of a grand religious plan. But alas, here you both were. “You do not wish this,” he said to himself.

“Do you? You said it yourself, I’m just a simple, pathetic Tleilaxan.” you crossed your arms.

Feyd hesitated, the knife still in your grasp. He went with his instinct despite the possibility of injury. Feyd gently placed his hands on your hips, leaning his forehead to your abdomen. “You have always been my destiny,” he looked up at you. 

Your face was full of shock. You wanted to push him away but this was a side of Feyd you had not seen before. His eyes looked like they did when he was a teenager, soft and vulnerable. You couldn’t help it but the skin beneath your shirt tingled at his touch. You could feel the pads of his fingers slightly digging into the lush skin. You wondered if he knew how to be gentle with a woman? You had heard rumors that he kept concubines but the Reverend Mother said they had been dismissed as your arrival approached. Did he treat them like this? You shook your head, regaining control. You don’t like him. He is the Harkonnen who bound you to this kind of existence. You could not, would not, do anything more than endure him. You pulled back, holding the tip of his knife to his throat. “Destiny or not we are bound together by obligation, nothing more.” You said before walking away. You grabbed the first dress you saw, all of them were black just varying in style before walking into the bathroom.

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

Feyd considered what you had said earlier the whole day as he trained. He had killed at least a dozen slaves, training so hard everything in his path was fair game. He isolated himself in the arena, the black sun beating down on him. Falling into a void of emotions he thought he had long forgotten.

You spent most of the day with the Reverend Mother. All she could go on about how important it was for you to “perform your Bene Gesserit duty”. She made Feyd sound like a chore, a disgusting one at that. The sky had started to darken, sunsets on Giedi Prime were strange. You missed Bandalong, the Holy City of Tleilax. It was industrial, but not in the way the Harkonnens had polluted their planet with. You missed the air there, how it smelled fresh and clean. Like trees and moss most days. Most of all you missed the five moons that orbited your planet. All were different sizes and different colors. You never thought you would miss something so trivial. 

“So forlorn,” said Princess Irulan, making you jump slightly. 

You turned away from the terrace hugging her with a genuine smile breaking out across your face. You two had spent so much time around each other in your youth. Your father being one of the members of the Tleilax Masters you were treated as royalty. Especially when both religions realized the power they had brought about was so great. Their centuries of breeding created a Bene Gesserit, Bene Tleilaxu Face Dancer who could not only shape shift but also wield the Voice. They made you a fierce fighter, a true force to be reckoned with. You were beautiful beyond most in your race, having features that were similar to your distant human ancestors. You had a plump figure, round face, full cheeks, and less sharp teeth. You had eyelashes, long and curled slightly upwards unlike most in your race who had lost the trait of eyelashes and eyebrows long ago. Your pale skin still had a rosie flush about it. By all means you were the closest to a human most had seen from Tleilax in ages. 

“What troubles you?” Irulan asked, guiding you gently to a bench.

You sighed, picking at the skin around your fingers.

“It’s the marriage isn’t it?” she asked, looking at you with concern and understanding.

“I will perform my duties.” you said robotically, repeating what you had been told your whole life. 

“I know you Y/N, you wish for more than what the Bene Gesserit have planned. All you spoke of when we were little was falling madly in love. Do you not recall?” Irulan smiled softly at you, turning your cheek to face her directly. She smoothed her thumb over your cheek. Your eyes were welling with tears. Irulan was the only soul you trusted in this lonely existence, and you knew she felt the same. She was the only one you could be vulnerable with. “As I remember, it was you who droned on and on about the wonders of love, how it would envelope you whole.”

“Feyd Rautha is not capable of such a thing. You have seen him, he is psychotic. Harkonnen are not capable of love.” you said with a stern tone, frustrated that this was to be your life.

Irulan sighed, she knew you were right. The Harkonnen were feared throughout the Imperium. It would be a lie if she told you they could change. “If he cannot love he can be manipulated. He is vulnerable in some way.” she said.

“What way? He is a brute, he has no weaknesses.” you said, looking off into the distance.

“The way all men are vulnerable - sexually. He loves pain. Find a way to combine the two.” she said, her eyes full of confidence. She believed you could not only survive here, but thrive. 

You looked down, finally feeling the tears flow down your face. You sniffled before you could respond, “I… I don’t know if - if I can…” you mumbled. 

Irulan lifted your face with her hands, wiping your tears away, “You are Lady Y/N daughter of Lord Mirlat Torg, one of the strongest Tleilaxu Master’s the Imperium has ever seen. You are Bene Gesserit, Sardaukar, and Face Dancer. And now you will become Harkonnen - show me a stronger woman in all the Galaxies?” 

You sniffled once more, trying to compose yourself. She is right. Everything you’ve endured, everything you have become. You can be just as strong and ruthless as Feyd Rautha. Irulan pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back reassuringly. You held her, soaking up all the comfort she brought you.

“Na-Baron Feyd Rautha demands your presence.” a guard said, causing you and Irulan to jump slightly. 

You both stood, she squeezed your hands giving you a slight nod. “I will see you tomorrow before the ceremony. Good night sister.” she said before walking off towards the guest wing of the palace, the guard bowing slightly as she left.

You followed the guard all the way back to your shared chambers. When the door slid open you saw Feyd removing his chest armor. You entered the chamber, “You demanded my presence oh gracious Na-Baron, how ever could I serve you?” you said with a sarcastic and spiteful tone, crossing your arms.

Feyd looked at you before removing his shirt, his pale skin glistening with sweat. You felt a lump form in your throat, trying your best to not let your eyes roam. “What do you want?” you said in a softer tone. 

Feyd walked closer to you, stopping inches before his nose touched yours. You could feel his breath on you, it made you shudder. Why was your body responding to him?

“Like I said, the Reverend Mother wishes for us to be acquainted before we marry tomorrow.” he said, searching your face for something unknown. 

You huffed, “Fine.” you said monotonously. You walked around him but heard him following after you. You made your way to the library. If you had to be around each other at least you could do it in silence. Feyd watched you as your eyes scanned over the shelves looking at the many books. You landed on a history book, The History of the Butlerian Jihad.

“Why would you want to read a book on war?” Feyd asked with a slight scoff. 

“History doesn’t repeat itself but it often rhymes. We are going to be part of history one day. If we do not know our past we are doomed to make the same mistakes.” you said as you walked to one of the large tables in the foyer. You jumped up to sit on the table, leaning back with the book.

Feyd looked at you with hungry eyes, imagining you laid out for him on that table, screaming his name. He walked over to you, walking slowly until he was slotted between your legs. You put the book down on the table, eyes wide at his bold actions but your lips remained sealed. He kept his eyes on you watching for any reaction you gave him. His hands ghosted over your thighs, sliding your gown up slightly before his hands settled on your hips. Your ears were ringing but you remembered what Irulan said earlier - exploit his weakness. You leaned up slightly, showing him you were not afraid of him. He smirked, his eyes growing slightly playful. You raised your hands gently, one resting on his bare waist the other on his cheek. His hands slid from your hips to your waist. You both watched each other, seeing who would cave first. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, his lips hardly skimming over the column of your neck. His warm breaths making you lean into him. You tilted your head back, letting your eyes flutter closed. 

“And what will history say of us?” He whispered, the words making you shudder once more.

“That we did what was necessary.” you struggled to get out.

Feyd sat up pulling you with him, his lips so close to yours. “My Lady.” he says against your lips before releasing you from his grasp and walking out of the library.

