#for he is the kwisatz haderach | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

austinbutlerslovers · 11 months ago

Text

Feyd Fantasy

Label mature 18+

Pleasure & Pain

Summary

The destiny guiding Bene Gesserits select you to marry Feyd Rautha. The nephew to the Baron of the great house Harkonnen.

You will secure an heir for their selective genetics program to try again for an all powerful being. A Kwisatz Haderach with the ability to see through all space and time, past, present, and future.

Feyd was set to be married with an Atredies female to secure the birth of the Kwisatz Haderach but the plan failed when House Atredies birthed a male. Now the Bene Gesserits must salvage Feyd Rauthas genetics through your impregnation for another chance.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen however is psychotic, sadistic and sick. On your wedding night he tortures and breeds you mercilessly to procure his heir.

Established relationship new wife

Starts off heavy Sci Fi Dune Ends with sexual insanity

⚠️ Hardcore Smut ⚠️

Sexual torture•manhandling•male dominance •restraints•shibari•ownership•humiliation•knife play sex toys•nipple play•mentions of blood •mentions of being stabbed•mentions of bodily fluids•vaginal vasodilation •overstretching•overstimulation•orgasm denial•clit play•oral sex on female•squirting• multiple orgasms•cum eating•ovulation sex•sex in heat• size kink•breeding kink•multiple cream pies

⚠️Pure Feyd Rautha breeding smut ⚠️ ✍🏼 Proof-writer @faegoddessog

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

⏳Extreme Dune Inaccuracies⌛️. UPDATE: confirmed it’s pretty Dune accurate with the Bene Gesserit Breeding program 🏆 💝Not for my softies🆕 Skip to Austins Bath ➡️

Inspo: ⚔️Multiple anonymous requests combined: -unsuspecting female -mysteriously drawn to him -merged houses/marriage -female of nobility -ovulating female in heat -Feyd Pain Dom -Feyd Pleasure Dom -Knife play no gore - Feyds cock description -Oral sex squirting on Feyds tongue -Brutal breeding sex -Womb Implantation

✍🏼 written & corrected with @faegoddessog 👑

Pleasure & Pain

The Bene Gesserit breeding program failed when house Atreides birthed a male instead of a female. After centuries of breeding to join House Harkonnen and house Atreides to create a Kwisatz Haderach all seemed nearly lost.

The Kwisatz Haderach would be an all powerful being able to see through time, space, past, present, and future to control destiny. With the Atreides male assumed dead the Bene Gesserit order take a desperate measure to ensure they can try for a Kwisatz Haderach again. They will salvage the desirable genetics of the young Harkonnen heir, Feyd Rautha for the next generation.

When you are called to see your leader the reverend mother you are not expecting to be the female chosen to carry the genetics for the future Kwisatz Haderach.

You are a devoted young Bene Gesserit with the proper bloodline from noble houses. You will be impregnated by Feyd Rautha and continue his lineage salvaging their Genetics program.

The decision has already been made with an arranged marriage to be held on his planet, Giedi Prime. Everything must be done hastily before anything unexpected happens to the body of Feyd Rautha. Should he die they will lose their chance.

They arrange the wedding before his upcoming fight in the arena to kill his 100th gladiator. They can not risk the error if he is slaughtered.

Not only are you to be impregnated with his heir to secure the future Kwisatz Haderach, you must also bind his mind with a physiological fail safe using the prana-bindu phrases of your Bene Gesserit training.

The reverend mother believes they are sending you like an innocent to be defiled. Your training is not complete, your sight is barely awakened and your pain tolerance is underdeveloped.

You have not gone through the proper training crucial for long term survival with a psychopath such as Feyd. However your genetic line, with the ability to control your ovulation and select the gender of your unborn, will salvage their breeding program entirely. That is the final deciding factor.

Harkonnen Fortress Giedi Prime

Feyd Rautha’s excessive ambitions for power made him seem deranged. He would do anything to secure the throne as Baron.

He had been groomed from childhood to become the next reigning by his detestable Uncle, the current Baron. Feyd Rautha had lethal finesse and extremely seductive charm, the skills of an excellent leader.

However due to his disastrous upbringing by his lecherous uncle he was now primed to be a ruthless killing machine and sexual deviant without restraint.

He was able to suppress his blood lust and sexual debauchery from the public eye, but behind closed doors he was a bloodthirsty, pain-inflicting sadist.

Agreeing to an arranged marriage was a simple task to Feyd. It would mean the furtherance of his greater goal; becoming the Baron and perhaps, he thought, the next Emperor.

As he and his uncle sat in the meeting hall to discuss his future obligations, Feyd sat spread across his throne. His knees were parted wide, his elbows on the armrest, his back is laid low against his seat. He played with his knife inflicting pain on his finger to the point of piercing it without a change of expression.

When his uncle brought up the betrothal, Feyd Rautha didn't pay much attention. When it was decided that he would ascend to the throne, Feyd sheathed his knife and sat up listening with more intent to what his marital duties might be.

He knew that he would have to take a female with a compatible bloodline. He was in no way bound to actually care for her. The marriage would be political and aside from initial customary meetings, he didn't have to spend any time with her at all.

The first few days after the wedding they were certain to share a bed. The first night being of the utmost importance in consummating an heir. After that it would be like any other political marriage; loveless and distant.

These facts didn't bother Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, it was all part of his duty as the next Baron.

Weeks Later: Giedi Prime

You were arriving on Giedi Prime the night before your wedding day. Compared to your home world it was colder, darker, and dirtier. The buildings were enormous, gray and industrial. Heavy clouds filled the sky.

Having seen a portrait of Feyd you found his looks mysterious yet strikingly handsome. You were made aware of his sexual debauchery and brutal upbringing from several trusted sources.

They had shown concern, but were not sure the full extent of his degradation. What they did know is he was raised to be a ruthless killer and sexual deviant. He had his choice of pleasure slaves and was confirmed to be psychotic and depraved in nature.

He, however, is completely unaware of your true intentions.

His uncle was led to believe you would marry his sadistic, bloodthirsty nephew Feyd and save his bloodline which would guarantee a future for the Harkonnen dynasty.

He eagerly joined your two houses, securing his depraved psychotic nephew an heir and increasing the validity of his status simultaneously.

In reality you were sent on a mission to salvage Feyd Rauthas genetics for the Bene Gesserit breeding program which only selected the ancestral lines of great houses such as the Harkonnens for centuries.

When the deed is done you are to whisper the prana-bindu phrases in his ear as he sleeps to bend him and hypno-ligatiate his psyche. With the utterance of one specific word it would be used to weaken him to the point of complete muscle paralysis. This would be used if he ever became a threat to the Bene Gesserit plans.

With his sperm implanted in your womb you would secure the future Kwisatz Haderach for the Bene Gesserit Order.

Being part of this secret order gave you extremely special abilities. You gained control over your own biology and were able to ovulate and choose the gender of your unborn at conception.

Once Feyd penetrates you he would become addicted to your sex, and you could seduce him even further to do what the Order desired.

Wedding Ceremony

The entire courtship was hastened due to his impending gladiatorial fight and increased his risk of death. When you finally see Feyd it is in the great hall on opposite ends of the vast stage for the wedding ceremony.

As you wait for the festivities to commence you take your first long look at him waiting on the other side of the stage

He is stoic and imposing, tall and handsome. Almost in complete contrast to his repulsive uncle. The only resemblances are the pale whiteness of his skin and complete lack of hair.

Not even eyebrows frame his hunter’s eyes. He was hauntingly beautiful in this way, his high cheekbones accentuating his deep set blue eyes. His perfectly angular nose drawing your eyes to his plump full lips and defined jawline.

You had an immense attraction to him. He was regal, wearing black ceremonial garments made of elaborate fabrics showing his status and wealth.

Feeling your gaze, he turns his attention and lays eyes on you for the first time. He is astonished by your beauty.

He had no initial interest in seeing your appearance. Now with his sights on you he is fascinated. You have defiant, piercing eyes and beautiful features without ornament. He feels something stir in him, though he was stripped of his emotions long ago. What remained now was a ruthless fighter and soon to be Baron.

You wore a white hooded gown, though he could still see your healthy radiant hairline. The vibrance of your face and hands, the only skin visible to him, is soft and delicate. The shape of your body in the tightness of the form fitting gown impresses him greatly.

He is very pleased you will belong to him. Though he tries to hide it a maniacal smile forms across his lips. He will defile you in so many ways on the wedding night, training your body to obey him or be punished. A perfect pet he thought, unsuspecting, of high-born status, and far prettier than his others.

You are both called together to join on stage in front of his uncle the Baron. Tens of thousands of the populous cheer in the Great hall as you embrace Feyd for the first time.

You both stand together and offer your arms to the Baron’s Lord in waiting. He locks each of your wrists to the end of an indestructible chain and bestows the key to Feyd Rautha. You face the crowd holding your hands up together making the chain taught.

"Like the unbreakable chain our everlasting union" Feyd yells and the crowd erupts into even bigger cheers. You gaze into each other's eyes full of passionate promise to each other.

"I will make Feyd the new emperor!" The Baron yells to the crowd caught in the fervor of seeing his nephew and protege increase in status before his eyes.

Feyd pulls out his ceremonial sword from his hip looking into the crowd as he lifts it in the air. "And I will slay my 100th warrior in the gladiator arena in dedication to the Future Baroness," he yells his strongest.

The crowd erupts into loud chants for Feyd. It is customary for him to fight in the arena to show his valor. He and his uncle used the grand display of fights to their advantage, gaining favor with the populous. The Baron would always tip the odds in favor of Feyd to win.

Later that evening you return to your chambers after the wedding banquet. The elaborate affair was full of entertainment crowded with the Harkonnen inner circle. With conversations, food, and several cheers of congratulations, you and Feyd only caught glimpses of each other throughout the entire event. It was now time to prepare for the wedding night

You were bathed and styled by two servants and wore a sheer white sleeved gown. You are completely bare underneath. The thinness of the shimmering fabric is near invisible, showing your breasts and bare genitalia.

Once the slaves leave your chamber it allows you a moment to collect your thoughts and begin your mission.

You call upon your Bene Gesserit blood with intuition of your inner workings in your mind, seeking out and triggering your ovulation to start. With controlled precision, you will the fluids in the rest of your body to comply.

It was done, you are primed and ready for impregnation.

You leave your bed chamber and the servants place a black cloak over your shoulders clasping it in the front to cover your modesty.

Feyds Chamber

The fortress is massive, you walk through several passages and corridors until you reach Feyds quarters. It is a large two story section with a grand staircase leading down to a courtyard. An accompanying servant presses an alert at the base of the stairs. They both bow and hastily leave your presence.

After a moment of waiting you see Feyd-Rautha come to the banister above. He gazes down at you enraptured. Even fully covered in a black cloak the excitement builds inside of him for what you look like underneath.

He wears a sleeveless black tunic tied loosely at his waist. His strong chest and abs are prominent above his black fabric slacks. In the moonlight his ivory skin is glowing making him look ethereal. He gestures with his hand for you to come. You lift the hem of your gown and climb the stairs as he watches.

Once you reach the landing he invites you inside to follow him through the large floor to ceiling double doors. When you enter he pulls them shut behind you with a resounding thud. He secures a bolt down locking you both in. You assume it's for his safety but little warnings in your mind tell you otherwise. His chamber is enormous, everything is muted gray and black, void of all color.

There is a large black open frame canopy bed in the center of his chamber. The sheets are gray with black tied curtains at each post, the headboard is padded.

Just beyond his bed is a spacious balcony overlooking the front courtyard of the fortress. There is a long table at the foot of his bed frame. An assortment of peculiar metallic devices and a coil of black rope are organized on its surface.

Two large display cases are spaced on each side of his bed which strangely face out to the balcony. There is also a second table there with a collection of more odd looking dangerous items.

He has no decor or plants or art just a dark, still, lifeless room that gives you the chills.

His eyes never left you as you entered his chamber. You turn to face him, remembering your mission. He pulls his tunic open revealing his extremely muscled physique.

You stare at his pale chiseled chest and powerful muscular arms. Your eyes linger on his hard abs and small waist as he lets his tunic fall to the floor. You are attracted to him, you can't fight your physical urges.

He comes to stand in front of you shirtless in low black fabric slacks, an empty knife holster rests on his waist.

His body is pure muscled alabaster perfection. You want to touch him everywhere.

Everything he does is so elaborate and unpredictable you can't even begin to figure out what he wants.

You start by pulling your cloak from your shoulders letting it drop to the floor revealing yourself to him.

His piercing gaze studies your form, loving the way you are physically shaped, your beautiful curves accentuated in the sheer white transparent gown.

He seductively stares at your perfect nipples already wanting to pinch them, he sees the curves beneath he's been dying to touch. He sucks his teeth, making a clicking sound, when he sees your bare genitalia, increasing his sexual urges.

Sensing he is pleased, you break the long silence, "What would you like, will you show me?" you ask and gently take his wrist. You pull his hand just shy of your body, leaving the choice to him.

His primed sadistic mentality already wants to knock your innocent confidence. He reaches his hand and places it delicately around your soft throat pressing his thumb up and down your larynx watching your reaction.

You look up into his eyes and can't form a single thought as the fear creeps in. His psychotic gaze immediately instills his dominance over you. His strength and imposing size makes you feel timid.

