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foreverdolly · 1 month

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

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

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

word count: 5.3k

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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed.

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before.

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother.

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious.

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.”

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger.

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early.

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast.

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free.

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie.

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home.

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar.

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals.

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries.

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed.

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience.

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you.

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress.

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind.

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand.

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you.

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.”

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling.

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you.

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door.

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead.

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you.

“As they have been taught, your reverence.”

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years.

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down.

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.”

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection.

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you.

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful.

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before.

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door.

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you.

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face.

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you.

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?”

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one.

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down.

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting.

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat.

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction.

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight.

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep.

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.”

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head.

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.”

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room.

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen.

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful. “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime.

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different?

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different.

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew.

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with.

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing.

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap.

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively.

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face.

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke.

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.”

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for.

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly.

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul.

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted.

“Soon.”

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up.

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation.

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly.

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent.

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better.

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right.

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach.

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence.

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive.

But god, you wanted to live.

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer.

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front.

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression.

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view.

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability.

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd.

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime.

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago.

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you.

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?”

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes.

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side.

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements.

The two of you were communicating.

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?”

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you.

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days.

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child.

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him. He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress.

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in.

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother.

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it.

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of.

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves.

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position.

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you.

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin.

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this.

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime.

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge.

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?”

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter.

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing.

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.”

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame.

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir.

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.”

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough.

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before.

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed.

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain.

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover.

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer.

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying.

Animal, indeed.

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #austin butler x reader #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune fanfiction #austin butler fic #feyd rautha fic

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valeskafics · 13 days

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"A Family Affair" - Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader x Paul Atreides

a/n: so there is also irulan/reader, paul/feyd, AND paul/irulan in this BUT the main pairing is feyd/reader/paul. if incest makes you squicky, feel free to scroll past, absolutely zero judgement. many thanks to @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive & @dreamlandcreations for your contributions to this crazy fic, i hope you all enjoy! 🩷

Summary: You, Feyd, and Paul come to an agreement. One others do not seem to agree with.

TW: INCEST, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, voyeurism/exhibitionism, dom!paul, hair pulling, p in v sex, creampie AND inkpie, breeding kink, choking, oral f receiving, fingering, anal sex, double penetration, switch!reader, switch!feyd, murder, blood kink, too many things to count i apologize if i missed any, polyamory idk if that's a tw?

Word Count: 3,060

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You and Paul had always been close - closer than most. You did everything together, spending every waking moment in each other’s company. At first, it was chalked up to twins being twins. After all, you were each other’s dearest friends in addition to being siblings. It wasn’t until your teen years that your mother began to suspect something deeper between the two of you. The way your gaze lingered on Paul’s hands, his lips… The way Paul touched you longer than necessary when helping you train, reluctant to release you as if he never wanted to let you go. However, she says nothing. Because this is, after all, her doing.

Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam was right. In her selfishness, her desire to prove her love to your father, your mother bore him a son when she was meant to only bear him a daughter. She was so conflicted as she made the decision, struggling with it for the greater part of the conception and pregnancy. She chose to give birth to twins, one boy and one girl, to appease both the Bene Gesserit and to please her beloved Leto, to give him the heir he needed. But her decision, her conflict, was settled far too late. In deciding to bear twins, Lady Jessica ripped a single entity of life, one whose soul had already begun to develop, into two separate beings. Paul and you were each other’s other half in every possible sense of the word.

From your infancy, that longing was there, that deep-seated need to be near each other. You were meant to be one - one body, one soul, one heart. And the only way that burning desire was sated was by remaining near each other. Not even the Bene Gesserit completely understand how this happened. Only your mother, Paul, and you know the truth of the matter. And despite what many would call an inconvenience, the two of you are able to lean on each other, learn everything together faster than you would be able to alone. And so, she allows it.

By the time the two of you are eighteen, you have taken each other as lovers. It is the closest you have ever felt to being one again, and so, you crave each other’s touch, seeking each other out whenever you are able. And this works, for a time. Until you are reminded of the fact that since you are both of age now, you have duties to uphold to both your house and the fulfillment of the Bene Gesserit prophecy. Running away together is not an option. Both of you are too loyal to your house, to your parents to consider such a thing. And so, you concoct a plan to make all this work to your advantage.