You took deep breaths, feeling like you were getting air for the first time. What the fuck was that?

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

You stepped out of the bathtub, wrapping the towel around yourself. The door slid open making you jump. Feyd entered, shirt off with loose pants hanging around his hips. You hadn’t been able to get him off your mind since the library. Feyd looked at you as the droplets of black water slipped over you onto the floor. You tried to move around him but wherever you moved he blocked you. 

“What?” you said with frustration.

Feyd’s hand rose to your cheek, he walked you backwards until your back hit the wall. “You’ve never been touched before.” he said, watching the blush creep up on your face. 

You put your hand to his chest, keeping some semblance of space between you two. His heart was beating fast. Was he nervous around you? “Have you ever been kissed?” he asked.

You didn’t respond, trying to remain defiant.

“Would you like to?” he asked, hardly audible.

You tilted your head down to look at him which Feyd took as a yes. He connected his full lips to yours. You pushed him back immediately, looking at him with shock before glancing down at his lips. He pulled you back in, wanting to taste you as much as possible. 

“ON YOUR KNEES.” you said using the Voice.

Feyd dropped before you. Your body wanted him so badly but you needed to resist. “See you at the altar, Na-Baron.” you said, walking past him to your bedroom.

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

Naboo's Note:

Yayyyyy next part! I think the next chapter is going to be to everyones liking. I hope you all are well :) Let me know if you guys want to see any tropes in this story, I'd love some ideas. Thank you! XOXOXOXXOXOX!!!!!!!!

Taglist:

@sw33tsnow

[austinbutlerslovers]

Oh I’m jerkin it to those sounds Feyd makes later, that’s for sure

Compilation of the sounds Feyd makes 🫶🏻

Orig Feyd is a “Noisy Thing”

[Im sorry in advance Im not sorry 😭]

[prettybubblesintheair]

Can you play Feyd?

• Feyd-Rautha I LOVE you so much ♡⋆˚ ༘

[psycheetamore]

"Way ahead of you... why did it take so long to present the sword? Now I got to do it all by myself..."

*puts the tip of my sword in your mouth* enough, you will only talk when I tell you t- stop sucking on it

[psycheetamore]

Feyd-Rautha’s benevolent teachings for his favourite soldier

Summary: you are the favourite concubine of the na-Baron. After a gruelling day of battle on Arrakis, he wanted to wind down. But one of his most prized soldiers, Ivan, had again saved his life, granting him one wish to be fulfilled. And again, he chose to have you, or in any case tried to do that. The young lord tried to settle with offering entry to his annual underground rave, and one of his other concubines, not wanting to share you again. But Ivan was not having any of it. Where initially the men started to quarrel over you, it ended with them examining who could fuck you best.

Tags: the works – MDNI, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen Is His Own Warning, explicit smut, Feyd-Rautha is physically imposing, Feyd-Rautha as benevolent teacher, oral (trying to dry her out and weirdly not succeeding in it), p in v, public, little ménage à trois (mfm), punishment, Feyd-Rautha having someone else pressing down their hand to feel the na-Baron’s cock, reference to a na-Baron shaped toy, interaction between concubines, dubious consent, no beta we die like duke Leto, the author regrets nothing, the author was set up to write this by @houserautha & @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal following a convo on the meme above I made recently

Word count: 5.4k

+++

“Ivan, you seem to have done everything you could to save me” Feyd-Rautha growled. Although it should have been his soldier’s task to protect the na-Baron, the former had learned that the latter would upkeep tradition that anyone who saved a member of the Harkonnen family could ask for anything they wanted. Which could only be refused through a battle to the death.

“I do not believe there was a second where you were not hovering around me” the young lord continued. “And” while the men stood to look at how Ivan had overcome a Fremen who flown from under the surface of the sand to kill “it appears as if you have succeeded.”

Ivan smirked, crow feet forming around the eyes on his tanned and quite rectangular face. This man did not even try to feign what he was after. Light brown curling hair and green eyes: quite the opposite of his master. Years in battle had roughened his body and face, but had never managed to remove his boyish twinkle in his eyes and lips. And that would not change now.

“We both know why you did that” Feyd-Rautha sighed. Laying his hand over the shoulders of this brother in arms, he asked: “what do you want this time? And please don’t ask me anything that will make me kill you.”

“Sir, you know what I desire, and you know what I will ask” he said, as the men walked back to the ornithopter.

Another sigh left the body of the Harkonnen heir, as he replied: “how about tonight? Join me at my gathering. You are my special guest. And maybe I can teach you a thing or two.”

Ivan nearly jumped, getting this honour bestowed upon him. Never had he participated in this infamous event, despite longing to do so after hearing many rumours. Feyd-Rautha wanted to continue his annual fête, even if he no longer was in Barony. Organised within the belly of the Arrakeen palace. A party, fuelled by spice, sounds and sex, continuing for multiple days. There were no limits, other than the darlings of the na-Baron. Not even the body of the heir was inaccessible.

+++

As you were preparing yourself for the evening, which required your participation, Feyd-Rautha stepped in your room. He always did this, visiting his different concubines, comforting that he came back in one piece, even if that was a given. As his favourite, he would first come to you.

“Feyd!” as you leaped at him and wrapped your arms around him. You knew he disliked you seeing his return as a special achievement. Still, you could not overcome the worry, and allowed yourself this little insubordination. It was good you were not yet dressed, as this hug covered you in blood – again.

Kissing him on the cheeks and hugging him, relieved he was back again, safely in your arms, you asked him whether the raid was squashed.

“Yes, it was my darling. I told you to never doubt me” he stated, with some displeasement in his voice.

“I am sorry my lord. You know I just cannot deal with the uncertainty, however small the chances may be of you being hurt” you explained with an exhale.

He petted your hair, as he said, surprisingly understanding: “I know. You explained it before. You know that I carry good protection with me, who has proven to be very reliable once again.”

You looked at him, perplexed. He was not one to admit someone or something had saved him. Your heart stopped beating for a second. The last time he told you something like this, you ended up being fucked by him and Ivan.

You still thought about that every night that you were alone, and also sometimes when Feyd would own you. You would close your eyes, and as the na-Baron was fucking you, you thought about how it was actually Ivan driving himself in you, relentlessly, punishing. Soldiering through. You had always found both of them to be very attractive. Knowing the pleasures the soldier was willing to bring you, made you keen to see him again. Who knew what could be the situation now, and why he had mentioned it. You just hoped it was Ivan again, who had saved him, and that he had requested your favours again. And at the same time, you felt incredibly guilty. The young lord had allowed you to live in a lap of luxury, protected and provided with everything you needed, including his own companionship. Unless you had acted up, he would always leave you satisfied, give you more than you could deal with. There was nothing to complain. But still, being surrendered to another man enticed you. Perhaps even more knowing the menacing na-Baron was appalled, or even offended by it. You felt alive. And having some hair to hold yourself to was also nice for a change.

As you gathered your wits to ask him, he had already wrestled him from under your arms, kissed your hand and bid you a good evening, only to see you at the gathering.

With a flutter in your stomach, you continued your preparations.

+++

Feyd-Rautha walked into the deep basements of his palace towards the source of relentless beats. He was adjourned by his concubines, two of whom walked next to him, as he had wrapped his arms around their waists. You were one of them, being fully covered in a form hugging leather brown one-piece, held together through zippers and buckles. He had opted for mere leather trousers, showing his impressive pale physique. Walking into the large basement area with the prince of the party caused you to bask in the limelight.