His squeeze on your neck begins slowly, testing when you’ll make him stop.

You instinctively reach your hands up and grab his wrist when you begin to panic. He smiles at you and slowly returns to caressing your throat gently.

"Such a delicate little pet.” he says with a grin revealing his black teeth. You are at a loss for words as you stare at him realizing everything they say about him is true.

He gazes into your soft pretty eyes and he knows you'll be different. The way your eyes plead with him, even putting up resistance holding his wrist. He smiles at your efforts trying to resist him.

Everything is in his control.

He looks over your curvature wondering how good you will feel sheathed on his cock. His eyes begin to wander over your body thinking of other ways he wants to derive his pleasure out of you.

What will agonize you the most for his sexual gratification. His eyes suddenly pause between your thighs, already wet from him. He tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

He grips your dress up at the waist and reaches his hand between your legs. He slips his fingers through your wet folds. Your body tenses, then relaxes when he knows exactly how to touch you that has your body craving it. He feels how wet you are and stops. He removes his fingers collecting what he wanted.

“Your body is so responsive to me and I haven't even begun to touch you yet,” he lifts his hand to your face showing you his glistening fingers covered in your slick wetness for him.

You've gone mute, so aroused and so terrified of him forgetting all of your training.

Seeing you can't even form words due to shock he pushes his wet fingers between your parted lips, gesturing you to suck. He abruptly snatches them out when you do and dives his lips onto yours, licking the arousal off of your tongue before the taste disappears. His breathy moan against your mouth as he enjoys it makes you go weak for him.

He's terrifying, yet beautiful as he presses his soft full lips on yours. You find yourself pining for more encouraging him to give it to you. You press your breasts against his chest and pull his small waist to yours, loving the feel of his strong muscled form against your body.

You eagerly push your mouth onto his as he kisses you. His wide tongue begins enveloping your small mouth, he gently flicks his tip against yours like a snake.

You let out a sound of pleasure from the feeling which makes him stop. He pulls back and grins. You are stunned as he leaves you where you stand and heads to the table at the foot of his giant bed. He picks up the length of black rope.

He returns to you motioning you to put your wrists out. He looms over you and binds them tightly with intricate knots. Each pull on the rope rocks your body. He works to ensure they are perfect like a work of art.

He wants them taught, to see the marks you will make as you struggle to free your wrists against the bindings. The thought of the marks he'll leave on your body to remind you of your training start to make him hard. He shakes the thought from his mind, more excited about the next part of his plan.

Sexual Torture

He smiles looking up at you. He walks backwards never breaking his gaze as he lets out a measure of rope between you two.

"Come pet" he commands and yanks you forward like an animal. You have no choice but to follow and obey.

He walks you entirely past his giant bed leading you instead out to the arch way of his balcony. Confusion forms in your mind why he would lead you here as the chill of the night air hits your body.

He looks up and loops the rope through an eye hook bolt purposefully embedded in the archway above him. He's calm and focused as he pulls the rope through the large eye, forcing you to walk closer and closer to him until your arms are being lifted directly over your head.

He bends down on one knee staring at your feet as he pulls the rope higher until your heels begin to lift up. Once you are balancing on your toes, he secures the rope to another anchor hook on the frame of the balcony.

He stands tall in front of you to check his work pulling down on your trapped wrists checking that the rope is taught. He glides his hands down your arms and over your breasts. With the night air hardening your nipples he can't resist touching them.

He pinches them and you gasp. He slowly pulls them up until you begin standing higher on your toes, the pain becoming unbearable as he nearly lifts you from the ground. "FEYD Please!" you cry out for mercy, he instantly releases them back to your body.

“Such a spoiled pet I will change that" he coos. His eyes are intense and terrifying as he stares into your soft, beautiful, panic stricken ones.

He knows he is going to mentally and physically break you into complete obedience tonight. You aren’t even able to withstand his simplest tests of endurance.

He smiles knowing you belong to him you are his spoiled little pet now. Kept perfect and beautiful, always getting her way before him. Now he will ruin you for his pleasure.

He turns from you back into his chamber, leaving you strung up in the archway. You watch his movements inside. He is physically dominanting in strength and size, a perfect killing machine. All the muscles show prominently beneath his porcelain skin.

You desperately hope he shows gentleness when he breeds you, but your instincts tell you he will only know how to be brutal. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought.

Everything he does fills you with such strong hits of fear, but there are brief moments when he looks at you, kisses you, and touches you that are so soft you are internally begging for more.

Even with his depravity your core is throbbing for him. your body is covered in chills needing to be touched by his hands, you want him.

Your Bene Gesserit training working perfectly. You are ovulating and ready to mate. You hope his torturous game ends soon and he takes you in his warm bed to consummate the marriage and this nightmare is over.

You look to your left studying the table covered with an assortment of items there. Some phallic shaped, some glowing. You hear the click sound drawing your attention back inside to him. He unlocks his display case facing the balcony. Seeing inside once he hinges both large doors open makes your heart jump as a cold fear wracks your body.

Glinting within the display case, is an assortment of his knives. Each row looks more threatening and painful than the next.

Your eyes lose focus, feeling dizzy. You can't bear the idea of being cut or stabbed on your beautiful skin. You fidget your wrists together above your head to relieve some of the anxiety, but it only makes you feel more confined to your situation.

He carefully inspects each knife, wanting to pair the perfect one with you. He smiles as he pulls out a rare beautiful irredentist white handled one.

You watch as he takes the blade up to his tongue and slowly licks down the edge testing its sharpness. He's psychotic.

When he returns standing in front of you wielding the blade you close your eyes.

You let out a choked off whine when you feel the cold steel press against your throat. Your eyes fly open in fear. Feyd yanks your head back by the hair to expose your throat even more. He trails the knife against your most vulnerable spot.

"Feyd please, please..." you beg him for mercy. You twist your hands in vain trying to slip your wrists through the restraints, you are completely trapped.

You focus on your mission to be bred by him and beg even more. "Please I'll do everything you ask, just let me touch you, I want you, I will give myself to you, please not like this."

Upon hearing your words he slowly releases your hair. You look back into his cold dark eyes as yours softly plead with him. He removes the knife from your throat.

With perfect precision, he slices down your dress kneeling as the knife glides through the fabric without a sound. He stands back up and begins cutting off your sleeves. The cloths fall to the floor leaving you hanging trembling and completely naked.

He wanted to climax watching your blood spill on him, but your voice stirred something deep inside of his mind.

You watch as he heads back to his blade showcase. As he searches in it, you hope he is done with his knife. Instead he sheaths it at his hip.

Collecting what he wanted he returns with a ball gag. You resist holding your lips closed and he grabs your jaw hinging your mouth open. He pushes the ball inside strapping it on your mouth. "MMMFF" you yell against the ball as it absorbs your cries.

He stands behind you securing the buckle tight. He grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head back to rasp against your ear. "Now I can fully enjoy this pretty body without that mouth.”

The things you say are making him feel things he doesn't like to feel, and think things he doesn't want to think. You willingly wanting to give yourself to him is softening his resolve.

He is not soft, he wants to use you and dominate your body, getting off on your pain. He cups and squeezes your breasts from behind, pinching your nipples hard to distract himself back to the physical.

His touch is painful but you moan and arc your back to press against his cock. You want him inside of you not even able to think about torturing you anymore.

He falters and gives into his sexual urges sliding his hands down to your waist and pushing himself back against you. His eyes close as soon as he feels the heat between your legs warming his cock. It hardens his length making him want to breed with you.

He quickly pulls the knife from his hip trying to change the satisfaction of his urges. He brings the blade inches from your neck and presses his lips to your ear.

"Hold still for me pet" he whispers. He bites your lobe with his black teeth, you’ve aroused him so much his hand slips.

You feel the cold sharp point of his knife lightly scrape against your neck where he plans to cut you. You completely panic trying to move away from him. You yank your wrists against the restraints wanting to be freed. Your screams begging him not to hurt you muffled by the gag. He sheaths his knife seeing your defiance.

"Let's see how many times I need to make you cum until you obey me then,” he says finding your hopeless defiance amusing. It's the sign of someone who has never been broken before and he savors it.

He goes to the table on the balcony searching and pulling a large, metal, cylindrical shaped pill into one hand and a phallic shaped one in the other. He kneels down in front of you and brings the pill between your legs. He rests it at your entrance, making you tense.

"You'll cum only on my command," he instructs as he stares into your eyes.

You nod relieved it will be pleasurable. He pushes the shiny metal pill high inside of you with two fingers until it stops at your cervix. His fingers feel so good you clench as he slips them out.

As soon as the pill warms to your body temperature and detects your heartbeat, it begins to pulse and vibrate your entire pelvis.

Your abs constrict with each pulse and you immediately let out sounds of pleasure feeling the vibrations deep in your core. He presses the phallus on your clit and it hums as he wands it between your folds and back up to your clit again.

You moan into the gag, chest heaving as you toss your head back in ecstasy. The pill increasing in intensity with your body.

One clicking set of pulses on the inside as he wands over your clit on the outside has you curl your abdomen due to sexual overstimulation. You lift your knees up trying to relieve the intensity but he pushes your legs back down with his hand and presses the vibrating phallus into your clit even harder making your mind goes weak. The pleasure is immeasurable you fight your physical urges to cum as long as you can.

He moves the phallus to your entrance pushing it inside as the pill vibrates its strongest. Your moans are unending. You squeeze your legs together as he holds the phallus inside of you and you immediately fail. You orgasm moaning so loudly your teeth vibrate against the ball gag. Wave after wave of euphoria crashes through your entire body.

You feel a huge surge of endorphins as the pill stops. He slips the phallus out as you come down. Your breaths are heaving. Your head is bowed low, chills cover the expanse of your body. It was too pleasurable.

You hear him click his tongue in disapproval. "I didn't say you could cum, now we have to start over." He stares at you, waiting until you finally tilt your head up and nod. Your reactions are delayed the orgasm demolished you.

He puts on a ring that matches the pill and gently reaches two fingers inside of you. The pill slides down to connect with his ring and he pulls it out of your wetness. It makes you moan, you feel empty again.

Your sounds of pleasure excite him. He places the tip of the phallus under your chin tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "I enjoyed watching you cum, you make the prettiest sounds. I'll give you more, but this time, you'll cum on my command or I will punish you." He says inflecting his words deliberately at the end

You quickly nod, wanting to be good for him and avoid any pain. The pleasure he gives you is so addicting your body already craves more.

He puts his pill and phallus aside and picks up a vial of glowing liquid coating his fingers with it as he stands in front of you.

He reaches between your legs, covering your folds inside and out. His slippery fingers explore over all the flesh between your legs, spreading the liquid around liberally.

It feels so warm, and good, and pleasurable. You close your eyes, nipples hardening as you enjoy suddenly feeling more sensitive to his touch. It amuses him, he uses this arousal fluid on his most depraved pleasure slaves to make them cum.

He smiles to himself admiring how beautiful your face is in pleasure. He rewards you with a soft pinch to your clit, releasing a pretty moan from your lips. He might make you his favorite pet after his training tonight.

He slowly pushes his middle and index fingers into you, spreading the fluid inside and then holding them still as he waits. This time you fully feel the effect of the substance as it relaxes your walls and the blood begins coursing to your softening core. You feel an intense throbbing inside and out, especially on your clit.

You struggle to keep your eyes focused on his face, the feeling extreme. Your head tilts downward as your abs tighten. You endure wave after wave of powerful pulsing and intense throbbing between your legs. Your eyes close as you moan softly into the gag. Your entire body relaxes, floating in mental ecstasy.

He smiles knowing the effects are taking over. He starts to scissor his fingers inside of you, opening you up. The feeling is so good and intense, you moan and drool on the gag as your core tightens. He loves seeing you so aroused getting a high from it.

He shoves his fingers in and out of you until you are on the verge of another orgasm. The arousal fluid working so well he can push his third finger inside of you. You begin to whimper and whine as he shoves it in with the other two stretching you out and stuffing you full.

He scissors all three making a wave of pleasure swell inside of your core triggering your climax. You moan in euphoria losing tears and drool as your body constricts around his fingers.

"Does my little pet want to cum?" he asks. You nod and moan against the ball gag, tears fall from your eyes as you clench inside ready to orgasm. "You'll cum when I say" he smirks darkly making you endure more.

You whine at his denial.

He pushes his fingers up, spreading them wide, and curls them back down inside of you. If the gag wasn't in your mouth you would be high-pitched moaning so loudly everyone in the courtyard would hear it.

His cock twitches from the sound. He's beginning to enjoy pleasing you more than inflicting pain on you.

The feeling is so euphoric as he spreads you open. Your walls begin rhythmically expanding and contracting on his fingers. You don't even recognize the animalistic sounds escaping your throat as you erupt into an orgasm.

You release so much pleasure and liquid from your core it renders your body completely listless. The gag vibrates in your mouth as you deeply moan in aftershock.

Your wrists go limp in the restraints as you struggle to recover. The throbbing subsides leaving you weak and brainless as you leak arousal all over his fingers and his hand.

You whine against your drool covered gag remembering you weren't supposed to cum. He pulls his wet fingers out leaving you empty.