From a young age, you have been told that you are to marry Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And when you turn nineteen, he comes to Caladan to begin your courting. He seems out of place at first, a man of violence and bloodshed on your peaceful planet. But something stirs deep within him as you walk toward him, no, glide - all effortless grace and charming smiles, welcoming him to your home alongside your brother.

Feyd is eager to spend time with you, finding you quite unlike any woman he ever met on Giedi Prime. His Harpies? He was fond of them, but you? You are something else entirely. You are quick-witted, able to keep him on his toes with your acerbic sense of humor, your complete lack of fear toward him. He watches you and your brother train, enjoying sparring with the two of you from time to time, joining in on your lessons. However, Paul lets it be known that the two of you come as a packaged deal. The two of you are always together. He finds fighting the two of you at once rather… Intriguing. You work together as one, anticipating each other’s movements and making a formidable foe. It fascinates him to see siblings as close as you are whereas he and Rabban have always despised each other.

You cuddle up to his side while Paul walks at his other when you take him to the beach, the lake… Seating him between the two of you at your lessons. And you are both… So very affectionate. Paul’s “brotherly” hand on his shoulder, squeezing with a knowing smirk. Your hand caressing his thigh as you smile at him mischievously. And Feyd realizes it. You both want him. The two of you intrigue him, the way you seem to communicate without words, the way your gazes linger on him. And his gaze lingers on you both as well.

Feyd, the two of you come to realize, is a stickler for punctuality. He is always early for your walks, your lessons, your sparring sessions. Always waiting there, twirling the blade of his knife before his heavy gaze settles on you, that handsome smirk curling on his lips. Today is no exception. You invited him to go to the lake once again with you and Paul, stating you had a surprise for him. Feyd wonders if you finally mean to give in to the attraction that clearly exists between you, the wedding now being only one month away. So, as always, he arrives nearly fifteen minutes early, leaning against the wall outside your chambers, waiting for Paul to show up as well.

Except he’s greeted by something else entirely.

He hears it first, your moans of Paul’s name. Your door is cracked ever so slightly, and so he steps closer, wanting to confirm his suspicions. Feyd peers inside, transfixed by the sight of you and Paul standing beside your bed. Paul pulls at a loose string on the bodice of your dress, tugging you closer to him.

“Well?” You stare at him, arching a brow, “Are you going to fuck me or just stare at me?”

Feyd watches Paul grab you by the jaw, clicking his tongue as if to scold you, “Don’t be a brat with me, sister. I might just have to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours until it’s too sore to speak if you do that.”

You smirk up at him, pulling him toward you, your lips meeting his in a heated, sloppy kiss, one that he takes control of as the two of you begin to shed your clothes. Feyd watches, his cock growing stiff, palming at it over the fabric of his training leathers, watching Paul lean in to nip at your throat, down your shoulders, all the way to your breasts. He bites at the skin softly before taking a nipple into his mouth, laving over it with his tongue, using his hand to squeeze at the other, kneading your soft flesh in his hands. He moves his mouth down to just below your navel, leaving a trail of love bites in his wake.

You whine slightly, annoyed by this teasing, “Paul, just fucking do something, I need you!”

He looks up at you, a cocky grin painted on his handsome face, “We have an audience, sister. And I intend on giving our cousin, your future husband, a show.”

Feyd’s eyes widen, knowing that he has been found out. He pushes the door open ever so slightly, stepping into your room, watching the two of you, who seem completely unperturbed by his presence. Rather, you simply continue snapping at your brother.

“Oh quit talking so damned much and fucking put your stupid mouth on-”

You are effectively cut off by Paul licking a long stripe along your slit, making you let out a soft moan of his name. He grins up at you.

“I was only doing as you asked, sweet sister.”

He buries his face inside you, tossing your legs over his shoulders as he laps at your slick folds like a man starved. He lets his teeth brush against the sensitive nub of your pearl, the cold of them making you wince and cringe away from him ever slightly, but Paul has no intention of allowing you to do so.

“Oh, no, you’re not getting away from me.”

Paul moves his hands to grip your hips firmly, holding you in place so that you can’t squirm away from him for even a moment. The air is filled with the sounds of him, lapping at your cunt, her moans, and Feyd’s heavy breathing as he watches the entire display.

“Look at him while I make you spill yourself all over my lips. Look at him, darling.”