No time to waste, Feyd-Rautha did not stop to join one of the halls where guests were focussing on dancing. He went directly to the more scarcely lit rooms, deeper into the castle. The rooms where people found each other. Where they joined their limbs and became one. As you got deeper and deeper, less people were dancing and more people were groping each other, pushing themselves into each other, licking and sucking each other. In corners, trying to find places with more shade. As you got deeper and deeper light became scarcer all together, as was the case with people’s inhibitions. The sound from the party softly died down, allowing for the more physical noises to take over. Even if you could not see them, you could hear and smell bodies merging repeatedly with pleasures being found.

Nothing was off limits, apart from the darlings of Feyd, as well as the platform on which a custom bed was placed. You found your way through the mass of people laying on the floor, standing against pillars and sitting on couches while fucking each other high on spice, to find the matrass large enough to cater to a considerable number of people. Soft, sturdy, surrounded by poles. Curtains could be drawn, or not. Although it was not roped off, everybody knew this was truly Feyd’s territory.

He went straight for the bed and laid his tired body down to rest. You knew he loved to watch people lose all inhibitions, submitting to fornication. It made him feel safe, relaxed. He pointed at one of his other concubines and ordered her to take of the outer layer of her clothes. Watching her follow his orders, he winked to have her come stand next to him. He moved her panties to the side to push his fingers in her. “Warm and wet. You will do” and ordered her to sit at the end of the bed.

“Ivan, come claim your prize” he shouted, and as if coming from the woodwork, an excited soldier emerged from the shadows. “There, you can take her. She is ready for you. You will like her.” He turned around, as this conversation was now over as far as he was concerned. He wanted to avert his attention to you.

But Ivan was not having that: “Sir, the woman you offer is lovely. But, I want her” glancing at you, while both arms of the na-Baron were wrapped around you. “I have never encountered a cunt so velvety, so sweet, so full of desire.”

“Ivan” he said menacingly.

“Sir” he replied with a light tremble in his voice.

You heard a sigh, as your heart was racing. You were so close yet so far. You had been longing for Ivan. You had never expected to have this opportunity again. But the thought of him fucking another woman, mere meters away from you, it was devastating. You knew you could not plead to Feyd, you could not beg. But how you wanted to. Clenching your jaw to control your emotions, you decided to accept this situation.

But Ivan would not, and he moved closer to the bed, ignoring the woman he so brutally had rejected.

The atmosphere shifted and you felt the men size each other up. From the look in his eyes, you knew Feyd-Rautha could lash out any moment now. Before you could control yourself, you grabbed his face, turned him towards you and kissed him, dragging him into you. Knowing what you were doing, he shoved you away and leaped up towards Ivan.

The men started to fight and soon ended up wrestling on the floor. Rolling over each other, trying to get each other to submit. All, to be able to claim your favours this evening. How you were willing to share them with both of them, as you had a while ago, they would probably never know.

Panting, Ivan said: “I have trained you, I know your weaknesses. Keep your promise. It is always the same with you Harkonnen scum” as he pounded away at him. Ivan had managed to mount the young lord and was throwing punches at his abdomen and face. Some landed, some not, but Feyd-Rautha was pressed into the defence. You wanted to intervene. You needed to intervene. But how could you, without insulting your lord? You knew your concubinator would be able to salvage himself, but you wanted to protect Ivan. Winning from your lord would come with repercussions. He should have known that, but he clearly did not care, as he continued to fight.

So, you did the one thing you could think of, that should not get you in life-ending trouble. You crawled towards Feyd’s other concubine, who had been sitting at the end of the bed, nearly naked and alone. From the corner of your eye, you could see they were slightly disrupted by your actions, keen to learn what would happen.

Once you found her, you spread her legs to kneel between them, and started to kiss her. If neither of the men would entertain you, you would find someone else.

As you kissed her, your hands flowed down over her body, across her back, her waist, her hips, her legs. You pressed her mouth on yours, as you placed her legs further apart. Starting to push her backwards, your fingers found her folds. Still warm and still wet.

You wondered what kept them from intervening. Were they so taken in by their fight, that they would ignore this?

While in the process of exploring your fellow concubine, you suddenly felt yourself being torn off her.

“Woman, why did you distract me?” as Feyd-Rautha turned out to be the one holding your ankle, as he pushed you on your belly and slapped your butt cheek. “I thought I taught you to never cause any distraction” as he slapped you again. Feeling the leather surrounding your body was holding you back from feeling the true pain, he started to unbuckle the back of your jumpsuit. He needed to find your bare skin, allowing his hits to have their full impact.

But before he could continue, you heard Ivan speak to him: “sir, I believe that this night I get to implement your punishment. I saved you, and now I bested you. You need to keep your promise.” It was followed by a growl, and movements on the bed.

Soon hands continued to uncover your backside. “Milady, I am terribly sorry, but I must enact the punishment your lord has ordered for you.” He continued: “my lord, how many blows should she get for this?”

“Ivan, do you want me to kill you?” was the response that came.

“No sir, I just want to follow your orders. Ensuring discipline is key in managing both your army and your harem” Ivan responded.

“Ivan, I will not forget this. You will be punished.” He sighed, clenching his jaws out of frustration and spat: “give her 10” as you felt him fall back to the matrass again. “And make them hard. She needs to regret what she did.”

“Yes, sir” as he caressed your butt, before he started to hit.

You decided you would not give Feyd-Rautha the pleasure of hearing you scream of pain. The first slap caused you to bite your teeth. You could handle this.

The second blow resulted in you biting your lip.

The third strike was harder than the two before. You were not anticipating that and grabbed the covering on the mattrass to project your pain.

After the fourth slap you could not stop yourself and groans left your mouth. Your buttocks were turning red, the palm of his hand started to show and a fire was ignited inside of you. Laying bare in front of him, no panties covering any sights, allowing him to see right into your core.

By the eight slap your response had turned into screams every time his hand hit you.

At the tenth slap you were trembling, trying to recover from the pain, dripping from your core.

Ivan crawled over you, with you still laying on your stomach as you tried to breathe the pain away, whispering in your ear: “I will make it up to you. You have no idea how much I have longed for you. No woman could compare after I had you. I would give my life for a last fuck with you. I want to bury my cock in you, and stay there until I die. I want to be deeper in you than any man has ever been. I want to be so deep in you that I am lost, can no longer leave and are to life there forever.”

As he pushed his fingers in you, he continued: “you are so fucking wet. So warm. Hmm, I believe you wanted to be punished. Didn’t you? If I would not know better, I would have thought you had already come, so slick, so precious.”

From the back of the bed, a smoky voice shouted: “stop the charade, fuck her already and get it over with. You don’t want to keep your master waiting.” You felt the tension rising again, causing your heart to skip a beat. “And you know: you cannot come in her pussy. That is reserved for my cum that she will get tonight, if she behaves. But we are still a long way from there as punishment of this distracting thing is not yet over.”

“Yes, my lord” as he unzipped his pants, pushed your legs wider and drove himself into you while pushing your chest deeper into the matrass. You felt him fuck you without any gentleness, just as you had remembered. No build up, no soft beginning: menacing from the start. You tried to stop yourself from coming so quickly, but you were so ready for him. You had been ready for him ever since he had spilled himself in your ass a while ago.

In the aftermath of that first and last time, feeling his cum leave your body, as Feyd’s left your cunt, smelling both of them on you – it drove you insane. Feyd knew his concubines could have appetites he could not always fulfil as he needed to attend to all of them, so he had gifted each a toy replicating his manhood. You used this gift to satisfy yourself, with what they left as lubrication. It wasn’t as good as with either of them, but it was successful none the less, being filled and stretched by this correctly dimensioned yet larger-than-life replica.