He brings his hand up to his mouth and slides his long tongue out. He licks his hand entirely clean enjoying the taste of your sweet cum. The slick clear texture of your ovulation makes him urge to have thick ropes of his seed coating your walls. It softens his crueler intentions

He squeezes your face by the jaw to look up at him. "I wanted to reward you and take off your restraints but you came again without my permission and now you will be punished" He watches you shiver before he continues. "I will do it lightly. I want to pleasure you and taste that sweet cum you make for me again," his voice sounds gentler as he releases your jaw.

A chill runs down your spine wondering what he considers a light punishment. He begins to pull your rope from the anchor hook back down into his hands.

As your arms lower you feel the blood begin flowing to your limbs again giving you relief. He releases the ball gag from your mouth relaxing your even more. He wipes your tears and chin clean. He looks you over, still so beautiful to him. Your wrists bright red with dots of blood, pupils blown wide from shock.

He's pleasured you brainless now he wants to fuck you boneless.

The Atonement

He suddenly yanks the rope pulling your wrists. "Come get your punishment pet," he watches the look of surprise returning some vitality to your washed out eyes.

You feel the knots in your stomach thinking of what torture he has in store. He has already defragmented your mind to pieces, you will do anything he asks. He pulls you along until he reaches his table at the foot of the bed. He looses the rope and steps down on it making you kneel to the floor bowing down at his feet.

He sifts through the items on the table finding what he wants and yanks you up by your rope to kneel. He brings a dainty silver chain in front of you in his hands. At first you think its a necklace until he clamps one end on your right nipple and the other end on your left.

Your body constricts as you try to get used to the feeling. Your nipples become extremely hard in the clamps, it is pleasurable yet painful at the same time sending chills across your body.

"You are such a soft pet, so I will only punish you lightly," he says and begins pulling the chain up it sharpens the pinch of the metal on your nipples making you cry out.

He lifts the chain higher beckoning you to stand. You struggle to lift from kneeling with your hands tied in front of you. He never releases his tight hold on the chain as you try to get up. You finally gain your footing and stand in front of him.

Your body jolts when he tugs your nipple chain pulling you into him. He begins kissing your throat and with the way he licks and sucks onto your neck it makes you give in to him completely.

He takes his time and sucks loving bruises across the entire front of your neck making a collar. Your moans and whimpers sound so good close to his ear. They are his new favorite sounds and he wants more.

He reaches his hand up cupping your jaw kissing your lips passionately. As he kisses you he begins to savor every touch of your lips together.

The feeling is foreign to him, not having the urge to cause you pain to get aroused. His cock is growing hard between his legs just knowing he's giving you pleasure. You finally touch him, rubbing your bound hands on the hard length of his growing cock. It entices a deep moan out of him.

He parts from you and pulls his knife. You whimper in fear, remaining completely still; trembling yet obedient. He brings the knife down to your wrists cutting each knot on your restraints one by one.

Your freed wrists are incredibly bruised and red with blood. He inspects them remembering how much you struggled when you were tied.

Instead of arousal he feels something else inside that he thinks is remorse. The thought strikes him, you are his baroness his wife and he can never mark on you this way again. He rubs his thumbs across the marks thinking of how he can atone.

He removes his knife and holster from his waist and sets them on the table. He picks up another metallic phallus and pill knowing what you like. He pulls you onto the bed making you lay in the middle.

You look up and see a mirror on his ceiling. You watch in the reflection as he settles between your legs with his face instead of his body.

He softly pushes the pill deep inside of you and removes his fingers. As it detects your vitals and begins to pulse. He taps the phallus on and presses it to your clit. You let out a pleasurable sound that he likes and he smiles.

He presses the humming phallus to your entrance and you spread your legs wider inviting him in. He enjoys it and grazes his black teeth against your soft inner thighs biting and sucking equal bruises on each side.

The pill pulses slowly inside of your body making you softly moan. He presses the phallus to your clit again and looks into your eyes. He enjoys watching your face get softer and softer from the pleasure building inside of you.

The pill starts vibrating deeply against your cervix making you want to cum. He pushes the phallus all the way in and snakes his hand up your navel pulling your nipple chain and holding it taught. All three stimuli at once make you strongly orgasm, moaning into the air.

He removes the phallus and grabs your thighs pulling them wider lowering his face between your legs. You watch as he slowly unfurls his long tongue and presses the flat wide part on your clit and laps up the clear slick cum of your orgasm. Your core tightens as you begin to moan his name and praise him repeatedly.

He smiles darkly against your folds. Your praises sound so good to him encouraging him to do more. He begins to lick and suck harder, spreading his mouth all over between your legs. He ravishes you until your body is covered in chills trembling in ecstasy.

You look up into the mirror on the ceiling seeing your face blissed out in euphoria. You watch Feyds pale muscular back flexing as he holds your thighs open and devours you between your legs.

Your core begins pounding as you moan louder watching him ravage you in the reflection. As Feyd continues to lick and suck the pill powerfully hums increasing its intensity until you are at your peak.

Your body tenses and then relents into ecstasy. You have a cataclysmic orgasm squirting liquid from your core directly into Feyds wanting mouth.

He moans deeply in pleasure as he drinks it out of you swallowing and lapping up every last drop before tonguing deep inside of you wanting more. His cock hardens completely solid.

You shiver involuntarily as you come down from your orgasm and let out a breathy moan. He begins licking you clean between your legs like an animal. His beast-like vulgarity overwhelms all of your senses.

Feyd climbs over you looking into your wrecked out eyes. He unclamps your nipples one at a time, another wave of relief washes through your body. He delicately inserts his ring finger into you, retrieving the now wet pill. He sits up to put all of the items back on the table.

You watch as he removes his black slacks, his entire body is chiseled like a perfect white marble statue. You are over come with arousal as you stare at the length firm standing between his muscular thighs.

His cock is long and hard, it bounces as he kneels back on the bed naked infront of you. He's completely hairless, his testes soft pink, his thick shaft alabaster white, his tip glowing red from arousal. Seeing his length and size you wonder how it will fit but you are craving to be impregnated by it.

You slowly sit up shakily at first then, turn over getting on your hands and knees. You crawl away from him climbing up the bed using all of your strength. He tilts his head wondering what your plan is.

You have to complete your mission from the Bene Gesserits, you need to be impregnated by his seed and you need it deep.

Brutal Breeding

You grab the headboard and arc your back down. With your knees parted wide you reach your hand between your legs and spread your wet pussy lips open for him.

You peek over your shoulder watching his reaction. His breathing becomes ragged, his eyes go dark as they fixate between your legs. His movements turn almost animalistic like he is stalking as he crawls to you. The urge to breed and soak his cock overwhelming all of his senses.

He kneels behind you placing one hand on your waist and the other around the base of his shaft. He rubs his thick heavy cock between your legs coating his tip and length in the slick arousal of your folds. His tip is throbbing as he presses it to your entrance sending a shiver up your spine.

You brace yourself, as he shifts on his knees and grips your waists preparing to breed you. With one powerful thrust he spears the tip of his cock into you. Your head knocks back against his shoulder as a desperate cry escapes your throat.

You pant heavily trying to adjust. With only the tip in, he pulls his hips back until it slips out. He grabs your legs, and spreads them wider to accommodate his size.

He rests his tip to your entrance a second time. You brace again as he powerfully thrusts his hips forward smacking against you. This time his cock plows directly into your cervix as his hips meet the backs of your thighs.

You gasp in shock before wailing. His first several thrusts are quite painful you arch your back and cry out in distress. He stretches you wide around his thick cock. His thrusts are brutal like he's he's stabbing you between the legs. After several pushes of his cock your vulva finally splits around his size. You become extremely wet. You cry out as he begins to thrust into you fully.

His soaked cock begins gliding in and out of your tight walls. The agony and pain soon turns into the reward of pleasure. You get accustomed to the feel of being stretched around his large size and finally begin to praise him and moan his name as you enjoy it.

The way your walls grip him is unlike any other he is instantly addicted to your sex.

"That's it pet ...take my cock," he breathes as he plows directly into your cervix with every single thrust. He begins to fuck you harder until you are both panting like you are running out of air. The slapping sounds of his skin against yours increases with his stamina. Your walls throb in pleasure as your moans fill the air

He finally pulls his hips back as he catches his breath, his cock is twitching wanting to cum. He holds your waist tighter and thrusts himself fully back into your tight hole repeatedly.

The head of his cock presses directly into your cervix as his shaft finally spasms. You feel the hotness filling you up as he bursts rope after rope of his thick cum into your open cervix.

Feyd lets out a loud choked off moan feeling one of the greatest pleasures in his life. Your walls clenching and releasing on him rhythmiclly trying to milk his cock of every drop.

He lets out a range of deep moans from the feeling and continues to thrust into you still hard. Shocks of pleasure begin racing up your spine from the overwhelming sensation. His thrusts never stop as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you.

You let out a string of high-pitched moans unable to contain your arousal as he pounds into you from behind. He grabs you around the back of your neck as he feels his second climax begin.

His cock gets even harder and seems to swell stretching you to another level of fullness. You cry out as you climax

He feels your orgasm milk his cock again with your tights walls and he deeply moans in pleasure. You are like a drug to him now. He fully sheaths himself inside of you, his cock twitches as he groans releasing a second load of cum deep into your womb.

He falls forward holding the headboard with you. Chest heaving cock throbbing as he thrusts every last drop into your core.

His hips slow to a still as he tries to catch his breath. He brings one arm down and wraps it around your torso holding you tightly to him.

He wants to remain one with you as long as possible, he doesn't want to pull out he wants his heir. His breathing slows as he finally softens.

He shakily straightens up behind you and pulls his hips back until his heavy tip slips out of you.

Only a few drops of his silver cum leak from you and he kneels behind you in worship, licking them back up and pushing them inside of you with his tongue.

He feels weak like the very life force was taken from him as he collapses back on to the bed.

He is unable to move a muscle as he slowly falls unconscious.

You come down from holding the head board to check him. His eyes are shut tight as he softly breathes. You stare down his pale white body to his now soft cock resting on his thigh. You are astonished he can cum more than once.

With his breathing slowed you think he must be in deep sleep dreaming so you can begin the prana-bindu phrases. You kneel over his ear and begin to chant them but he twitches violently in his sleep and turns on his side startling you.

Without thinking you quickly put your hand on his shoulder holding him steady to calm him. You will have to wait until he's fully asleep to whisper the phrases to bind him. You lift his head and slide your thigh under it.

You grab his muscular white arm by the wrist and drape it around your waist to hold you.

He looks so soft and beautiful without his cold piercing eyes. You wonder how he would've tuned out with the proper upbringing.

You can't help but show him affection wondering how cruel his life must've been with the Baron. You stroke his temple lovingly.

Suddenly you feel a twinge of pain in your uterus and press your hand on it. Using your mind to control your body you will the selection of the gender. The pain travels up your fallopian tube to your ovary and dissipates. You are pregnant with Feyds unborn.

You hope he has enough humanity left in him for your future child's sake. The severity hits you suddenly as you look down at his sleeping face.

You still have a mission. You need his breathing to be heavier. He needs to be in deep sleep with his eyelids moving while he's dreaming before you whisper the phrases this time.

You caress his shoulders and his neck and ears before it dawns on you. Maybe he has nothing to dream about. You know he craves being praised and begin to speak softly over his ear as you caress him.

"Feyd Rautha is so handsome, he is so brave and he will conquer every fighter in the gladiator arena in his upcoming fight."

His shoulder twitches and his face slightly warms into a wicked smile before returning back.

You think harder

"Feyd, your wife is pregnant with your unborn, soon you will be Baron and have your heir."

His arm squeezes firmer around your waist hugging onto you. You intertwine your fingers with his and softly rest your hand on his head. You watch as his lips part and his breathing becomes heavier. His eyelids finally shift as he begins to dream.

You quickly whisper prana-bindu phases into his ear binding him and watch as his eyelids open a sliver, showing the whites of his eyes and then close. It is done.

You lift his head and gently rest it back to the bed pulling the blanket to cover him. You will go back to your chambers now that the deed is done. He can do what he wants and you will remain obedient enough that he doesn't discard you or kill you. You will await further orders from the Bene Gesserits.

When you step from the bed you wince in pain as a dull ache begins to form between your legs. He's bred you so brutally you can barely walk.

You will think of ways to make him gentler now that he enjoys giving you pleasure. You rest your hand against the banister of his bed before you can take another step.

You check your body. Your wrists and inner thighs are covered with bruises, you reach your hand to your neck remembering he sucked there across the entire front. Finally you reach between your legs and wince from the tenderness. You look back at Feyd still sleeping soundly. You slowly walk to collect your cloak and escape.

You find it at the entrance in the darkened room on the floor and clasp it back on. You get to his large bedroom doors and see the bolt resting across. You are almost completely out of strength as you try to push the bolt up. It lifts and falls back too quickly making a loud click sound as it settles.

Feyd is already up when he hears the familiar sound.

He comes and strips your cloak off of your body and picks you up over his shoulder carrying you back to his bed. He looks you over as he lays you down.

"Are you going to stay or do I have to tie you up?" his voice sounds very tired.

"I'll stay," you say knowing he would tie you up if you said otherwise.

He goes to re-secure the door before climbing back into bed with you.

He nudges you with his hands making you go higher and higher up the bed until your back is resting against his head board. He settles between your legs laying his head on your thigh.