You laugh breathlessly at his demand and murmur, “As you wish.”

You turn to Feyd, seeing his eyes are transfixed on Paul’s tongue as it presses into you. Feyd’s lips part slightly when he notices that you are looking at him, and you smirk before letting out a low moan and closing your eyes when Paul brushes his teeth against you again. The sensation proves to be too much and before you knows it, her whole body feels as though a tidal wave has washed over you as your arousal spills onto Paul’s lips.

“You taste divine. Would you like to try, darling?”

You nod and sit up, pulling him into a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. Your moans are louder than necessary, both of you putting on a show for Feyd, who continues watching intently, grabbing the chair by your desk, spinning it around and sitting on it. He leans forward, those darkened teeth of his sinking into his lower lip as he watches the two of you.

“Are you ready for me to fill you up?” Paul asks between kisses.

“Yes,” you let out a wanton moan, your fingers tangling in Paul’s dark curls, “Fuck me, Paul.”

He gives his cock a quick stroke and pushes into you, groaning at the feeling of your warm, wet walls squeezing around him. The noise you let out is downright obscene, and Feyd watches in fascination as Paul sheathes himself inside you.

“Still so tight for me,” Paul grins, “After all this time of taking my fat cock in that tiny little cunt.”

“Paul,” you hiss angrily, annoyed at his teasing, “Fucking move!”

He pulls out of you completely before quickly pushing back in once more, almost brutishly, making you let out a quiet yelp, “Not so bossy now, are we? Hm?”

Paul begins pounding into you, smirking at the sight of you, his fierce, fearsome twin lying abnormally pliant beneath him. This is the only time you ever even slightly submit to him, when the two of you are like this. He moves his hands to grab you by the hips, fucking you even deeper, letting his cockhead brush against that spot that has you seeing stars. You let out a near scream of his name.

“Oh, God, harder!”

He continues fucking into you without any mercy, his cock filling you to the brim, staring down at you with hard eyes, “Scream my fucking name, pretty girl.”

All that comes out are incoherent moans as he continues fucking you into the mattress. And just as he feels you clench around him, knowing you are about to reach your peak, he pulls out of you completely. You stare up at him in utter and complete shock.

“Paul, what the fuck-”

Before you can complete your sentence, he grips you by the hair and flips you onto your stomach, so that both of you face Feyd, who is completely hypnotized by the sight before him.

Paul begins to pound into you from behind, making you let out a loud cry of his name, “Paul, oh God, it’s too deep, please-”

“Do you need me to stop?” He questions calmly, knowing what the answer will be.

“No,” you snap at him, “Don’t you dare.”

He notices you trying to hide your face in the mattress to muffle the noises you’re making, but that simply cannot do. He growls and grips you even more harshly by the hair.

“Look at your future husband,” he demands, snapping his hips against yours, his balls heavy as they slap against your ass with each thrust, “Fucking look at him and tell him who’s doing this to you. Who’s ruining you. Don’t you dare come until you do.”

Feyd stares at you, seeing that your eyes are watering slightly from the sensation of Paul fucking you, the sight of which makes him even harder; you manage to eke out between your moans, “Paul is doing this to me. Please, Paul-”

You feel the sting of Paul’s hand come down on your ass, making you squeal and Feyd jump slightly, “I said tell him, louder!”

“Paul is doing this to me,” you all but wail as Paul picks up his pace, your hands grasping the sheets, “Paul, oh God, let me-”

“Come for me, my sweet girl. Come on now.”

Feyd watches as Paul moves his hand to rub circles over your clit, making you climax with a final scream of his name, his own end following soon after you. You slump down against the bed, taking a moment to catch your breath, smirking to yourself as you watch Paul beckon Feyd toward the two of you. Feyd rids himself of his clothes in record time, revealing his lean, toned body to you, his cock swaying as he walks toward you. He climbs into the bed, pulling you into his arms, his hand cupping your mound as his fingers slowly begin to tease you. Your eyes flutter shut and you pull him into a kiss, Paul’s hand caressing your breast, squeezing, pinching your nipple as you feel him begin to harden against your ass. You lean away slightly, watching with pleasure as Feyd and Paul share a kiss next, as if fighting each other for dominance, the sight arousing you. The fact that your brother and your husband-to-be are both such powerful men and yet you get to see them like this… It’s intoxicating.