You wanted to savour these moments. Cherish them. But your body wasn’t capable of stopping itself, and within what felt like mere seconds you came; barely being able to shut your mouth, as you would have otherwise moaned Ivan’s name.

 “Coming so quickly? Little needy cunt that you have. Didn’t your lord satisfy you, while I was away? You needed me, I see” he whispered. “Nice tight little pussy, all for me. I spoiled you. It knows it will never get a better cock.”

“I fucking heard that, Ivan. I can still kill you” the menace behind you threatened.

As Ivan kept driving himself in you, he looked to Feyd-Rautha and you could already imagine that he would say the most taunting things. Just like last time, when he chose a balancing act putting his life on the line to achieve his satisfaction.

He did not disappoint: “tonight, you will watch me fuck your favourite. You see how quickly she came? I can teach you that as well, sir. Or maybe you just need to give her to me.” As he continued to engulf himself in you: “you can borrow her sometimes, if you ask nicely” while squeezing one of your cheeks so hard that it left the marks of his fingers and nails.

You had learned to read men. To understand men. It was a matter of seconds before Feyd-Rautha were to challenge him again. But there was nothing you could do.

And you were right.

Ivan was pushed aside, causing him to leave you mid-thrust without a warning, resulting in a large thumping sound and a ripple on the platform. As you turned around to see what had happened, clenching your thighs together to keep the pressure on, you saw Feyd kneeling where Ivan had kneeled just moments ago, whipping his cock out, ready to replace his trainer.

“My darling” he said, as lovely as he could do that, tiling his head forward and gazing straight into your eyes, “you will need to tell me, us, who fucks you better” as he pushed you on your back, drove your legs apart and found himself where he had just caused emptiness.

Despite the perhaps deserved disciplinary actions inflicted on behalf of Feyd and despite all the efforts of Ivan, your walls still needed time to adapt, causing you to curl under Feyd’s relentless punishment. Your lord knew you needed time to adapt, you always needed that. But he did not give you that luxury this evening, no time to get accustomed, every centimetre he possessed was driven inside of you at once.

“Tell me woman, who feels better? Who claims you better? Who gets you wetter?” he growled.

But all sense had left your head as you were heading towards a new high. Something that would save your life. The only sounds you were capable of making were involuntary moans. It must have been a sight to behold, in front of his other concubines, in front of his subjects, fighting over a single woman. Neither of them made any effort to hide or somehow protect your modesty. There was only one thing on their mind, or perhaps two: best each other and find their own highs.

“Sir, I do not believe she will make for a very objective judge” while looking at you as you fell apart. “We need to find another way to determine who takes her better, who she hungers for more” Ivan suggested.

Continuing to own you, Feyd thought about this. The ever-benevolent leader, he had always been willing to learn sensible ideas from his men. He had no patience for stupidness, but he had grown accustomed and perhaps even had started to appreciate Ivan’s forwardness. Any other man would have already been laying to bleed dry on the floor for the insolence shown just this very evening, but not this man.

“What other way, soldier? How can we compare? Through her wetness? How quickly she comes? How hard she moans?” The young lord’s brain capacity was available only partially, as he was primarily focussing on you.

“Yes, let’s start with that. We cannot compare how much moisture comes from her anymore. She is already too wet.”

“No. You need to think in solutions. You can lick her dry” the na-Baron replied.

“We can try, sir”, an enthusiastic Ivan replied.

“No soldier. You do not try. You succeed” as he removed himself from you, allowing Ivan to proceed.

Your mind still in a haze, you could not help but feel that the young lord knew what he was doing all too well, as Ivan started sucking your pussy, starting the quest. A tiny moment that your eyes locked was enough to convince you.

The man’s tongue and mouth worked for your pleasure, even if that was not his primary goal. Not stopping but continuing. You could no longer recall where one high started and the other ended; it became one big wave you surfed high.

As was the case with everything between these men, this too became a little fight between them. Trying to drive themselves in to deplete the source of all the moisture, seeing who could achieve that first.

But in the process, they only enticed you to share more.

“Sir. I hate to say it, and I would love to continue, but quite unexpectedly I am coming to the conclusion that we may not reach out goal anytime soon. She is expelling too much of her liquid gold” after which he continued to fulfil his duty.

“Let me have a better look. Continue” his master said.

How he knew what he was doing. He always knew. A more cunning man than his cunning appearance even suggested. Knowing you were on full display did cause you to startle, but the delicateness of Ivan’s movements soon took over.

“Ivan?” he growled.

“Yes, my lord?” while continuing to suck.

“Why are your fingers in her cunt?” he said laced with a tone of annoyance.

“Uhm…” as he removed his fingers instantly. “A matter of habit sir.” He answered like he was caught doing something naughty.

“I will show you how it is done” as he pushed Ivan away.

“Sir, please. Leave some for me” Ivan said, trying to find out how he could participate without taking the pleasure of his master away. The men had fought in battle together, finding ways out while being under fire. They could master this situation as well.

“Ivan, you have misunderstood the assignment. If you are thirsty, grab something to drink. It is about comparing who is best at fucking her.”

The men stood up to start arguing. They had always added physical intimidation to their discussions. In the process, they started to ignore you, allowing you to recoup again. The concubine that had been sitting at the end of the platform moved slowly to you, lifting your head up her lap, petting your hair. She felt you panting. She knew how relentless the young lord could be. How he could push his female companions to their limits. She wanted to help you, support you, recover. She was a dear friend. In her arms you felt yourself slipping away into a deep rest, which was her trigger to try to get you covered up again.

As she started, you felt a hand yet again on your ankle, pulling you away from her, again.

“Don’t. Intervene. Ever” Feyd-Rautha said punishingly, causing her to scurry away. “I will give you your punishment after the party” he promised.

You would have been perfectly happy calling it a night, but that was not your destiny this evening.

Feyd-Rautha looked upon you, still holding your ankle. “Neither do I believe she will be responsive enough anytime soon to be a good judge.”

After giving it some thought he said: “explain to me how you fuck a woman on her back, and I will do the same. That will show us who is best.”

Ivan nodded: “I can agree with that, sir.” Looking at his lord, he asked: “may I?”

“Yes, Ivan. Here you go” as he gave your ankle to Ivan to position himself.

You decided to help out and spread your legs while placing your feet on the matrass. Ivan positioned himself between your legs and started his process: “sir, I would first of course check whether the lady is wet enough to have me. It is otherwise not pleasurable for either of us. But I will skip that for now, as she is.”

Feyd-Rautha hummed, as he had placed himself next to the bed to look at you, pushing his swollen cock back into his pants. He too needed to recoup, although he would never admit it.

As Ivan placed himself at your entrance, he continued: “typically, I would proceed quite gently. Allowing the lady to open herself up to me. Although it can be interesting to know I am hitting her cervix, it causes her pain, which again, makes it less pleasurable for either of us.”

“Continue” the na-Baron said, as he had placed his hands on his hips to observe.

“With the tip of my cock placed at her entrance, I do not need any support any more. A woman like this makes a man like me hard enough to do without any guidance.” He had placed his fingers on your folds and explained: “depending on how wet she is, I will either push her open with my fingers or not. Like this” as he showed how he would do that.

“But in this case, this little treat does not need that. She is wet and open enough already. So, I just push myself in, like so” as he did exactly that.