His muscular shoulders are prominent in your lap as he wraps his arms around your hips hugging you. His affectionate embrace shocks you.

He tugs at your wrist, wanting your hand on his head. You wonder if he remembered this in his sleep as you begin to stroke behind his ear and down his neck.

He is addicted to the way you comfort him, feeling love and affection softens him completely for you. His hand creeps from around you to rest over your navel.

He stares at it like he is imagining his baby growing inside and gently caresses your womb.

Your ears tingle wondering if he realizes. When he kisses you at the exact place above your unborn, you understand somehow he must already know.

Your eyes grow weary, your body begins completely shutting down from shock and stress. You slowly fall unconscious resting your head back to the headboard.

When your hand stops caressing him he tugs it once then looks up realizing you are asleep. He sits up and cradles your head in his hands as he brings you down from the headboard to lay in his bed.

You are completely out. He looks at your sleeping face feeling a mix of pain for hurting you and happiness that you are his. The new emotions are overwhelming to him he tries to block them out.

Laying down with you he covers you both. He pulls you onto his chest placing your hand across his shoulder to hold him. He closes his eyes and slowly drifts into a deep sleep dreaming he is Baron of Giedi Prime with his Baroness and his heir.

~*END*~To Be Continued

UPDATE: Part 2 Now Available ✍🏼

🏷️ @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @hardcoredisneynerd @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @steph-speaks @maloribarnes1999 @austinswhitewolf @berlinalv

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kasagia · 9 months ago

Text

Right hand

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You were his right-hand (wo)man after he saw you in combat during your training on the Bene Gesserit. He freed you from them and turned you from a Bene Gesserit into a faithful soldier who took care of all his dirty business. Getting rid of the bodies of the people he killed, organising opponents for him to fight, poor people on whom he could vent his anger and desire for bloodshed, or even concubines. You were his eyes and ears in the baron's court. You reported everything to him, being more effective than any Bene Gesserit. But he wants more... much more. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; bathing together; dagger play; breeding kink? I guess; a lot things happening; my first time for Feyd so I'm a little nervous😅; enjoy!; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~

It wasn't your choice to undergo Bene Gesserit training. Your mother abandoned you when you were a little baby and took you to these terrible women, leaving you to their mercy.

You hated them. Their entire organisation, which included planned breeding, aimed at creating the Kwisatz Haderach. To you, these women were a sick cult that you were reluctant to be a part of. You trembled with fear, thinking of the day when they would send you to extend the genetic line of a nobel family by lending your womb or to ensure that their plans succeeded.

However, you realised that you had little say in the matter. The Bene Gesserit would find you anywhere if you tried to run and hide. You were doomed to follow the orders of your crazy old reverend mother and wait in fear for the day when you could prove your usefulness.

But one day, you crossed paths with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And for a very long time, you considered it a real gift from fate. The first happy turn of events in your tragic life.

He was on a diplomatic mission. He was being shown around by the princess of your planet, and they happened to be attending the training of the Bene Gesserit sisters. You immediately caught his attention. Your movements were smoother, full of the passion of a true warrior. You charmed him so much that, at first, he thought you had put a spell on him. After seeing your potential and your obvious dislike for your sisters, he took you with him to Giedi Prime.

He faked your death so the Bene Gesserit sisters wouldn't come looking for you. He made you his right hand, his most trusted soldier. It was only after years of service under the Na-Baron that you realised that you had entered a much worse hell than any plans the Bene Gesserit had for you.

Feyd Rautha was supposed to be your personal devil. But first, you saw him as your saviour.

An animalistic, bloodthirsty scream resounds throughout the na-baron's private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow she received from the furious man. You enter the room just as Feyd pierces him with his sword, causing drops of blood to land on your face.

You wipe them away, undeterred by the na-baron's brutality. Years of service had accustomed you to all the acts of cruelty he was capable of. At least this time, the dead man's entrails didn't spill around him. You hated calling his harpies to the feast. Despite so many years spent at the side of the baron's favourite nephew, you never got used to his concubines. They made you feel strangely uneasy.

"My lord, na-baron." You say, announcing your presence. Feyd breathes heavily and shifts his mad, furious gaze to you, not noticing your entrance until you speak.

You walk past the body, avoiding the pool of blood, and hand him a towel. He takes it from you without a word, wiping the sweat and blood from his head, chest, and back. You ignore his exposed muscles and kneel next to the man on whom he took out his anger, preparing to carry him out of the room before the next opponent/toy shows up.

"You were right. That old fool entrusted Arrakis to my brother. He will embarrass our family in one day. Ha! Even half is enough for him! This wretch doesn't know how to manage a small province, let alone an entire planet with fremen ready to attack at any corner." He says, rubbing himself furiously. He throws a towel into the corner of the room and walks to the table to pour himself something to drink.

"He gives him a chance to prove himself. When he wastes it, you will get it and prove to the baron and the lords that you are rightfully entitled to the title of baron." You say, securing the body so the guards at the door can carry it out.

"Every fool knows that. It's obvious that I'm a better choice than this scoundrel, who will sell the secrets of our family and swear allegiance to anyone who threatens his life. Baron throws a party in his honor. To the success of his mission. He's just doing it to piss me off. He doesn't give a damn about Rabban or whether he succeeds. This is just another of his tests on me. That's why you're coming with me. I've already sent for a dress for you." You look up at him with your surprised gaze. You're even more shocked when he reaches out his hand to help you up—something you didn't expect from him in his white, burning rage state.

"A dress?" You ask, taking his hand. You hold your breath, keeping yourself from gasping, as he lifts you off the floor with one strong pull. Unprepared, you bump completely onto his chest, not being able to keep your balance.

You freeze at the feeling of his muscled body close to yours. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline he felt while killing this poor man. You tense up, seeing his icy-blue eyes already staring at yours. He starts giggling darkly as he presses you tighter against him so you can feel every muscle of his.

"Is there a problem? Would you prefer to come naked? I wouldn't mind, but…”

"I'm simply surprised that you want me there officially. I usually sneak there. I watch from the shadows. Well, you know." You interrupt me before he can insinuate anything, and with his silent permission, you move a decent distance away from him, leaving his arms.

You always had to be careful when making moves like this. You saw how he punished for minor offences, just for breathing. And you didn't run away from the Bene Gesserit with him to lose your life because of one of his… impulses. Although he has never put you in any serious danger, which was strangly amazing, since all of the servants who worked for him (and are still alive) have experienced his wrath on their bodies at least once.

"I know. But this time, I need you by my side. Not in hiding. My birthday is coming up—the most important of them all. I want to know what my uncle will come up with. Maybe you can find out something from the Lords. Besides, why wouldn't I want to have such beauty on my arm?"

"You want a woman by your side so you can humiliate your brother before he leaves? Perpetuate in him a sense of belief that you are superior, even if you don't have power over Arrakis right now?"

You see his hands tighten on his blades. You purse your lips, realising you were too quick to question his intentions. Basic mistake. You shouldn't have tested the waters when you knew Feyd was already on the end of his patience.

He takes a step towards you, entering your personal space. You swallow and lift your head to meet his gaze. This wasn't the first time he had intimidated you, tested you, carefully gauged your reaction, and waited until he finally saw the fear in your eyes. But you never gave him that satisfaction. If the Bene Gesserit taught you anything, it was that fear was weakness. A weakness you could tame... at least enough not to show it to anyone else.

So you endure his piercing, burning gaze with indifference. You stay like that even after a small smirk starts to appear on his face. You wonder how many people before you saw that smirk and stared into those night-black eyes on Giedi Prime as they passed from this world.

"That pink little tongue of yours will get you into trouble one day, my little witch." He purrs, his tone low and dangerous. He reaches up to your face with his free hand and gently runs his hand through your hair, caressing your cheek and jaw with the pad of his thumb. "Possible. I'm a na-baron... don't I deserve the best?" He looks defiantly at you, throwing you the proverbial gauntlet. He's waiting for you to stumble. For open defiance of his order.

You don't understand why, but he's been acting like this more and more lately. He made ambiguous comments, carefully watching your reaction. It was something new—a change in his behaviour that you hadn't figured out the reason for yet. But you had too much on your mind to think about it any longer.

"I can prepare you a beautiful concubine perfect for Giedi Prime standards." You suggest at which he shakes his head, laughing hoarsely. He turns his back to you and pours himself another glass of water.

"It's not necessary. I want you. Go and get ready. I'll join you in two hours when I'm done here." He says just as the door opens to reveal the soldiers you called for to take the body away and who have brought him a new drugged opponent. Feyd licks his lips, flips the blade up, and catches it, making a little show before lunging at his toy.

"As you wish, my na-baron." You say before leaving him to get ready for the party. Another warrior's scream echoes off the walls of the chamber as Feyd unleashes his anger on him.

You scan the room carefully, standing with your glass against the wall in a more crowded part of the room. You try your best to blend in with the crowd, but with your hair down, it's not that easy. Even if you try to cover your hair, you can feel people's curious gazes on you. But the worst ones are the burning gazes of the lords on you, some of them too lustful to be able to feel comfortable.

If you could, you would hide in the shadows, as usual, and observe them without being the centre of attention. You felt like a monkey in a circus or an exotic animal at an exhibition. The cold hand on your shoulder reminds you why you can't do this. You turn around to once again meet the na-baron's intense gaze today.

"You look good." He says as his eyes carefully scan the black latex dress with cutouts on the sides that reach down to your hipbones. "But I don't remember having that metal corset disguised as armour and that ridiculous chain veil sent to you along with the dress."

"I almost mistook this rag for a nightgown. I had to wear something on it. They think I'm your whore anyway; we don't have to prove it to them." You respond to his taunt and turn towards him. He is wearing black, formal armour, which is perfect as an official outfit.

"Do you find it scandalous to be my whore, little witch? Maybe even disgusting?" You meet his gaze to roll your eyes at him, at which he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don't like this closeness, but there's nothing you can do to push his hand off of you. You are in public. Such a gesture towards him would be equivalent to a death sentence.

"I see nothing... honourable or good in being anyone's whore, my na-baron." You say, gently moving away from him so as not to lean on him as much.

"Have you seen anything noteworthy?" He asks, unfazed by your trying to move away from him. He pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter and making your back rest against his chest. His fingertips brush against the exposed skin, caressing your hipbone.

You frown, turning your head to look at him. He's never been so... clingy before. He always respected your personal space and never touched you. You blame it on his desire to tease his brother, who is staring at you intently from across the room, and you shift your gaze to the people present at the party.

"Several lords congratulated your brother. However, there are rumours and beliefs that he will not be up to the task. Some also believe that you will slit his throat before his ship leaves for Arrakis."

"This idea crossed my mind. If you hadn't brought this information to me earlier, you would probably have had to deal with making the public believe in his… tragic and sudden death from natural causes."

"Natural causes; I wish I could see that." You scoff, finishing your drink. You turn around, leaving his arms, and set your glass down on the table. When you turn to him again, he holds out his hand for you to take.

"You'll see if you don't entertain me. I'm bored, and looking at this smug idiot isn't helping my patience or my ability to restrain myself. Dance with me, my little witch."

"You're interrupting my work." You complain, taking his hand. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you around, pulling you tight against his chest. He holds you close to him, perfectly placing his steps and moving to the beat of the music. He is as fluid in dancing as he is in fighting. Flawless as always.

"I'm your work. You are my right hand; you meet all my needs. I don't think I need to remind you of that, do I?" He asks in challenge, taking your chin between his two fingers as he looks at you carefully. You only smile at him in a sweet, artificial way. He laughs, fully aware of how fake this act is, and drops your chin.

Over the years, you discovered that he liked it when you teased him and responded to his taunts with your own. Of course, only when no one could hear it, and not very often. He had a reputation to uphold. He couldn't afford for anyone to see his right-hand (wo)man mocking him. Unbeknownst to you, he found it adorable the way your eyes lit up whenever you did something mischievous.

"Of course not, my na-baron."

"Good." He nods at your words. He takes his eyes off you for a moment and focuses on something behind your shoulder. He leans down, his cheek brushing against yours. You shiver at the sudden closeness, his scent becoming more distinct as you inhale it wholeheartedly. It's captivating. Sweet. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Just like him. "Do you have your daggers?" His hot whisper reaches your ear. He's so close, you can almost feel his full lips brush against your earlobe.

"Yes, why?" You ask, perfectly masking the tremble in your voice. But you doubt whether you can hide from him how your heartbeat speeds up. You blame it on the adrenaline rush. Not fear caused by his proximity.

"It seems to me that you will soon have to prove to these imbeciles once again why I chose you to be my right-hand man." He explains as the song ends.

You feel him reluctantly release you from his embrace and take a step away from you. You turn around and see his brother walking towards you, his right hand following him, giving you a mischievous look and a lecherous, mocking smile when he sees your outfit. You straighten up, lifting your head proudly at the man in a similar position to yours. The difference between you was that you served the stronger Harkonnen. It would give you an inviolably higher position if, like them, you had a penis between your legs.

"Brother. You finally brought your pet to play with us." Rabban says, nodding to his brother. You feel a wave of disgust as his gaze lingers on you longer.