Feyd moves back to kiss you again, smirking as you straddle him, Paul moving behind you. You sink down onto Feyd’s cock with a low moan, one that he echoes, his hands moving to hold your hips as you bounce up and down on his cock. He sits up, kissing your neck, squeezing the flesh of your ass, spreading it so that Paul can lick his fingers and push two inside you, preparing you to take his cock. All the while you continue riding Feyd, kissing him, letting him kiss Paul, the three of you a tangle of limbs. And when Paul’s cock fills you, both of them inside you at once, it’s almost like everything has fallen into place. They both fuck into you, looking at you as if you are the center of their world, their universe. As if you are their empress. As if you own them.

And perhaps you do.

The three of you are inseparable from that day on. It is like you and Paul have found the missing piece to the puzzle - and it is Feyd. And nothing changes after you and Feyd are wed. Sometimes Feyd dominates you, grabbing you by the throat, fucking you into submission, breeding you the way a Harkonnen breeds their wife. And sometimes he lets you and Paul dominate him, your mouth or cunt wrapped around his cock while Paul fucks him. And sometimes? He fucks Paul while his mouth laves attention on your sweet little pussy, grabbing you, tasting you, wanting nothing more than to be with you.

And when Irulan is wed to Paul, the boys aren’t the least bit surprised when they find you in Paul and Irulan’s bed on the wedding night, your face between her thighs as her fingers twist in your hair. Feyd fucks you and Paul fucks his new bride while you and your sister-in-law kiss. And all is well.

The arrangement between the four of you is only ever questioned once. It is when the question of who is to inherit Arrakis arises, and Feyd’s brother wishes for his children to be given the title. The hearing is on Giedi Prime, with nearly everyone of import in attendance. Your and Paul’s parents, the Baron, the Emperor, even the Reverend Mother. You stand there calmly, a hand resting on your stomach, growing with your and your husband’s third child while you have borne two of Paul’s, Feyd’s hand resting over yours as you speak your piece. Feyd declares that since he is far more worthy of being his uncle’s heir than Rabban, it should be your son that comes after him in the line of succession. His uncle watches all of this, the way holds you in his arms, doting on you, your brother and Irulan closeby, also supporting your claim.

“Her children are bastards!” Rabban bellows, pointing at you, his eyes darkened with rage.

“I could have your tongue for that,” Paul declares coldly, staring his brother-in-law down, hand moving toward his blade, readying to strike.

Irulan and you exchange a look, wondering when in the world this cock-measuring competition is going to come to an end, when Rabban yells again, “And their mother is a whore!”

It is Feyd who reacts, drawing his crysknife within mere seconds, his body moving with lethal precision as he strikes once, with enough strength to take Rabban’s head clean off his body, smirking down at his headless corpse, meeting your gaze, “He can keep his tongue.”

Your brother stifles a chuckle at your husband’s actions while Irulan merely sighs reproachfully. You, however? When he returns to your side, his face coated with blood, you pull him into a deep kiss, both of you moaning in a display of your affection for the known universe to see. Growing tired of this display, Irulan tugs you away and pulls you into a kiss of her own, her father and your own father’s eyes going wide at the sight, and finally? You smile up at Paul. He presses a kiss to your forehead and then your lips, cupping your face in his hands.

Never again was the arrangement questioned, for all the universe knew an attack on your honor would elicit swift and severe retribution from your husband, your brother, or your lover.

And they cared not to see which of them it would be.

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cassie48 · 1 month

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∙ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙

(Eventual)Dark!Paul Atreides x fem pregnant reader

• Pt 1 •

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

You and Paul grew up together on Caladan. You were born on the same day, on the same hour. Paul’s mother lady Jessica had always seen you as a daughter and for some unknown reason, insisted that you and her son always stay together.

When you and Paul grew to become teenagers, feelings became involved, and a powerful love blossomed. When the two of you heard you had to leave for Arrakis, you were both petrified. But you knew everything would be ok, as long as you stayed together.

When the two of you arrived to the planet, the local fremen called Paul the “Lisan al-Gaib” and you the “malaka”. Neither of you knew what that meant. So, walking hand in hand, you glanced at each other, both your faces full of confusion and curiosity.

When you were told that the names meant 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 and 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯, both of you were confused.