“With sweetness so ready for me like she is, there is not need for patience” as he started his relentless pace. You curled your back and grabbed the sheets again. It was all still so sensitive and here you were being slaughtered again. Yet, it felt so good, knowing also this was being condoned by your concubinator.

“I see. Not bad” Feyd-Rautha said with genuine interest. “There are however a few things you can improve on. I will show you.” Ivan left you and moved away to give the na-Baron room.

“You need to look at the state of a woman. This one here is nearly done. Or even done. She would like to curl up like ball” as he grabbed your hips and pushed his clothed hard cock against you. “Don’t you, my darling?” he said, for the first time in a while addressing you. Ever sensitive for your position, you knew what to say: “never, my lord. I will cherish all benevolence you have to share with me.”

“She is lying, Ivan. That is perfectly fine. I want my pets loyal. I want them to sacrifice themselves for me. For my pleasure. And that is exactly what she is doing.” Pinching your hips, he addressed you again: “a good little pet you are.” Looking at Ivan he continued: “I have fucked her bloody, raw. I have fucked her so hard that she ran out of moisture, and she still would not try to refuse me.” Crawling over you, he whispered: “because you know I treat you like a good master. And because you know you would not survive that.”

Standing up straight again: “the first step, Ivan, is to set the right atmosphere. Half of how well you fuck does not come from your cock, but from enticing their heads.” Moving his lips to your neck: “you would not survive that, because you could not live without my cock. You need it, as you need air and water, don’t you, my precious darling?”

You moaned agreeingly.

“Speak” as he placed his teeth on your neck, and applied pressure.

“Yes, Feyd. I would die without your cock” you said, still happy for the moments you got to replenish your energy, as you knew this was anything from over.

“So, that’s where we start, Ivan. With their heads.” He opened his trousers again. “With that out of the way, I will now proceed to fuck her. But, I like my pets needy. Yearning for me. They need to be addicted to me. This means I need to get her to crave me again. Her body will adapt. It will start to seek for a high again. And I will not be giving that anytime soon. The longer I delay their peak, the better their peak is. That is what makes my cock so addictive.”

“Look at how slowly I will push myself in her. There is no need for speed. Her walls are already tired.” Under Ivan’s watchful eye, Feyd-Rautha sheathed himself in you, centimetre by centimetre. “And if you pay close attention, you will see how she starts to move. She is now positioning herself to have me hit her most sensitive bits.” As you did exactly that, involuntarily, he pointed out: “see? How she tilts her hips, how she opens her legs, how she tries to draw me in by pushing her butt just out a bit? If I do this well enough, I don’t have to move at all. She will do all the work.”

“Sir. I must say that I am impressed” Ivan complemented.

“I will show you one other trick, Ivan” as he removed himself from you. “Here, hold her leg just a bit wider” and pointing at his other concubine: “you hold this one.” He placed his hand under your behind and moved you to the edge of the matrass, allowing him to stand. With your legs wide open, your cunt had no place to hide. Ivan could not help himself but dip his finger in you for a taste of the sweetness that had got him enticed.

“I will keep one hand under her back, tilting her backwards. The other hand will stay on her hip to help me stabilise”, as he thrashed in you again. Thrusting harder and harder, deeper and deeper. He hit the front of your walls with new found energy. It was overwhelming. Being taken by your lord in front of Ivan. The men competing over who could fuck you best. The deep vibrations coming from the music. Being on full display while your master taught his soldier. While your master taught everyone in the room. It was as if your mind had left your body, as you looked up the mirror filled ceiling of the platform to see yourself being fucked.

You saw your lord look at Ivan again: “if you pay close attention, you can see my cock protruding through her belly” his balls slapping violently against you. “Here, place your hand on her abdomen.”

As Ivan complied, he gasped. It was as if he felt the cock of Feyd-Rautha hit his hand. He felt the power that was behind each thrust. Knowing the distance from your entrance to where he had his hand. Seeing you unfold again in pure chaos, how you submitted to the na-Baron, how you were willing to break down just for his pleasure, Ivan could not do anything else but accept that he was bested: “sir, may I ask you to teach me?”

+++

After note: sorry, I could not help myself and add some Feyd-Rautha Managerial Examples. And yes, the favourite of our favourite is also Ivan’s favourite.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Noisy thing 💀

[psycheetamore]

Phew.... 🥵

Young God | Feyd-Rautha

The mercy you show towards an enemy in the aftermath of battle yields tragic consequences for you and your people.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen!Reader, Kynes!Reader, Kidnapping, Unrequited Love, Mentions of cannibalism, Knife Play, Masochism

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

The aftermath of battle is often the same ritual. Corpses are taken away to scavenge for bounty and salvage the water in their bodies. Moisture is too precious, too rare in the air and the dry desert sand covering your home world to be wasted. Harkonnen foot soldiers especially. No sympathy is spared for the cruel beasts who slaughter your fellow fremen, ravage your land, and bleed your beloved home planet Arrakis of its most valuable resource. The Spice. 

Today is one of these days. After fending off another attack by the Harkonnen army, your entire tribe is sifting through the desert fields. The proud white-skinned soldiers weren’t expecting the swarm of Fremen that unleashed upon them. Thankfully Muad'Dib had a vision of the attack and managed to convince enough of your people to raise their blades in unison to stand against their oppressors. While you balk at violence, preferring to stay back and sink into your role as a healer, you still wish to offer assistance in cleaning up the battlefield and checking for any potential injuries. You were a little shocked when you arrived and were struck with the realization that there is so little for you to do, the number advantage having been so overwhelming.

Still, you find a few warriors that require medical attention. Their injuries are deeper than you expect. Apparently one of the Harkonnen soldiers wouldn’t let himself be slain, unleashing a storm of fury all on his own and taking several down with him. You gingerly finish dressing your last wound, lifting your head as you notice your cousin heading north. 

Wiping the blood on your hands with a rag, you get to your feet.

“Chani, where are you going?” you inquire.

She stares ahead, crysknife in hand, determined.

“Some may have survived and slipped away from us. We’re checking the caves nearby.”

You give a nod and follow after her. “I’ll come with you.”

While your voice didn’t waver earlier, your stomach is in knots as you join the search. You and Chani split up. She points in a direction and you acquiesce, rushing the opposite way. You sneak underground, climbing down a row of steep, slippery rocks before you find a small cave.

You practically have to crawl the rest of the way inside, the lichen-draped overhang almost too bent and crooked for you to advance any further. It’s no wonder no one thought to check this place. It’s hard to imagine any wounded Harkonnen soldier gathering the strength to hide in such a place.

You’re forced to swallow your words however when you find the outline of a pale form lying across the cave floor. 

Your jaw drops. You inch closer to the corpse, already planning on calling another Fremen to help you extract the water from the body.

But the man’s chest lifts, his mouth shuddering ever-so-slightly.

Tamping down your fear, you hunker down and inspect his armor. Your brows knit. A long, deep jagged cut slashes his side. The kind of deadly injury that makes you wonder how the man is still breathing, as it’s impossible no internal organs haven't at least been nicked. 

Yet, somehow he is, still breathing that is.

Though you gather not for long based on the way blood gushes from the wound. 

You hear your name called from outside the cave. Pulse soaring, you climb your way out of the concealed shelter with haste. 

You’re faced with Chani’s questioning stare. She must be done with her own search. You note the tinge of crimson on the tip of her blade. Your insides wrench. 

The lie flows from your tongue with frightening ease.

“I already checked that one. It’s empty.”

She nods and walks away. You wait for her to be at a safe distance to return inside the cave.