Feyd tenses, furious, as his brother's eyes are all on you. You wouldn't have noticed if his hand hadn't been on your hip bone a moment later, hiding some of your exposed skin from his brother's eyes. You wonder what his problem might be. After all, he chose this dress for you by himself.

"Be careful. She doesn't have a muzzle. I would prefer that no harm come to you before you go to Arrakis. She's got some pretty... sharp teeth." He says it condescendingly, pulling you closer to him. In a perfect world, you'd kick them both in the groin. Unfortunately, you don't have that luxury. You can only imagine putting these two pseudo-alpha males in their place. But how sweet these dreams are...

"What about a small competition? My man against yours? Let's see what this mysterious beauty that you keep hidden can really do." Rabban's right-hand man gives you a cocky, confident look. He plays with the dagger in his hand, making a poor show that was intended to intimidate you. You roll your eyes behind your metal chain veil and shift your gaze to Feyd. You are only subject to his orders. Not some weak, pathetic creatures.

"This party is already dead. Do you want to kill also YOUR pet?" Feyd mocks him, and you almost break your unflappable, emotionless attitude, barely holding back your laughter. Na-baron sees this and smiles to himself, rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb on your hipbone.

"Are you afraid that she won't heat your bed anymore?" Feyd narrows his eyes at him. You feel his fingertips dig painfully into your hip as he tries to keep himself from lunging at his brother with the blade. You know full well that the eyes of the lords, the baron, and most of the people at the party are turned towards you.

"I have no doubt whatsoever about the outcome of this little skirmish. She will just sweat unnecessarily. And I would rather have her in full strength tonight." He says it in a mocking tone, shifting his gaze towards you. He licks his lips and tightens his grip to make his lewd intentions towards you clear to the two men.

Despite his famous reputation, he never touched you. Giedi Prime society might have thought otherwise, but in the years you had served as his right-hand man, he had never once taken you to bed or had you entertain him at night. You appreciated it immensely, which is why you accepted such behaviour from him without batting an eyelid whenever you were in public. It was all a game to maintain the reputation he had built over the years. Or so you thought.

"Feyd, boy, release your pet. Let her entertain us." The baron's words interrupt any skirmish that might have developed between the brothers.

It was not uncommon at Giedi Prime parties for soldiers to fight against each other to entertain the crowd. You just didn't think that you would have to fight someone during your first official arrival at the party. Although you should have anticipated such an unexpected turn of events. The baron and Rabban would not miss the opportunity to find out how much you were really worth and why Feyd, out of all the talented soldiers, chose the Bene Gesserit as his right-hand man.

You send a quick glance at Feyd. He gives you a small nod, so you bow to the baron and prepare to fight. The crowd around you parts to form a circle. You feel people's excitement as you flip the metal chains from your face to your hair, revealing more of your face. You wrap the shawl around your hair, tying it tighter and making sure it won't get in the way of your fight.

You look at your opponent, who is also preparing, trying to spot any of his weak points before the fight even begins. Rabban says something in his ear, which causes the manly smile to grow. Feyd stands in front of you, blocking your view of them. You look into his steel blue eyes as he leans towards you.

"Don't hold back." He whispers in your ear, handing you his blade. "And finish it quickly. We have other things to do."

You nod at him. He walks away from you, sending a mocking smirk at your opponent. He spreads his arms, taking a few steps back, as if inviting him to try his hand at you. You feel the burning gaze of his eyes on your back as you position yourself in front of the man.

"Don't worry, witch. If I win, I won't kill you. It's a shame to waste such a pretty face. I wonder if you're as good as the rumours say. Your pussy must be good to keep the na-baron entertained for so long." He says, waiting for you to activate your shield. But you don't do this. You want to completely humiliate him and give everyone in the room a clear message about your power and that you didn't secure your place just by having a pretty face. The crowd cheers, but you think you can hear Feyd growl furiously amidst the shouts of approval.

"I doubt you'll have the chance to find out." You say, and without waiting for his next words, you attack.

After the first few attacks, you figure out his tactics. He is physically strong, it's true, but that's his only advantage. It attacks you in a learned way, repeating its patterns. You read him quickly and position yourself to use his strength and mass against him. You could have walked up to him a long time ago and slit his throat, but you know it would be much better if you had some fun with him. You will show that you have complete control over the course of this fight.

You dodge the man's punches, and after a few minutes, you quickly get bored when you once again manage to kick him and send him to his knees. You take advantage of the moment he gets up from the floor to glance at your na-baron. Feyd doesn't look happy with your introduction. Of course, you see his interested look and how he appreciates your skills, but he doesn't look at you like he usually does. He doesn't wait with bated breath for your next move, like the crowd around you does. You can tell from his face that he wants you to finish this as soon as possible. You frown, surprised that he of all people doesn't enjoy watching the fight. You wonder what the hell is wrong with him.

Your moment of inattention is, of course, immediately exploited by your opponent. You manage to fend off the man's blade, but not his kick, which sends you landing on your butt on the floor. You feel rage more than pain; you only see red when you hear the cocky laugh of the man you are fighting with. You're so focused on driving the blade into his body that you don't notice Feyd's angry look, the murder in his eyes, and the desire to rip your opponent apart with his own hands as you fall to the floor. And you certainly don't see the trembling of his hand, as he instinctively wanted to grab you and pull you safely behind him.

You strike once, quickly driving the blade into the man's stomach and leaving it there. You push him to his knees, push away the hand that holds the sword, and reach for the dagger hidden in the sleeve of your dress. You strike a second time, piercing his shoulder. You stick the second dagger into his hand and knock the weapon out of his hand, taking it from him. You grab the man's throat in a tight grip and tilt his head back. You lean over him, a mocking smirk on your face as he struggles to breathe.

"I didn't even take off my high heels." You mocked him as you slit his throat.

You smile victoriously as you decapitate him. His head rolls at your feet, blood splattering your dress and face as you breathe heavily. You sigh, feeling your heart pound in your chest, as you bow to the crowd surrounding you as they shout and applaud you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rabban's sour, angry expression. You kick the head of his right hand towards him and give him a small smirk. You stand upright as you meet the eyes of your na-baron.

And then you saw it. Hunger in his eyes. Pure lust and desire, as his pupils were wide and solemnly focused on you.

You knew that gaze. He only looked like that at things he really wanted. Only his favourite concubines got THAT look from him or a beautiful, precisely made weapon that fit perfectly in his hands. Usually he had that look in his eyes right after the great battle he won. He would lock himself with his concubines and then spend long hours in his chambers, giving himself completely to his primal instincts.

You shiver as he walks towards you, ignoring anything else in the room. He grabs you tightly by the throat, and, to the delight of the drunken crowd who are screaming madly with excitement after the show you had made, he kisses you.

It is hard, hungry, and passionate. His hand completely removes the metal chains and shawl that were covering your head, and he pulls you to him as close as possible. His grip on your hair and throat is tight as he demands that your mouth be opened for him by biting your lower lip. You moan involuntarily, causing his tongue to slip into your mouth, as he is exploring new territory with a zeal you've never seen from him.

He pulls away from you when you're completely out of breath. Your vision is blurry, your heart is pounding from the adrenaline of the fight, and you can only stare at him stupidly and blankly while trying to understand what just happened.

Your eyes widen as he licks his lips, lust still burning in his eyes as he takes in your panting form and swollen, red lips. A trickle of blood drips from your mouth after he bit into it a few minutes ago. As you taste your blood on your tongue, you realise the terrifying truth.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen desired you.

Feyd strokes your neck, which is still in his tight grip. His eyes travel from your lips to your neck, to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, and to your hips, which were starting to bruise from how tightly he held them in the moments before your fight. Suddenly, everything starts to fall into place for you. His strange, unusual behaviour, the flirtatious comments, the long stares, and his more frequent attempts to hold you close to him and touch your exposed skin are starting to make sense.

You were screwed.

Completely and utterly fucked up.

You've been avoiding him since that night. More than any Reverend Mother or Bene Gesserit. Which was a very difficult task, considering how many things you had to do as his right hand.

But, luckily, you managed to avoid being alone with him. Of course, it couldn't last long. You knew him very well, and you knew that eventually he would try something and come for you. But you tried to deceive yourself by living the lie that his desire would pass and his concubines would effectively take care of him.

If he noticed your attempts to stay away from him, he never mentioned it. Of course, he chased after you when he saw you walking alone down the hall, but you never gave him a chance to catch up with you. He may have grown up here, but you knew the palace like the back of your hand. And all the nooks and crannies you could hide in from him.

So you actually managed not to get close to him for a very long time. Until it was time to train a unit of soldiers directly subordinate to him.

"Y/N!!!" You're sure all of Giedi Prime could have heard his scream. You sigh, calming down as you continue your walk to the arena. You step out into the black sun, carefully watching the men training. You walk up to him and bow to him.

"My lord na-baron." You say it politely, unfazed by the fact that he's practically seething with rage. You were more used to dealing with him like this than when he was horny... or worse, kind. You would turn on your shield if you knew it wouldn't make him fall over the edge and start murdering everyone he could.

"Take your blade. None of these piles of useless muscles know basic defensive moves. Look, you all! You have to learn this by the end of the day, or next time you will enter this arena as my opponent!" He walks over to one of them, probably to either stab him or adjust his position, leaving you to get ready. You tie your hair up so it doesn't bother you during a fight and choose your blade.

You gasp in surprise when you are suddenly pushed. You turn around quickly, trying to keep your balance as you face the na-baron. You move your hand to activate your shield, but his voice stops you:

"Don't. I have to show them how to do it. No shield." You know he's lying, and that's not why he doesn't want you to turn on your shield, but you don't say anything. You just nod and prepare to get into a defensive position.

He attacks you quickly. Very quickly. You've trained with him before, and you have to admit, he's never been this… brutal with you.

You go through different positions with him until you finally stop following the textbook fighting patterns and start fighting seriously. You keep up with his movements for a long time, blocking his blade with yours and dodging attacks that you have no physical ability to block, but he keeps pressing against you, not letting you rest or trying to return the favour with one of your attacks.

You gasp in surprise when he trips you, sending you to the ground. You block his swing at you with your blade and kneel in the sand, trying to get up, but he's pressing too hard against you with his sword for you to move. You use all your strength to push him away from you. Feyd growls, throwing his sword aside, and simply lunges at you. You're too shocked to do anything as he snatches the blade from your hand and sits on top of you.

You fight him, sending both of you rolling in the sand. Eventually, he gets impatient and wraps his hand around your throat. You take a hoarse breath as he blocks your airway. You grab his hand around your neck and try to pull it away. You dig your nails into his palm, but he remains unmoved, pinning you to the sand.

He leans closer to you, and you take the opportunity to wrap your hand around his neck. He laughs, showing you his black teeth as he practically lays on top of you. His erection presses hard against your thigh as he grinds against you, grunting as he too begins to feel the need for air... and something more. You see black spots in front of your eyes, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe.

You let go of his neck completely, your hand falling next to your head, and you desperately try to use the remaining air to try and use your Bene Gesserit voice on him. But before you try to say anything, he loosens his grip so you can breathe, but his fingers are still lightly holding your neck.

Too busy breathing, you don't notice how he tilts his face towards you. Only when you feel his tongue on your neck do you realise how close he is to you. You freeze when he runs his tongue from your neck, from jaw to cheek, to taste your tears. You hear him moan softly. To confirm that your brain, stunned by lack of oxygen, didn't make it all up on its own, he rubs against you, and his hardness in his pants is clearly felt by you.

You just fucking hope he doesn't fuck you in front of those soldiers.

You meet his black eyes with yours. You shiver as he leans in, his bare chest pressed completely against you as he whispers into your ear.

"Damn you, witch... if you taste as sweet as your tears..." He growls. You feel dizzy, and you're not sure if it's because of the heat of the moment, the fact that he cut you off from oxygen for a while, or because you're overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth that radiates from the two of you.

You thank whoever is above you as he finally pulls away from you and stands up. He gives you his hand and helps you stand on your two feet. The soldiers obediently look at the ground, not daring to face the na-baron's gaze. You swallow hard, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Feyd barks orders at them, herding them back to training. You breathe a sigh of relief when he stops paying attention to you. You use your shawl to wipe his saliva and your sweat from your neck. You take your blade and are about to leave the arena to do the rest of your duties. But a tight grip on your wrist stops you. You tense up and turn around to face him again.

"Y/N." He murmurs, watching you carefully. You're sure that bruises are starting to appear on your neck from his tight squeeze. "Come to my chambers tonight." A cold shiver runs through you, but all you can do is nod and watch his retreating figure as he leaves to continue the training.

You hoped he didn't mean what you thought he meant by that... invitation. Otherwise, this could be your last night on Giedi Prime or the last night of your life. You're not sure yet.

For the first time, you feel fear as you walk to his chambers. He had called for you at such times before, but it never occurred to you that he wanted to do with you something else than discuss with you matters that were related to the Giedi Prime Court, the baron's plans, or other political matters and plots.

You shudder, wondering what might be waiting behind that door. You saw the condition in which some of his concubines left him. You didn't want to become one of them; you didn't want to be reduced to being his lover. It was fine as it was. You felt very good as his shadow, ears, and eyes. You liked conspiring together with him, making plans, and that hrill each time you managed to take down the enemies that were standing in your way. He was supposed to be your savior, not your persecutor. Were you that naive from the beginning, or has everything started going to shit recently?