The night before the imperial Sardaukar troops invaded Arrakis, you found out you were pregnant. It was a complete shock and you and Paul were barely 20. You told Paul as soon as you found out. He comforted you, saying the baby was a blessing, and you two would get through it together.

When the troops came in, all hell broke lose. Thankfully you made it out with Paul, and met lady Jessica before running for the hills. Your hand went to your belly, complete fear consuming you. You three managed to get a plane and fly out.

After surviving a storm, and a long, dangerous journey, the three of you ended up in Fremen territory. You met Chani, who was sceptical of your boyfriend, but seemed to like you.

One man was not happy with your arrival and even challenged Jessica. Paul fought for her, killing the man, after a long brutal fight.

As soon as he had done it, he walked straight up to you, he looked full of power and confidence.

“It’s ok my love” he had told you as he hugged you close to him, his hand eventually resting on you belly. Jessica had told you she was pregnant as well, which eased up your nerves, knowing you two would get through it together.

After a good few weeks with the Fremen, Paul learned the ways of the Fremen being taught by stilgar , you tried to do what you could , which was little as you were now coming up to almost 4 months pregnant.

It all changed when Paul rode his first sand worm, you stood with the Fremen watching along with them as you saw Paul do nearly the impossible, smiling at him

All the Fremen beside you stared yelling out 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗹-𝗚𝗮𝗶𝗯, some walking up to you before kneeling, and taking your hand yelling out 𝗠𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗸𝗮, praising you

You were confused and scared, and just wanted your boyfriend to hold you. More and more people came up to you grabbing your hand, until suddenly you began to cry. You don’t really know why, but your emotions had been all over the place with your pregnancy.

As soon as Stilgar saw you crying he yelled out at the Fremen, asking them 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘩? 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘳𝘺!

Immediately they stopped, backing away with whispered apologies to you. When you told Paul later he was outraged.

“Do they think they can grab you like that? You are pregnant they could have hurt you or the baby!” He yelled out, pure rage in his voice.

“It’s ok Paul real-“ you started

“No. It’s not, you were crying, Chani told me. This has to stop” is all he said before pulling you into a hug, you resting your head on his shoulder, his head resting on your own.

Jessica had told you she thinks your baby’s is a boy, you believe her, as she is now the reverend mother. She had really changed, it scared you.

The Fremen and Paul continued fighting against the Sardauker troops, most were very successful. Sadly they blew up the temple, where many had been inside and where they prayed and laid their loved ones to rest.

Paul had been called down to speak with the leaders in the south of Arrakis, he took Stilgars place as he had been injured from the attack.

When you two arrived, Paul told you to go to sleep for a while, you were now seven months pregnant and your body was becoming tired more often.

After about two hours Jessica came up, yelling for you, saying Paul was in trouble. You jumped out of bed and waddled down to him as fast as you possibly could.

She told you he had drank worm blood, to gain an understanding of the prophecy and his future. She told you only your years would bring him back to life. Of course, you had already been crying, so it wasn’t so hard.

Paul gasped and sat up, coming back to reality, he glared seeing all the people surrounding them. He turned to look at you, smiling as he did, cupping your cheeks. You leant into his touch, throwing yourself into his embrace, letting many tear’s escape.

Stilgar yelled out “As it was written!” In pure shock.

“Paul why’d you do it!” You yelled, while crying into his shoulder.

“It’s ok. I understand now. This baby, it’s a miracle, 𝗛𝗲 shall rule after me” he said smiling while looking at you adoringly.

“What? I-I don’t understand! Rule?” You said still crying from the events.

“Trust me. You are the Malaka. You, are the most important woman on the planet right now. This pregnancy, it’s in the prophecy, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 were in the prophecy my love” he said properly sitting up.

“W-What?” You whispered still confused.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about any of this, you trust me don’t you” He said leaning in closer to you.

You nodded, leaning your body into his, your crying and worrying making you tired.

“Good.” Is all he said leaning into you and kissing you passionately, forgetting you two had a whole audience.

“Oh em well everybody give Lisan al-Gaib and the Malaka privacy” stilgar ordered as the Fremen left yelling out messiah words in their language.

You and Paul continued making out for around five minutes before he noticed how tired you were.

“Come my love” he said as he picked you up, holding you tightly in his arms. You leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, feeling completely safe in his embrace.

“No one will harm you, my love” he whispered as you drifted off to sleep.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

There will be a pt2!!