As your slow, fearful steps bring you closer to the wounded man, your mind rages, at war with itself.

You are of two worlds. Daughter of the fallen Liet-Kynes, imperial planetologist, and a member of the Sietch Tabr. The Harkonnen are your people’s ancestral enemies. Oppressors who annihilate whoever stands between them and their unquenchable thirst for more wealth and power.

They are monsters. There is only one rational thing to do when one is faced with one of the pale-skinned warriors. Only one thing that is right to do.

You unsheathe the crysknife at your thigh from its scabbard. The blade is shimmery and new. So perfectly sharp. For you have never used it. Not even once.

You approach his unmoving form and lift the blade high in the air.

The crysknife in your hands quivers above his chest. It’d be so easy to end it. So quick. Over within a few minutes. You’ve seen countless members of your sietch do it, not a sliver of hesitation in their smooth, practiced motions. Some even enjoy it, reveling in seeing that spark wither in their enemies’ eyes. 

For a moment, you let yourself wonder, picture yourself snugly gripping the blade and driving it through the Harkonnen’s alabaster throat. The watery coughs he’d let out. The blood seeping from his neck and pooling around him. The light in his onyx orbs flickering before going out.

It should satisfy you. After all the evils they’ve inflicted upon your people, upon your planet, the prospect of retribution should fill you with immeasurable joy. 

Yet it doesn’t. Chest heaving, you slowly lower the weapon until it slips out of your hands, its clattering echoing in the cave.

Your shoulders sag as you unleash a tremulous breath, one you didn’t notice was even caged inside your lungs.

An unyielding truth swaddles you as you watch your pale-skinned enemy draw feeble, dwindling breaths. You can’t take a life. You are a healer, through and through.

You gasp when you suddenly feel the cold bite of metal against your throat.

Your eyes widen. The Harkonnen is awake, heavy, wheezing breaths bursting from his chest as he presses the blade against your neck.

“I-If you kill me, you will not survive,” you stammer, your chest clenching in fear. 

He shocks you by flipping the blade and handing it to you.

“Then give me a warrior’s death,” he says, his gaze unwavering. You study him. He looks worse than before. What he just did must have taken his last bit of strength. 

Steadying your hammering heart, you glower at him.

“The glory you seek isn’t in a dank cave, Harkonnen.”

As soon as he collapses over the cold, hard stones, you get to work. First, you check his pulse. Though it’s faint, you find a steady heartbeat. He must be quite strong, you surmise. You’ve never seen anyone survive this long with an injury this deep. Logically, he should be dead. 

But he isn’t. So while you shouldn’t feel this way, every fiber of your being craves to pull him from the brink. 

You peel the layers of his armor off him. Heat nestles inside your cheeks as your gaze roams over the hard, defined planes of his muscular form. You shake off the sensation, reminding yourself that you can’t proceed unless you have complete access to the wound and need to assess for other potential injuries.

You reach for your medpak and pouch. You use a mix of wound sealant and medicinal herbs to curb the bleeding. You then clean the wound with antiseptic and press onto it firmly. Eventually, it stops. Once the bleeding is under control, you pull out a needle and thread from your pouch and begin sewing the wound. Every stitch is nice and neat, so tight that you know he will barely scar. You squint as you work, the dim lighting of the cave making you miss the right spot in his skin a few times. You keep a cool head the entire time, simply starting over whenever necessary.

After the wound is sealed, you set up a hypovial with a plasma bag. Finding the bulging vein in his arm isn’t too hard. It’s quite easy in fact, as every part of him appears carved from stone. You slip a dash of spice melange in the IV. A potent cinnamon smell fills the air. Just the right amount to keep him awake. Now that his life isn’t on the line anymore, his peculiar body chemistry should do the rest and recover.

You unleash a deep breath and wipe the sweat doting your forehead. You sag against the cave wall.

Your eyes drift to the night sky, visible through a small opening in the overhang.

For the first time since you snuck inside the cave, the tension woven through your limbs comes loose.

Nights on Arrakis are a thing of beauty. You are willing to bet there are no more beautiful skies in the entire galaxy. None so clear and vast and with stars twinkling this bright. Mother used to say the same thing, that the boundless empyreans of Arrakis were the most beautiful sight she ever laid eyes upon. And as an imperial envoy, your mother traveled far across the known universe. So she must have been right.

You cast one last glance at the Harkonnen warrior. He’s stable. Or stable enough at least. 

It’s time for you to return to your sietch before too many questions are asked.

“You were gone a while,” your cousin blurts out when you return to your sietch. You weigh her tone. There is no suspicion laced in it, just curiosity.

“I was just making sure we didn’t forget any of them,” you casually reply.

Chani heaves out a deep sigh. “You don’t have to. You have no heart for killing, cousin.” She turns her focus to the rest of your tribe. “We need you here, tending to our wounded. It’s where you shine best.”

You nod in acknowledgement. No one in the sietch ever expected you to fight but you often wish that you could do more. You think of your mother’s untimely death, of the way Fremen laid down their lives today. Your heart sinks. If anyone learned of what you did, you would be exiled. Rightfully so. Your eyes wander to your cousin, now besides Paul Atreides. Longing gazes lock and fingers twine before they disappear into their shared tent. You look away.

You hope one day that twisting inside your chest whenever you see them will cease. You are happy for them; you truly are. Nevermind that you felt a pull towards the heir of House Atreides from the moment you met him, that you felt it was returned when his gaze rested upon you. That all of it vanished the moment his eyes crossed Chani’s.

A seer from your tribe foretold that a woman in your family would have a great destiny, one that will change the fate of worlds. You now understand, that woman is Chani, and she and Paul aren’t just destined to one another. They are fated.

And who are you to stand in the way of fate?

“You must be insane, girl,” the Harkonnen soldier scoffs as you remove the needle in his arm. Since he appears to have regained some color…or whatever consists of “color” for a Harkonnen, you elected to remove the plasma bag this morning.

A sliver of shame flutters through you that you were almost relieved to find him alive. You saved a life. Perhaps not the most worthy one, but a life nonetheless.

“Striking an enemy while he’s down isn’t brave,” you reply with nonchalance.

A crooked smirk cants his plump lips, baring a hint of the black teeth underneath.

“Insane and stupid then,” he sneers, the gristly echo of his voice resonating in the cave.

Ignoring the way his comment chafes you, you retrieve the little vials you packed this morning.

“Drink that.” He sits up, humming low in his throat with the movement when you’d expect him to wince or groan at the pain. It’s almost like he’s enjoying the pain he surely must be experiencing, but you discard that thought, because it’s ludicrous. What kind of person enjoys pain? “It’s water.” He studies you, making no move to grab the water. You fidget, unnerved that you can’t read his expression, his lack of eyebrows making it even more difficult. “I could only steal a little from the deathstill. It’s all I could get before anyone could see me.”

You briefly considered trading your mother’s water rings, the ones you inherited upon her death. The symbol of her standing and wealth within the Sietch Tabr.

Though while you may have saved your enemy, you want to hold on to that piece of her for as long as you can.

“I also have some food.” You rummage through your pouch to pull out dried fruits, slices of meats, bread and spice honey. It’s the best you could gather on short notice without drawing suspicion.

His dark gaze flicks over you as he taunts, “Perhaps I shall eat you. You look far more appetizing than…whatever this is.” You shudder, acutely aware that while cannibalism isn’t widespread amongst the Harkonnen…it’s also not unheard of. 