The guards let you through without saying a word. With your heart pounding, you enter his chambers.

He's sitting on the bed. His harpies finish taking off his clothes, and at first you want to back away, but as soon as his gaze meets yours, you freeze. Feyd snaps at one of them. She hands him a glass of his wine while the others look at you furiously.

"Leave." He tells them, never taking his eyes off you. The women look at each other, not wanting to leave him, especially leave him alone with you. You guess that if it weren't for Feyd's presence, they would have attacked you long ago, trying to eat you before their master got a chance to touch you. Disgust arouses in you as you think that you may be soon reduced to their role and turned into one of them. "I said something." He growls at them, shifting his gaze from you to give them an angry glare.

The harpies are going out obediently, but they are not wasting an opportunity to hiss at you as they pass you to get to the exit. You hear one of them scream in pain as Feyd suddenly throws a knife at them right before they close the door behind them.

You were more used to his brutal reflexes than to his tender gestures. You actually preferred him being aggressive more. At least you could have predicted his movement. That's why you didn't even blink when he threw a blade at his pets.

"You wanted to see me." You start when you are alone. If you could impress him with anything other than your fighting skills and the ability to obtain various information by staying in the shadows, it would be that you never showed fear or insecurity. At least not to those who don't know you. Almost no one could read you. Almost.

However, Feyd saw that you were behaving differently. But he was tired of controlling himself around you. He couldn't do it anymore after tasting your lips, tasting your skin mixed with tears, and feeling your curves press against him. He wanted more. Much more than he ever got from you. And he was going to take it, whether you wanted it or not. He won't go crazy with lust for you... or at least not with as much longing for you each night as he used to.

"I did..." He stands up, and you're grateful he's at least wearing underwear as he walks over to his bar and pours a second glass of wine. He hands it to you and taps it with his own. He takes a few sips and looks at you. After a while, he sits down on his bed again and swirls his glass, playing with the remains of the wine. "Baron wants me to find a wife." He announces calmly, staring at you intently as he finishes his wine with one big sip.

You almost choke on your drink. You place your glass on the table and meet the careful gaze of his cold, blue eyes. You feel yourself starting to get hot with nerves.

"I beg you pardon?" You ask, still reeling from the shock of this sudden information.

"He wants me to find a broodmare who will bear my heirs since I am getting close to the appropriate age." He repeats, standing up gracefully. He approaches you, his steps slow and measured, as if he were approaching his prey in an arena. And for a moment, that's exactly how you feel. But you show no fear or any other emotion as he stops a few inches in front of you. You straighten up, your muscles tensing as you think about any answer.

"I… I can make the necessary preparations and check which high families…"

"Strip." He orders you. His tone is hoarse, leaving no room for any objection. He talks just as if he were asking you to pass him the dagger rather than to stand naked in front of him. As if it was an order he carried out every day and something you should be used to following.

"What?" You ask stupidly, unable to process what he said to you in your head.

"Have you gone deaf? Undress. Take your clothes off." He repeats mockingly. He crosses his arms, takes a few steps back, and leans against the wooden post of his bed as he watches you carefully, waiting for you to either obey his order or openly disobey him, giving him the opportunity to punish you... as if he even needed a reason to do so.

"My na-baron, I..."

"Exactly, Y/N. I am your na-baron. So follow my order. Now. I'm not in the mood for our games. You think I haven't noticed you've been playing hide-and-seek lately? I have given much worse punishments for such disobedience and attempts at self-indulgence. Take your clothes off, or I'll rip them from you."

For a moment, there is a deathly silence in his chambers. Only your breathing can be heard as you try to find any way out of this situation. But you can't think of anything. Your mind is empty, your hands are shaking a little, and all you can do is look at him, silently begging him to change his mind. A frown of impatience appears on his forehead, and you know you have to do something before he gets irritated and cuts you with one of his blades.

You sigh softly as you reach for the laces of your shirt. You take your time, slowly untying your bindings. Feyd devours every bit of skin you expose to him, and you swear you hear him hold his breath as your shirt lands on the floor. You get out of your shoes and socks very slowly.

Luckily, he doesn't comment on it and lets you get out of his clothes at your own pace. He knows he will win anyway. Tonight, he will finally stop playing cat and mouse with you and put his hands on what is rightfully his. So he savours every moment, making a plan in his head for what he will do to you tonight for this small act of rebellion.

He licks his lips as you stand in front of him in nothing but black underwear. His eyes take in your every curve, skin lesions, and scars that mark your warrior body. Oh yes. He was going to enjoy this night and finally unwrap his early birthday present.

"Good girl. You know where the bathroom is, right?" Without waiting for your response, he goes there, expecting you to follow him.

You swallow hard. You're glad that at least you managed to stay in your underwear and that you're not completely naked in front of him. You get out of your pile of clothes and leisurely follow him to the bathroom.

As soon as you enter, the door closes itself behind you. You sigh, the sweet smell of bath salts reaching your nostrils. But you don't feel so relaxed when the coolness of the bathroom and the black marble you stand barefoot on make you shiver and your nipples harden.

The na-baron's dark chuckle catches your attention. He's in a large, black bathtub, his hands resting on its edges as he enjoys the warm water, watching you closely, a spark of amusement shining in his icy blue eyes. He looks like a vulture waiting for the best moment to kill his prey.

"It had been a long day. Join me." He says, lifting his hand for you to take and step into the tub.

Having no choice, you obediently reach for his hand and release it as quickly as you can, sitting on the other side of the bathtub with your legs tucked under you so as not to accidentally touch him. He laughs, shaking his head in amusement.

"Not so far, my little mouse. Closer. I won't bite… well, not yet."

"I'm not a mouse." You snap at him. If you're going to die, at least die with dignity. Blinded by your anger at him, you sit on his lap before you can think it through. It's only his hardness pressing against your ass that makes you realize what a mistake you've made. You don't show your discomfort, though; you even lean against his chest, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around you just as the skin of your back meets his chest. You feel like you're in a cage, even though he's trying to calm you down by lazily drawing patterns on the skin of your arms. Your underwear soaks up the water and sticks to you, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

"Hand me my dagger."

You much prefer receiving such orders from him. You get up from the bathtub to get away from him for a moment, but he stops you by grabbing your hips tightly. He shakes his head and nods towards the dagger, which is literally at his fingertips. You bite your lip, keeping yourself from talking back at him, and reach for the weapon, handing it to him. You do this carefully, not wanting to cut the skin of your fingertips with the very sharp blade.

He cuts through the fabric of your bra with surgical grace. You gasp in outrage but don't move, knowing full well that you are only millimetres away from him taking your blood. You don't have to turn around to know he's smiling cockily as he traces the tip of his dagger across your skin to your panties.

"You know I can take it off by myself?" You ask as he traces patterns with the tip of his dagger on your stomach, around your navel. You hold your breath as he rests his chin on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him, rubbing against your still-clothed ass. You learn the hard way that the rumours about his... greatness were true.

"You had your chance at the beginning, now it's my turn. You're lucky that I'm not taking it off of you with my teeth anyway." He growls in your ear. You shiver as he presses a wet kiss on your shoulder, peppering kisses on your skin, down to your neck, and down to your jawbone before he rests his chin on your shoulder again.

"Sorry for interrupting your fun, my na-baron." You growl as he hooks the tip of his dagger against the fabric of your panties.

"No worries; you will compensate me in another way." He says, cutting your panties. He throws them behind him and lazily presses the dagger against your jawbone, forcing you to turn your head to look at him.

You meet his blue eyes with yours. His irises are practically non-existent, giving way entirely to his dilated, black pupils. He stares at you hungrily, licking his lips. He looks lost and indecisive, as if he didn't know what to do first.

His other hand, the one not holding the dagger pressed against your neck and jaw, explores your body, caressing your skin as if it were some kind of precious silk. You sigh as he cups your breast, which, of course, fits perfectly in his hand. You want to punch him in the face, but the dagger at your throat reminds you that one wrong move could cost you dearly. So you take his hand in yours instead, stopping him from over-exploring.

"You know... I tried to stay away from you. From the first moment I saw you... fighting with those daggers of yours... you're not as graceful in dancing as you are with them in your hands, taking down all your enemies. But you are Bene Gesserit. I know you're dangerous. So damn dangerous... if I were anyone else, you'd use your voice on me and tell me to castrate myself. Or you could make me magically disappear by throwing myself off some tall tower just because I thwarted your plans or looked at you wrong. Surprised? You may live in the shadows, my little witch, but I won't miss anything you do. You know I have trouble controlling myself... so how can I do that when you're so damn irresistible? The fact that I've endured all these years and not gotten close to you the way I wanted—the way I dreamed so many times at night—is quite a success, don't you think?"

He massages your breast, playing with it. You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he pinches your nipple. He leans closer to you, pressing his nose against your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. He removes his hand from your breast and moves your connected body along your body. You gasp, tightening your grip on his as he brushes your clit gently with his fingertip.

"I… I should go." You mumble, squirming in his grip, which is, of course, pointless and only makes him groan in pleasure as your ass rubs against his hard, leaking member.

"Stay. You won't oppose your na-baron, will you?" The bastard knows well that you won't openly oppose him, and he uses it as best he can. He moves your joined hands to his length, forcing you to wrap your hand around him. He hisses, pressing the blade closer to your throat and tightening his grip on your hand as he guides yours along his length the way he wants. "Your skin is so soft… and that beautiful hair that you needlessly hide… you don't know how many times I imagined pulling you by it." He mumbles into your neck. The hand with the dagger now presses against your chest, only causing your heart to beat much faster. A wave of heat washes over you, your traitorous pussy clenching desperately as you hear his moans in your ear.

"Feyd..." You moan as his hand releases yours and works at your desperate pussy. He growls, feeling the warmth of your walls around his fingers and the wetness he caused. You remove your hand from his member and tighten your grip on his hand, trying to push him away from your private parts in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation.

"Don't fight. Just give yourself to me, Y/N. Let me show you how much you've lost while trying to hide yourself from me in your shadows…" He growls, pressing the tip of the dagger to your nipple. You freeze, moaning as he becomes stiffened by the sheer movement of his blade.

He bites into your neck, making you moan loudly and throwing your head back. He licks and sucks your neck, rubbing his painfully hard cock against your pussy. The water splashes around you, some of it spilling out of the tub due to his sudden movements. A few inches deeper, and he would have slammed into you, bisecting you with his huge cock, which stood ready for you from the moment he saw you in your underwear.

"Can you feel it? Can you feel what you're doing to me? How hard I am because of you? It's like this every time you hand me my blade, perfectly balanced and sharpened, every time you meet all my needs without even communicating with me, you just know what I want by looking at me, my little witch. So tell me, who is a better partner for me than my right hand? Who can I trust more than you? Who should I fuck, full of my heirs, if not you?"

You don't respond; you can't find any words as your brain desperately tries to shout out the pleasure he's giving you and force you to resist him. Unsuccessfully. The warmth of the water, his body, his scent, and his precise, deliberate movements cut off your thoughts. Feyd is practically salivating at the sight of you so lost in lust and desire as he witnesses you lose control for the first time.

He throws away the dagger, which falls with a crash onto the marble floor. Neither of you care as he grabs your hips and, in one smooth, quick movement, turns you around so you can face him.

You only have time to draw in a quick breath before he demands your mouth. You moan into his lips as he kisses you with the same passion and intensity as he did a few weeks ago at the party after you won the fight. You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tightly, placing his hands on your back as he presses you against him. You don't stand a chance against his strength. You can resist him, but you know it won't be long before you collapse from exhaustion. You bite his lip until you draw blood, which only causes him to groan and have him grind against you, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

You gasp as he leaves your lips for a while and pulls your hair, exposing your throat to him so he can mark it even more. He sucks on your skin, littering it with hickeys as you feel him slowly move, positioning himself beneath you so that his member presses against the entrance of your pussy.

And just as he's about to join your bodies, to make you two one, to feel your hot, wet, tight walls around him, there's a knock on the bathroom door.

This time, he's the one who freezes, tightening his hold on you. You feel like he's making sure he hasn't misheard or imagined it in this heated moment between you, but when the knocking sounds a second time, he realises it's real.

You pray with gratitude for the soul of the fool who dared to interrupt him, because you know that even if it were something important, he would not live to see the morning.

"What?!" He growls furiously, not letting you go, not letting you move an inch from him, still believing that he can quickly get rid of the intruder and go back to ravaging you, maybe even fucking you while he talks to whoever is standing in front of that damned door. Though Feyd preferred to be fully focused on you when he took you for the first time. However, he was convinced that if he didn't feel you around him soon, he would go crazy. He is so close... all he had to do was push a little more...

"My lord na-baron. The Baron wants to see you. It's very important."

You see pure rage bubbling in his eyes. He growls, shifting you from his lap as he stands up. You look down as you see all of him very clearly, especially what you were exposed to a few moments ago. He throws a towel at you, and you automatically catch it. He wraps one around his waist before he comes back to you again and grabs your throat. He gives you a crazy, passionate kiss, stroking your neck and appreciating the marks he made before pulling away from you.

"We'll come back to it, little witch." He leaves you with that promise, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You hear him shouting something at his harpies, and you shudder at the thought of having to walk past them to get out of here. You lean back against the tub, still sitting in the now-cold water, as you slowly process everything that happened.