#paul atreides #dune part two #dune 2 #timothée chalamet #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x reader yandere #zendaya #chani kynes #austin butler #dune movie #2024 #fanfiction #florence pugh #prophecy #yandere #smut #timothee chalamet x reader

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plutoswritingplanet · 1 month

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough.

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her.

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love.

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill.

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them.

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end.

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son.

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die.

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed.

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers.

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded.

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow.

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour.

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to.

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice.

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him.

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament.

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods.

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room.

- Shall we, my Lady?

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat.

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features.

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade.

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed.

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it.

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug.

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade.

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses.

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you.

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking.

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies.

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man.

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike.

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way.

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps.

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting.

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls.

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head.

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo.

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts.

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me.

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him.

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle.

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art.

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards.

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh.

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #they try to silence me again on tumblr dot com but i won't let them

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ssahotchnerr · 4 months

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could we maybe get some momfriend!reader and jack dynamics, maybe from before her and Aaron were even together?

something special

<333 cw; fem!bau!reader, very tiny blood description (& yes i know you're supposed to wash a paper cut right away but for the sake of the setting and aaron being cute i didn't include that step 😭), mentions of haley, mutual pining

"whatcha drawing?" you asked mid-writing, your pen flying across your paper but still finding the opportunity to peek over.

"spiderman and superman." jack replied happily, switching from a red to a blue crayon. "see, they're teaming up to fight the bad guy because he keeps doin' crimes."

about an hour or so ago, jessica had dropped off jack at the bau. long story short; she was called into work urgently and with aaron in a meeting, you were quick to volunteer yourself to keep him company. rather than cramming into the small space of your desk, and jack potentially hearing conversations or details not fit for a six year old, you've made home in the roundtable room. you could work, jack could color.

you had also fired off a quick text to aaron; letting him know jack was with you, a brief synopsis of the situation and where he could find you both once his meeting concluded. it had, and he was about to join, but found himself pausing outside the door, listening to your easy, lighthearted conversation for just a moment.

when it came to you and jack, there was just something about it. something extraordinarily special.

"i see," you nodded along to jack's words, an encouraging smile on your face. "that's really good. since when did you become an artist?"

"since always." jack grinned proudly.

"then you have to promise you'll make me a drawing soon. my desk is pretty boring, i need something to brighten it up." you held out your pinky, eyebrows raised. "promise?"

"i promise." jack linked his pinky with yours, and turned back to his masterpiece with renewed vigor.

a sense of warmth filled aaron's chest, the ends of his lips turning upwards into a faint smile at the natural bond you and jack had developed so quickly, over the course of a few weeks. deciding it was as good a time as ever to join, aaron reached out to fully open the door when a wince-gasp came from jack, stopping him.

"oh no," your head turned. "paper cut?"

jack nodded meekly, grimacing as his gaze shifted to you. his big, sweet eyes were tearful, "it stings."

"can i see?" he offered his hand limply, hanging downwards at the wrist. you cradled his small hand in yours; it was just a tiny cut - no more than a few centimeters, a faint line of red gradually seeping to the surface.

"hm, well," you huffed a breath, turning his hand face-up face-down - vaguely exaggerating the examination. you got up to retrieve the first-aid kit stationed in the room, aaron sidestepping a bit to keep out of potential view. "i think luck was on your side today, i don't think we'll have to amputate this time." you spoke with an airy tone, quick to bring light to the situation. it worked, jack stifling a laugh as you retook your seat. "nothing a bandaid can't fix."

there was the click of kit opening, a slight shuffle of what sounded like paper.

"and don't tell anyone i told you this," you applied a bit of ointment onto the bandaid before wrapping it onto his finger - not too tight or too loose, all to avoid cutting off circulation and to let the wound breathe. "we gotta keep extra band aids around because your dad always seems to get one himself."

"dad gets paper cuts? really?" jack's eyes widened in surprise.

just as his son, a breathless chuckle exited aaron; that wasn't necessarily true, but your intentions were clear: cheering jack up.

in addition, the last time he had heard someone talking to or interacting with jack like this - empathetically, attentively, motherly, was, well... haley.

it touched the usually unattended part of his heart that had been vastly empty since the divorce. since that one, horrible day. while the emptiness still lingered, you had made a pull at it. for a moment, you had healed it, even.

again, there was just something special about you. and again, the only way aaron could describe it was extraordinary.