He snickers at your expression. “Do not fret, desert rose.” His gravelly voice drips with suggestion as he licks his lips. A chill runs through you as his black tongue and teeth are bared to you. “I’m not quite that hungry…yet.”

Your shift, discomfort slithering through you. There is something profoundly unsettling about the Harkonnen, even more so than a typical one. The blood leaking through the bandage draws your gaze.

“I should dress your wound and redo the stitching,” you offer, clearing your throat.

When your hand stretches towards his wound, he growls at you.

Your heart leaps and you retreat your hand.

“Please,” you insist. “You’re bleeding.”

When he doesn’t make another threatening sound, you take that as your cue. You quickly gather your supplies and approach him. The drumming of your heart inside your ears is a clamor, but you pretend it isn’t there, removing the bandage and driving the needle through his wound to sew it shut again. He doesn’t flinch, showing no hint of even feeling the needle. His sizzling scrutiny sears through your flesh, almost causing your usually steady hands to quake. You sharpen your focus, remembering your grandmother’s teachings. Steady heart, steady hands.

He tilts his head, dark gaze trained on you. “I threaten to eat you and you tend to me still. What a peculiar creature you are, desert rose.”

The days fly by in a strange haze, your days spent preparing for the new Reverend Mother while you sporadically check on the stranger. He recovers faster than you expect, even without you needing to use the spice melange again. Considering he was at death’s door when you found him, you can’t help but be a little amazed.

You sense the time to go your separate ways is near. You have done a lot, likely more than you should. The alabaster-skinned warrior is well enough to roam the desert and find his way back to his people through his own means. You brought him supplies, food and a stillsuit. Whatever befalls him will be up to fate and his own wits. You don’t plan on returning after tonight.

“You’re looking better,” you note, checking his wound for the last time. You leave the bandage for good measure even if it’s clear he doesn’t need it anymore, the wound having begun to fade since you removed his stitches yesterday.

He pins you with that unsettling stare once more.

“That song you sang…” he rumbles.

“A song?” Your head tilts as you comb through your memories. It comes back to you. You sometimes hum it to yourself. It calms you down. You didn’t even realize you’d done it in his presence. “Ah, that song.” You shrug, a small smile sneaking onto your lips. “It’s just a lullaby my grandmother used to sing to me before she passed, to teach children about the Shai-Hulud.”

He looks at you in what you believe to be confusion at the name, though you can only assume.

“Your people call them… sandworms,” you explain. “They are sacred and should be revered.”

Silence hangs between you and the Harkonnen. His deep raspy voice shatters it after some time.

“Songs…I had a blade in my hands from the moment I could walk.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, unsure what else to say. He doesn’t seem sad, more reflective, but it seems you should say something. “Do you…Do you ever think of what your life would be like if you weren’t Harkonnen?” When he looks at you blankly, a nervous laugh peals from your lips. “I’m sorry. That was a silly question.”

Your crysknife materializes in his hands from behind his back. Your blood runs cold as you pat your thigh. You don’t remember ever leaving it around him.

“My older brother...He took me from our parents when I was a baby,” he utters, sounding detached, almost as if he were recounting someone else’s life. “My uncle raised me. I don’t remember my father. And my mother…” His lightless gaze slams into yours as he smiles, exposing his glistening, black teeth. “I killed that whimpering, meddling bitch.”

Your breath snags in your throat. Perhaps…you let yourself get too comfortable around the Harkonnen. The crude reminder of who he is, who they all are, yanks you back to reality.

You bolt to your feet, coaxing a tremulous smile onto your face.

“It’s getting late. I should return home before the sandstorms grow too strong.”

As you prepare to leave, the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps above you freezes you in your tracks. Your eyes bulge. Dread sinks within you as you realize someone’s right above you.

Before a single sound can make its way past your lips, the Harkonnen’s large hand envelops your mouth. He pulls you flush against his bare chest as he whispers into your ear, “Quiet.”

His muscles go taut against you. You catch him twirling the blade with smooth precision, clearly ready to fight if need be. You hold your breath, bridling your stuttering heartbeats.

Two men in full Harkonnen livery leap inside the cave. Panic rushes through you.

However, instead of a fight breaking out, relief fills the soldier’s faces as they see him. 

“Na-baron. We received your beacon.”

Na-Baron…The air is knocked from your lungs. The title isn’t that common amidst the known universe. In fact, it’s quite unique and you only ever heard of one man from one specific house using it. Na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the heir-designate to Baron Vladmir Harkonnen. 

He is a monster, a ruthless killer…and you nursed him back to health. Allowed him to get well enough to hurt, maim and kill as he pleases. The cave seems to twirl off its axis around you.

Perhaps he was right that night. You might be an insane idiot.

You feel the subtle lift of his lips against your scalp.

“Right. Did I forget to mention my name?” he taunts, as if he could read every thought zooming across your head. Giving you no time to even try to run or fight him off, the na-Baron slams your head against a nearby wall.

Pain explodes inside your skull. Your vision dims as you grow too weak to stand, your knees buckling beneath you. You fall into his arms and he holds you against him. He strokes the side of your face, a fire burning in his onyx orbs. Consciousness slips from you, his last words reverberating inside your ears.

“You and I are going home to Giedi Prime, my desert rose.”

You awake startled, jarred by the softness of the sheets and the largeness of the bed around you. This is nothing like the cot you used to sleep on in the desert. You leap from the bed, clutching your face and hugging your frame, stunned to note you are without your stillsuit and face mask.

Instead, you are wearing a sheer white tunic that hugs your curves in a way that leaves very little to the imagination. The outfit is unlike you, impractical in every way. Your pulse escalates.

You rush to rise and nearly crash down on the bed again. 

Your forehead creases.

You wobble around, struck by the difference in gravitational pull, humidity and atmospheric pressure. Every breath you take exerts you, bearing heavily on your lungs.

Your head spins as you glance at the unfamiliar room. Every single detail of it is cold, somber, opulent.

Horror twists your insides.

You’re not on Arrakis anymore.

“You’re in the Harkonnen keep, darling.” 

The gravelly voice erupting at your back has you whirl around. A half-exposed Feyd-Rautha fills your sight, his carved alabaster muscles and bald head shimmering silver in the low light.

You swallow hard, fighting to keep yourself breathing normally in the brand new air.

“The Harkonnen Keep on…”

“Giedi Prime, yes,” Feyd-Rautha finishes.

While you understood it on your own, having it uttered out loud sends you in a renewed state of alarm. You are away from your family, your friends, your home. You are alone on a foreign planet. A hostile, enemy planet.

“In secluded apartments away from my other concubines,” he further informs. A shadow of mirth lurks in his gaze. “They’re quite the jealous kind. They may even try to take a bite out of you if they learn of your existence…” He leers at your shivering frame, making no effort to hide his lust, the evidence already bulging in his pants. “Though I don’t think I could entirely blame them.”

He inches closer to you. “How does the weight of a real planet feel?” he asks, a twisted excitement swaying in his dark orbs. “Is it crushing your bones? Is every cell in your body screaming in pain, my desert rose?” He grips your chin, studying you oddly, almost as if he wishes he could absorb every bit of your agony and discomfort.

You glare up at him, your insides white hot with rage.

“H-How could you do this? I saved you.”

He frames your chin, squeezing tightly. “Oh darling, you should have killed me…” A squeak spills from your throat as he drags his tongue across the side of your quivering cheek. His lips brush over your earshell as he mumbles under his breath. “Because there’s nowhere in the galaxy you will ever be able to hide from me now.”

“I belong in Arrakis with my people. You have to let me go,” you plead. 