You succeeded this time, but you know you won't be so lucky next time. You could either accept... your new responsibilities and his expectations of you, or you could try to break free from him, risking your life.

It was a decision to be made in the privacy of your own chambers. For now, you let yourself lie in the cool water, fully aware that if you weren't interrupted now, he would fuck you silly, likely planting his seed inside you.

You ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be a whore, a vessel for their crazy breeding plan. Apparently, you just changed the owner of your womb. You had to do something if you didn't want to end up as originally intended—as the mother of the future Kwisatz Haderach.

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wulfhalls · 10 months ago

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There is no measuring Muad'Dib's motives by ordinary standards. In the moment of his triumph, he saw the death prepared for him, yet he accepted the treachery. Can you say he did this out of a sense of justice? Whose justice, then? Remember, we speak now of the Muad'Dib who ordered battle drums made from his enemies' skins, the Muad'Dib who denied the conventions of his ducal past with a wave of the hand, saying merely: 'I am the Kwisatz Haderach. That is reason enough.”

TIMOTHEE CHALAMET AS PAUL MUAD'DIB ATREIDES

#dune #dune part two #duneedit #paul atreides #timothée chalamet #tchalametedit #doyouevenfilm #fyeahmovies

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andy-15-07 · 10 months ago

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can you do a fic with Paul Atreides, where Y/n is a bene gesserit and they find he is the One

Our love is powerful

masterlist ! pairing: Paul Atreides x reader

Dune Masterlist

In the mystical world of Arrakis, where sand dunes whispered ancient secrets, Paul Atreides and you, a Bene Gesserit, found yourselves entwined in a destiny written in the sands of time. The air in the Sietch was charged with anticipation as the Bene Gesserit sisterhood, with their millennia-old knowledge, discerned a truth that transcended the ordinary.

As you and Paul stood in the sacred chambers of the Bene Gesserit, the reverence in the air hinted at the gravity of the moment. The sisterhood, with their eyes that held the wisdom of countless generations, regarded Paul with a mix of expectation and acknowledgment.

"Y/N," one of the elder Bene Gesserit addressed you, "the threads of fate have woven a tapestry that binds your path with that of Paul Atreides. He is the One—the Kwisatz Haderach."

The realization hung in the air, a moment that echoed through the corridors of time. Paul, with his piercing blue eyes and a destiny that weighed heavily on his shoulders, looked at you with a mix of curiosity and acceptance.

"What does this mean?" Paul inquired, the weight of the prophecy settling on his young shoulders.

The elder Bene Gesserit stepped forward, her voice a melodic resonance that carried the echoes of ancient wisdom. "The Kwisatz Haderach—the One who can bridge space and time, unlocking the secrets of the universe. He who possesses both male and female ancestral memories, breaking the limitations that have bound humanity."

You, a Bene Gesserit bound by duty and destiny, met Paul's gaze with a depth of understanding. "Paul, you are the culmination of a plan set in motion by the Bene Gesserit sisterhood. The threads of our bloodlines converge in you."

The gravity of the revelation seemed to settle in the room. Paul, born into a lineage of political intrigue and ancient prophecy, found himself at the crossroads of destiny.

As you and Paul retreated from the sacred chambers, the Sietch buzzed with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. The sands of Arrakis seemed to echo the whispers of the prophecy that had been unveiled.

"Y/N," Paul began, his voice a quiet contemplation, "what does it mean for us? For our relationship?"

You turned to him, your eyes reflecting the weight of the truth. "Paul, our connection goes beyond the prophecy. The Bene Gesserit may have seen the threads of fate, but our love is a force that transcends destiny. Together, we navigate the path that unfolds before us."

The days that followed were filled with the intensity of preparation, as Paul embraced the training and revelations that came with being the Kwisatz Haderach. The Bene Gesserit sisterhood, with their watchful eyes, guided him through the intricacies of their ancient knowledge.

Amidst the trials and tribulations, your connection with Paul deepened. As he grappled with the weight of his destiny, your presence became a source of solace and understanding. Late nights were spent beneath the stars, the two of you seeking refuge in each other's arms.

One evening, as the desert winds whispered tales of destiny, Paul looked at you with a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Y/N, I may be the Kwisatz Haderach, but my heart belongs to you. Our love will be the anchor as I navigate the complexities of this path."

You smiled, a reassurance that transcended words. "Paul, no prophecy can diminish the love we share. The threads of fate may guide your journey, but our connection is a beacon that lights the way."

As Paul embraced his destiny, the sands of Arrakis witnessed a love story that defied the limitations of prophecy. Together, you and Paul Atreides forged a path that merged ancient wisdom with the unwavering power of love—a journey that echoed through the sands of time, leaving an indelible mark on the destiny of Arrakis.

#paul atreides imagines #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x female reader #paul atreides x you #paul atreides #paul atreides imagine #dune x you #dune x reader #dune imagines #dune imagine #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet x reader

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violetlichen · 4 months ago

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nobody puts my bald baby in a corner

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen / Named Atreides wife A little nsfw but that's not the point. Domestic family life. They have five kids and Feyd desperately wants another. Wifey won't oblige. Don't pay attention to the other characters and Houses I included, I don't know anything about Dune and I just pulled from the fandom wiki or made them up. Their son is not the Kwisatz Haderach either!

****if you're somebody who works at tumblr hq reading this because i accidentally reported my own fic im really sorry****

It has been five years since Feyd-Rautha last saw his wife swell with his child.

It is entirely by her design, and certainly not for lack of trying. He ravages her senseless almost every night, but after five children, the ever infuriating Diana Atreides refuses to give him another. As a Bene Gesserit, it is within her power to do so; the witches are able to bend their own reproduction to their will, and Feyd-Rautha believes she likes his methods of convincing her too much to give him what he wants.

Tonight, he almost has her hooked. He kisses her knee and up her bare thigh, licking and sucking the plush skin there. She barely acknowledges him and lets him fondle her as he pleases, lost in her own thoughts.

“She’s too old for him. He’s just a boy.”

They are currently hosting several of the Great Houses. Earlier at dinner, he and Diana were approached by the Duke of Ginaz, who suggested they betroth his daughter to their oldest son, Aleksei. Diana had hidden her frown behind her glass of wine, but Feyd-Rautha had seen it and filed it away for later, thanking the Duke for his time.

He hums against her thigh, tongueing over the faint bruise he made. He can use this.

“He will be a man soon,” he reminds her. He pulls her leg over his shoulder as he shifts up the bed, now eye level with her weeping cunt. His mouth waters. “Even if we refuse this proposal, there will be others.”

He knows his wife wants to say more, but the words die in her throat when he shoves his nose against her, inhaling her scent and releasing a shaky breath. He pretends it is for her benefit, but really, this is all for him. With his fingers pulling apart the seam of her, his tongue lolls out, and Feyd-Rautha feasts.

When he has had his fill of her pleasure, he crawls up the length of her body. She pants underneath him, back arching and eyes squeezing shut like a satisfied cat, her neck exposed and vulnerable. He licks off the sweat there.

“It will not stop with Aleksei,” he says, leaning over her.

Diana scowls. She shoves him, but he does not yield. He grasps her hand, pulling it away from his chest and up to his mouth, where he kisses her fingers.

He knows he is being cruel, rubbing salt in her wound. Her children are growing. At twelve years old, Aleksei is admittedly still too young to seriously consider for marriage, but the coming years will go by in a blink. First it will be Aleksei, then Nikita shortly after, and then Maxim – although their youngest and most unstable son will be difficult to pawn off, Feyd-Rautha thinks.

His girls are another story. Sasha and Grisha were both gifted their mother’s beauty, but it is Grisha, their youngest, who takes after Feyd-Rautha the most. She is the only one of his children who did not inherit those dark Atreides curls. She is perfect; wholly Harkonnen, like her father. He knows he will feel how Diana does now when it is time for Grisha to leave his side.

It is why he fucks into his wife now, flexing his hips slowly and purposefully, so she feels every inch of his longing. He staves off the urge to empty himself inside of her prematurely, already aching to see her breasts swollen and leaking.

He stops, trying to catch his breath. He pulls back from Diana to thumb over her pearl, grinding his length into her. “Shall I leave you like this, wife?” he asks her.

“Don’t you dare,” she snaps, her hips chasing his fingers.

“I can give you what you want,” he taunts. “I will pump you full of my children happily. What is one more?”

Diana does not answer, but he sees her breaking, just as he is. He holds her legs open, jutting into the apex of them, growling as he stares her down, willing her to change her mind. She hides her fears behind her pleasure, hides the tear sliding down her cheek by turning her face into the pillow, taking what he gives her.

What is one more child? Certainly not the solution to her problem. It is only a delay of the inevitable, that one day they will all grow up and no longer need her. Feyd-Rautha knows this. But he hopes to delay his wife’s suffering, just as he will delay her gratification if she does not give him what he wants.

When he pumps his load into her, he knows she is not satisfied. He breathes through his own satisfaction, nose flaring like a bull, but she does not complain like he expected her to. She does not roll him over to claim him, or bring her fingers to her cunt to finish what he started, his eyes on her hole, full of his spend.

Instead she buries her face in her hands. Feyd-Rautha leans his weight onto her and pulls her hands away, revealing her face to him. She blinks at him, her lashes wet and clumping together.

He knows what she is feeling. “I feel it, too,” he says. “Let me give you another, my darling.”

Diana nods and looks away, breathing out a held breath. “Alright,” she says. Her eyes soften fondly when they focus on him again. “Alright.”

They lay together for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Feyd-Rautha does not know if tonight will be the night, but he hopes. He hopes she sees it the way he does -- a continuation of their happiness, not the eventual ending of it. He kisses every part of Diana he can reach, and she cuddles into him, their limbs a tangled mess.

A little later into the night, a knock on the door breaks their comfortable silence. Feyd-Rautha grunts, already irritated, and removes himself from her, slipping on a robe and his pants.

When he opens the door, he finds a wide-eyed servant. “It is the children, Baron Harkonnen.”

Feyd-Rautha frowns and widens the door, panic souring him. “Where are they?”

“They are safe, Baron Harkonnen, but there has been a bit of trouble.”

Diana appears behind him, wrapping her robe around her waist. "What sort of trouble?" she asks, brow furrowed.

“It will be best if you follow me to the drawing room within the guest wing, Baroness.”

Diana whips past Feyd-Rautha and the servant, not waiting for either of them to lead her to the guest wing. Feyd-Rautha follows after her, and he knows to expect his boys. It is not the first time he was awoken by something they have done when they should have been sleeping, but it does concern him that they were found in the guest wing.

Although he is the youngest son, Maxim is the instigator of all things. Not as bright as the others, he is aggressive and impulsive, often letting his hands speak for him. He acts before he thinks, and it frustrates Diana greatly. Many nights Feyd-Rautha has been brought before Maxim in the kitchens, where he sticks his grubby hands into pies and picks at berries meant for the morning’s breakfast. The guards know not to let him out of his room at night without their explicit permission.

But as explosive as Maxim is, it is Aleksei who reminds Feyd-Rautha the most of his own brother, Beast Rabban. His oldest son is proud and quick to anger, easily riled by Maxim and his sisters who poke and prod at him in the ways only younger siblings can. Feyd-Rautha does his best to temper Aleksei, to show him the value in patience, in choosing his battles.

Nikita, self-sufficient boy that he is, waits until the battles are over and won to pick at what remains. He watches. Feyd-Rautha suspects Diana favors him over the others, though she will never admit it.

All of them dote on their sisters. Sasha has them carry her around on their backs, even when they are tired and sore and agitated from their training. They still treat Grisha like she is their baby, although she is almost six years old now and loathes the comparison.

Each of them, in their own ways, bring honor to their House. It is not something he had ever imagined for himself when thinking about his future. Feyd-Rautha is proud of his children, and he would not be disinclined to have another.

The chaos they find upon entering the drawing room is enough for him to change his mind.

The lord and lady from Zanbar, whose names Feyd-Rautha has forgotten, fawn over their young daughter, who sits upon an ottoman in front of the fireplace, her face red and streaked with tears. She cries as she pulls at what remains of her blonde hair. It has been crudely chopped off, the ends blunt and jagged like it had been sawed with a knife.

Their boys stand sullenly in front of the governess, disheveled in her bathrobe and still flustered from being awoken in the middle of the night to collect them. Aleksei folds his arms over his chest, his head full of curly dark hair held high. Next to him, Nikita remains calm in the face of their impending scolding. He very likely had done nothing wrong but bear witness to the antics of his rowdy brothers. Meanwhile, Maxim openly glares at the small weeping girl. She deserved what she got, and he is waiting for a reason to give her more to cry over.

“What happened?” Diana asks, dismayed.

“Your sons snuck into my daughter’s bedchamber and cut her hair off while she slept!” the lord’s wife snaps, borderline hysterical. “Where were her guards? How was this allowed to happen?”

She is reaching an unnatural decibel, but withers under the glare Feyd-Rautha shoots her. They were pulled from their bed for this? His darkening expression does not fully quell the lady's anger, and she gawks at her husband, willing him to say something.

"I'm sure there's an explanation," the lord offers unhelpfully, averting his timid gaze.

Diana stills, taking in the sight of the poor girl’s hacked hair. With a deep inhale, she turns to the boys, her hand finding her hip. “Explain yourselves.”

“She was mocking Grisha, mother,” Maxim says, scowling. “We heard her at dinner.”

Aleksei nods, more self-righteous and refined in his anger. “She laughed at Grisha and made her cry because she doesn’t have hair.” He sneers when the lord’s daughter wails a little louder at this, because she, too, does not have hair now. “She called her ugly.”

Diana looks heartbroken over this, but her Bene Gesserit training helps to quickly neutralize her face. She looks to Nikita. “And you? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I told them not to.”

Feyd-Rautha believes him. Nikita is no less ruthless, but he is also a diplomat by nature, preferring more uninvolved methods of justice or revenge. This boldness is certainly the work of his brothers.

Feyd-Rautha cannot wait to reward them handsomely for it.

Diana believes Nikita as well, for she turns back to the other two. “Apologize to Lady Rosalind.”

“But mother, she–”

“Enough,” Feyd-Rautha rasps, growing tired of the spectacle. “Do as your mother says, so we may all retire to our beds.” He shoots another glare at the lord and lady, who bluster under his attention, too afraid of him to protest again.

Aleksei and Maxim step forward and bow to the young girl. “We’re sorry,” they echo, not meaning it at all.

Knowing that is the best she will get from them, Diana exhales deeply and dismisses them back to their rooms, escorted by their governess to make sure they get there and do not take any more detours. Nikita follows, ever their solemn shadow.

Diana kneels down beside Lady Rosalind. “Don’t fret. Hair grows back,” she soothes. The girl hiccups, and Diana gently brushes the hair out of her eyes before standing up to face her parents again. “I apologize on behalf of my sons. As you can see, they love their sister very much and do not take kindly to those who upset her.”

The lord and lady of Zanbar try to hide their grimaces. They know their indignancy is unfounded now that they know their daughter had started this. “Baroness, I must apologize–” the lord starts.

“That won’t be necessary,” Diana interrupts, putting a graceful hand up to stop him. “Let’s put this unpleasantness behind us. My husband and I will question our guards to understand how this was allowed to happen. Those responsible will be thoroughly punished.” She looks at Feyd-Rautha. “That includes our sons.”

This seems to satisfy the lord and lady enough to gather up their snot nosed daughter and leave, perhaps vowing to never step foot on Giedi Prime again. Feyd-Rautha will not miss them.

He and Diana walk back to their bedchamber in an agitated silence, until she breaks it.

“Still want another?” she asks him, deadpan.

“Not particularly. Would you still like me to thoroughly punish them?”

“Not particularly.”

Feyd-Rautha hums, and he reaches for her hand.

The next morning, Feyd-Rautha walks over to Grisha where she sits on the wide stone fence, her little legs dangling over the side. The boys train in the yard, and she watches with her dolls, acting out the sparring techniques she sees with them. He kisses her head, smooth like his. She ignores him, too caught up in supervising the training of her dolls.

Feyd-Rautha smiles. “Who is winning?” he asks.

One of the dolls headbutts the other. Their yarn-like hair swings around violently. It is hard to tell under the light of the black sun, but he thinks one of them is blonde. That one plops to the ground, landing in the sand.

Grisha raises the hand of the victorious doll the way she sees her father raise his in the arena. “This one,” she tells him.

“Well fought,” Feyd-Rautha says proudly. He bends down to pick up the doll and hands it to her. He watches her run her fingers through the doll’s hair, brushing the sand out of it with great care.

One day, his daughter will train alongside her brothers. She will have no need for hair then. It would just get in her way, and make her easier to grab by her opponents. She will see the use in this, and appreciate what makes her Harkonnen.

For now, Feyd-Rautha cups her head and kisses her again. He calls her his beautiful girl, and returns to the yard, picking up where he and the boys left off.

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x oc #dune part 2 #mine #writing

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sp4ceboo · 9 months ago

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Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal

tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it

wc: 3.9k

Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.

It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.

He misses how you miss nothing.

You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.

The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.

Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.

He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.

But you see it.

You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.

It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.

You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.

He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.

Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.

‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’

You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’

You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.

Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’

‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.

Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.

He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’

You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’

Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.

‘Get away from me.’

Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.

Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.

There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.

You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.

‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’

You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’

He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’

‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’

Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.

And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.

Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’

‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.

‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.

As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.

Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.

‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.

It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.

‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.

He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’

You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.

Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.

You spit on him.

It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.

His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.

When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.

Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.

‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.

Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.

‘For whom do you wait, husband?’

As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.

‘Pathetic.’

You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.

‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.

This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.

His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.

‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’

You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.

Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.

‘Feeling okay?’

He nods.

‘Words,’ you chide.

‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’

You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.

‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.

‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’

His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’

You smile. ‘As you wish.’

You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.

Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.

As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.

Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.

‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’

He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’

All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.

Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.

He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.

‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’

His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.

Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.

‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’

A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.

Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.

Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.

There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.

‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’

‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’

Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.

You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.

‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’

‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’

Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?

Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.

Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.

‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’

best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍

dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable

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kihyunsflavor · 9 months ago

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Cross my heart part 1

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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.

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#feyd rautha #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha x reader #dune x reader #dune imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fic #austin butler x reader #dune fanfic #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #kihyunsflavor

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muxshwriting · 6 days ago

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a world of dreams

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

summary: Feyd’s wife was always branded as a dreamer, content to spend a day in her books. but her husband would always entertain her dreams, especially when they save her life /or/ basically the request || warnings: violence, haters gonna hate, death, blood || word count: 1658 || masterlist

REQUEST: I’ve always wondered how Feyd Rautha would handle having a wife like Helaena who speaks in riddles and flinches at loud noises and violence. Maybe an Atreides daughter they’re supposed to create the Kwisatz Haderach with? In a Universe where Jessica stayed loyal to the bene Gesserit. I’d love to know how someone like Feyd would react to her telling him he’s scared the way Helaena does to Aegon in hotd. Maybe he’d have very little patience for her but I could also see him bonding with someone like that. Also I think that someone with Helaena’s ability to retreat inside her own mind would be able to survive on Giedi Prime.

Your fate had been set in stone since your very conception, meant to mend the relationship between two houses that had been at war for centuries and bring forward the greatest mind the universe had ever seen. Jessica had trained you in the Bene Gesserit way since you were young, always believing that your bloodline would be famed for generations after.

But you didn’t want to be famed or revered or feared. You wanted nothing more than to be loved, completely loved. When you learned of your betrothed, there was a sadness that overtook you, an accepting that your husband may never truly love you. He was famed for his cruelty, his majesty in the arena and his fighting prowess. He was not known for his ventless and his love, no Harkonnen ever had been.

The first time you met eyes with your future husband, there was a silent understanding that passed between you two. He was a young boy, barely older than you and yet he looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Perhaps there could be a connection between you two, despite your afflictions.

Your father called it dreaming, ignoring whatever technical explanation your mother held. There were things you saw that no sane man could explain and yet they were always true. They came to you in the silent moments of the day, when you read or sketched. You had loved it growing up, seeing glimpses of things yet to come but as you grew, they only ever turned darker.

The diplomatic visit to Geidi Prime was short and yet long enough for you to spend a few hours alone with Feyd. There was an itching under your skin from being on the planet, a discomfort that lingered as you pushed down any dreams that threatened to reveal themselves.

You sat across from Feyd, your hands twisting in your lap.

“What do you like to do?” His voice was soft, always soft when he was with you but the sterness returned the moment someone else entered the room.

You wondered if someone had shared your condition with him. “I read. I draw.” Around him, you didn't feel the necessity to boast of your suitable talents your parents had raised you on. The itching had ceased, even if it was just for a moment. “You?”

“I fight- I'm good at fighting.” He corrected himself. For a moment it seemed like he was done talking, but then he met your gaze and continued. “I don't have much to time to do things I like.”

“Perhaps when we are wed, you will have time to explore things you enjoy.” You meant nothing by it, only that you hoped your husband could find a hobby not controlled or pushed onto him by his Uncle.

Feyd smiled in response and you got the distinct feeling that everything would be alright if you married him. But you could not marry him without guilt unless you told him yourself what you were.

“I dream.” You say, unsure of how to tell him.

Feyd was slightly amused, “You dream? I’m sure many do.”

“No.” You quickly reply. “I see things, visions almost. They are never truly clear, only glimpses of the future.”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t want you to marry me if you didn’t know. I only hope you understand and do not judge me for something beyond my control.”

Feyd’s expression softened as he took stock of the panicked breaking out of your being. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

The hopefulness in your eyes glistened as you stood, offering Feyd a small bow before leaving the room and returning to your mother and father.

When your day of union arrived, it was a rather happy occasion. Your family smiled as you stayed by Feyd’s side, your hand twisted with his. There was a soft and genuine look of almost-love everytime he looked at you. All that look needed was time to evolve into true love that would pull him under without hesitation. Feyd would let himself be taken by everything you are and he would even beg for it. Your mother and father could see the affection you already shared and knew nothing would come between you.

The Baron, on the other hand, had indifference covering his face all day. This was not a joyous occasion, but a simple ceremony that had to be done in order to end the conflict he wanted to continue. However, this union would bring him more power than war would, and he would just have to accept that.

Feyd reached for two glasses and passed one to you, raising his in a toast. “To the rest of our lives?”

“To the rest of our lives.” You agreed, clinking your glass with his and taking a drink.

Once you had placed your glass back down, Feyd leant forward to capture your lips, letting his heart float like only you could make him. Your marriage was nothing more than picturesque. There was finally peace felt throughout the universe and yet there were some who were still not happy.

The Emperor, despite suggesting the match to weaken the houses and cause friction, watched as they came together in love and only grew stronger. The Atreides were a threat to his reign long before, but with the Harkonnens now as allies, there was nothing that could stop them if they desired his throne.

The final straw came when news of an heir flowed throughout the Imperium. The Atreides and Harkonnens would soon have an heir that would bind them with blood, for eternity.

Your husband had been even more protective of you since the beginning of your pregnancy, barely wanting to leave you alone. The dreams had shown you your daughter, a beautiful girl that was the mix of both you and Feyd. But there was one persistent dream that shook you to your core.

“Feyd?”

“Yes my love?” The nickname had never stopped, ever since the wedding.

“I'm afriad.”

Feyd's face flashed with confusion for a moment as his eyes darted around the room. “What are you afraid of my love? Our families are united, no one would dare stand against Harkonnens and Atreides united. The babe is well, she is growing stronger by the day.”

“There are snakes crawling through the city.” Your voice is a whisper, trembling with every word. You weren’t really aware of what your words meant, only repeating what your mind brought forward.

Feyd smiled at his wife’s words. “There are no snakes on Geidi Prime, my love. They cannot survive here.” He takes a seat next to you, pulling you closer to him as if to protect you.

“They will worm their way to our palace.”

“Then I will double our guard and order lockdown at the slightest threat.” He said it with such conviction that you were almost convinced.

“But-“

“What have I said?” Feyd asked you. “I would never let anything hurt you or our children. There is nothing that can get into our palace unless I will it.”

You let the dream sit in the back of your mind, pushing it away from thought but not forgetting. And it did you well not to forget when you couldn’t sleep one night and a echoing crash startled you. No one else awoke and you took the risk to glance outside your room, where your guards stood to attention.

“Is everything alright Na-Baroness?”

You forced a smile. “All is fine. Just… stay alert.” With nothing else to say, you turn and return to your bed.

Feyd was not disturbed but you found yourself reaching under his pillow to touch the knife he always kept there. It was a reassuring reminder that if your dream came true tonight, there was something Feyd could do. You lay, the blank ceiling taunting you and your ears hearing every footstep and breath people made.

It was only as you had begun drifting back to sleep that a muffled shout came from the hallway and your heart stuttered. You reached over, shaking Feyd awake as he quickly looked around before settling his eyes on your own frantic ones.

“What’s going on?”

Your breath trembled once more. “The snakes are here.”

At your words, Feyd reached for the knife and practically jumped out of bed, directing you to the corner of the room furthest from the door, furthest from harm. The thump of a body was heard and Feyd tightened his grip, activating his shield.

Two men, Imperial soldiers burst through the door and you caught sight of the bodies of two others as well as your guards. Terror gripped you, a hatred of blood instilled in you since you were a young girl. Your hand flew to your mouth as you shrunk into the corner even more, wishing the floor would swallow you up.

Feyd leapt forward, his body practised in fighting people at a moments notice. His knife carved flesh, splattering blood over the room. A small scream escaped your lips as the bodies crashed to the floor and your husband stood in the centre of your room, blood dripping from the knife still in his hand.

He turned to face you, throwing the knife across the room and rushing towards you. You practically threw yourself into his arms and he squeezed you close to his chest and rested his head on yours.

“You’re okay.” He said, letting you feel his steady heartbeat against your rapid one. “The snakes are gone.”

“The snakes-?”

“They’re gone. We’re okay.” He pulled away just enough to take your hand and pull it down to your stomach. “She’s okay, you’re okay. We are all okay. No one can hurt you.”

You let your panic settle and relax into his arms. Everyone’s alive. You can manage whatever comes next, you can let the snakes try but they will never be able to bite you.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

#feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd-rautha harkonnen #dune #dune x reader #dune part two #dune part 2 #muxsh #muxshwriting

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