You search his impassive face, scouring for an errant ounce of humanity. The emptiness you find has tears rushing to your eyes. You mourn the tragic loss of moisture, willing yourself to stop crying. Ever since you were young, you were taught never to waste your precious water...especially on something as trivial, as painfully unnecessary as tears.

...But you can't quell your weeping.

He tilts his head.

“You belong with me…No, to me, desert rose. In my arms, screaming as I ruin that pretty cunt of yours with my cock.”

Fear floods your entire being. Your eyes scan the room. A faint spark of hope blooms inside you as you spot a long, sharp knife on a stone table nearby.

Pushing past the queasiness you experience every time you move on the unfamiliar planet, you race across the room and grab the knife.

You point it at him. Instead of cowering, Feyd-Rautha opens his arms, smirking.

“Do it,” he urges, making no effort to protect himself from the sharp blade in your hand, inviting you to strike him as his tongue darts across his lips.

His uncanny anticipation coats the air. Confusion fills you.

“I will,” you say, trying to appear braver than you feel. Still, the blade quakes in your hand.

“Please. I beg of you,” he purrs, gliding towards you. As he watches you hesitate, he cruelly reminds you, “You will never go home, never see your beloved planet again. In fact,...” He hums, his eyes lighting up as if a wonderful idea just occurred to him. “I think I might slaughter some of your family and friends just for sport.”

A wave of wrath surges through you. Bereft a thought behind it, your hand slashes across his chest, a small cut forming there. Droplets of blood so dark it appears black drip down onto his alabaster flesh. 

“More…” he rasps, pleasure leaking from his gravelly voice.

The sight of the bleeding wound rattles you, causing you to retreat.

But he doesn’t let you remove the blade, his fingers cinching around your wrist and keeping its sharp tip over his bulging pec. You sob as he forces you to drag the blade across his chest, a blissful expression spreading across his features. A long dark cut oozing dark red blood decorates his body now, going all the way to his defined abs.

Terror and confusion tangle within you. You stagger backwards, the dagger slipping from your lingers and hitting the floor.

“You’re sick.”

“I didn’t realize there was such a fire inside you, desert rose. If I don’t have you now, I think I’ll go mad.” His hoarse, lewd tone scrapes against your eardrums, causing your insides to twist in dread. He cracks his neck, black tongue sweeping over his lips as he approaches you. “No, I definitely will.”

It’s the only warning you get before he tosses you on the bed and rips the clothes off your frame. Tears brimming your lashes, you squeal in protest, scratching and punching every part of him within reach. You slap him hard and he cackles, baring his black smile in sheer delight. 

“Come on, desert rose, I’m sure you can hit even harder,” he sneers. 

To make him eat his words, you hit him again. Harder than before. His laugh gets louder as you watch a faint bruise form on his cheek.

Pinning your wrists besides your head, he bends over your chest. His tongue swirls around your nipples, his cool tongue causing you to hiss and shake. Sharp teeth graze your breast and the breath hitches in your throat. You squirm on the sheets, completely at the mercy of Feyd-Rautha as he licks, bites and kisses every part of your flesh. As if he wanted you covered in marks of his ownership, wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind that you were his if they stole a glance at you. You loathe the way your traitorous body writhes and pants, a disgusting dampness gathering at the apex of your thighs. 

The tears in your eyes swell. Your body is divorcing your frazzled mind little by little, yielding to his rough, wanton touch. 

He grabs your thighs and dips between your legs, diving straight for your center. He licks a long stripe up and down your folds and you tremble. As his devilish tongue swirls around your clit, your eyes flutter, blinding pleasure building in your core. Hot waves of delight engulf you as he gathers your arousal with his tongue and drags it around your tender spot. The slow, unrelenting patterns he traces with his mouth have you fight the urge to buck your hips into his jaw. Your juices drench the entire bottom of his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind, greedily devouring your cunt as if he’ll never get to do it again.

As you quiver against him, your orgasm flowing through you, he chuckles against your wet cunt.

“Your body can’t even deny how much it craves me, desert rose.”

Shame pulses through you with his words.

He crawls over you, cutting his pants loose with one aggressive shove downwards. Only a glimpse of his thick alabaster cock, glazed with his need at the tip appears in your vision before he shoves the entirety of himself in you. The pain is so intense, flames alongside your walls, that it robs the words from your throat. He sinks inside you until his tight balls chafe your cunt, his hand wrapping around your throat while the other keeps your wrists above your head.

You whimper beneath him, defenseless against his sharp, piercing thrusts. Pleasure builds within you, his cock overwhelming you with shameful sensations each time it grazes your sensitive places, making you see stars. Gargled sounds pour from your throat as his girth splits you apart.

He grunts as your walls constrict around him, slamming into you even harder.

“You’re so delightfully tight around me, darling.” He bends over you to whisper, “I bet I’ll turn you into my perfect little cock-hungry whore in no time. Have you on your back and knees for me whenever I wish it.”

The Harkonnen heir’s pace fastens, his cock hitting spots that have you question your sanity. So delicious that you can’t help but let pathetic little moans escape from your throat.

He buries himself inside you even deeper, the pain and pleasure blending in crescendo. Your eyes roll back as you near your peak. Meanwhile, Feyd Rautha’s hunting his own release, his quick thrusts growing sharp and slow, his bald head grazing your bare chest.

Pleasure rolls over in a tidal wave, your back curling alongside the sheets. His own release comes after yours, thick ropes of his seeds painting your sore, sensitive walls. 

As you crash in a boneless heap on the sheets, he wraps his hand around your jaw and steals your lips for a sloppy, heated kiss. 

You cry out in pain as he sinks his teeth into your neck, placing a visible puncture wound that won’t disappear for a while.

Still nestled in your warmth, he scatters more bites along your shoulder.

“Any man would be insane to let you go after tasting such a sweet cunt, desert rose.”

You know he wants you to see, doesn’t want you to miss a single second of the spectacle. It was a split second moment, one that could have easily resulted in his death. 

But at the very last second, Feyd-Rautha prevailed and dodged Paul Atreides’ attack. He then proceeded to stab him in the heart in front of his heartbroken mother and your cousin. 

You don’t want to believe it. It must be an awful dream, one you will soon wake up from. One that lasted entirely too long. While seeing Paul’s body sink to the floor, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces…Watching Chani glare at you with pure hatred in her eyes from across the room is almost worse. You want to run to her, embrace her, tell her you never meant to leave, tell her you aren’t a traitor to your people despite what clothes you may wear now, what marks may brand your skin. 

But it’s all for naught. Paul is dead and with him the hopes for your planet, for your people have died as well.

And you are left with nothing, no one. A stranger in a strange world. 

It’s what he reminds you as he has you caged beneath him that night, burying himself inside you again and again with abandon. 

“You’re mine, desert rose. And nothing, no one can take you away from me. Not my uncle. Not Paul Atreides. Not the Emperor.” He chuckles darkly, whispering against your ear. “...And not even you, darling.”

He is right. You are his. And with no one to challenge the rule of the now Baron Feyd-Rautha, ruler of House Harkonnen, it is as he said…There is nowhere in the galaxy you can hide where he will not find you.

[psycheetamore]

I am starting a Go Fund Me to organise lessons to allow him to learn how to button up and be demure and stuff

Strutting around like this... getting all of us uhm energised and stuff... pffff

A lot of money will be needed, knowing our man would ideally strut around like this 👇

[austinbutlerslovers]

Feral for Feyd

[he enjoyed the taste]