"really." you nodded convincingly, tossing the little plastic scraps into the nearby trash bin, giving top of jack's hand a consoling pat. "it happens all the time."

aaron mentally rolled his eyes at that, a smile itching at his lips.

jack picked up his brown crayon, pain forgotten, eager to get back to his drawing. "i'm gonna draw daddy and put a bandaid on him. he's a superhero too, y'know?"

"yeah," your smile was rather bashful, your tone of voice so admirable it caused a blush to rise in aaron's cheek. "i know."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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ddejavvu · 7 months

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I don't know if you're taking requests right now so if you aren't just ignore this, BUT if you are...

Imagine Hotch getting a call from babysitter reader where Jack is in the ER cause he sprained his ankle and, obviously Aaron is a little upset and worried. But when he gets to the ER he sees that reader is an absolute wreck of tears and snot and she rambling on and on about how sorry she is and how she never meant to let Jack get hurt. And Aaron's looking at her like 'omg she's so adorable when she's a mess'. So he calms her down and they go to Jack and Aaron sees that Jack isn't even crying he's just sitting in the bed with a lollipop and a wrap on his ankle. And now Hotch is trying not to laugh at reader for so ridiculously overreacting.

And you can finish it. I know it's a long ask but it's been in my head for a while and it would be such a pleasure and honor for you to make the drabble come true. 😘 love YOU and all your work!!!!!

Aaron's been repeating the phrase sprained ankle in his head over and over since he'd gotten the call from the hospital, but now he's wondering if Jack has since been crushed by some wayward hospital machinery when he spots you hunched over in the waiting room, sobbing into your hands. Your shoulders are shaking and Aaron gravitates towards you rather than the door behind you, letting his shoes click audibly against the linoleum flooring to alert you of his presence.

"Y/N," He calls, and your head shoots out of your hands, your legs trembling as you stand to greet him. You're a wreck, eyes puffy and red and nose dripping obscenely despite the tissues in your hands.

"Mr. Hotchner, I'm so sorry," You gush, and he doesn't hesitate to take you into his arms, voice soothing as he shushes you, "I- I swear I was watching him, but he wanted- he wanted me to wait at the other end of the slide, so when he fell I wasn't close enough to catch him, and he- he- I'm so sorry!"

"I know," He hums, "It's alright. It's not your fault, he's a kid. He gets scrapes and bruises all the time. Where is he?"

"In there," You gladly accept his embrace, even if you don't particularly feel deserving of it, and you jerk your thumb towards the door behind you, "I'm not family, so they won't let me in. They need you to sign paperwork."

Aaron's mouth twists down in a displeased frown, and he makes a mental note to ensure you're on file as one of Jack's emergency contact. Jessica is the only person besides himself that he's added, but in case of any future incidents, he wants you to be able to stay with Jack.

"Come with me," He only withdraws one arm from around your shoulders, keeping the other draped across your shivering frame to keep you steady, "Let's go see him, honey. It's okay, I'm not upset with you, okay? It's not your fault."

"But- but I should have-" You press, but Aaron cuts off your babbling before you can whip yourself up into another tearful frenzy.

"Did you push him?"

You rear back, aghast, "No!" and Aaron has to bite his tongue to stop himself from smiling at the indignation in your eyes. For you to love his son so fiercely as to be offended by such a notion only reinforces his confidence in you as a caretaker.

"Well then, it's not your fault. He almost got a concussion on my watch, you know."

You swallow a sob, composing yourself as he walks through the doorway, pointedly dragging you along with him despite the nurse's suspicious look.

"Really?" You ask, and Aaron nods.

"I was making dinner, and I called him in from the living room. But I'd left my computer charging on the desk, and the cord was on the carpet, and he tripped over it and smacked his head against the wood floor."

You wince at the story, and Aaron internally does the same, remembering the sickening crack of his son's head against the flooring, "It was scary. And that was my fault, I left the cord out."

"But you didn't mean for him to trip over it," You muse, letting Aaron guide you through the hallway towards the room that the nurse had directed him to over the phone, "It wasn't your fault."

"And neither was this," Aaron concludes, stopping in front of door 208, "Ready?"

Your shoulders sag at his artful storytelling skills, and you nod, wiping your hands once more over your eyes. It doesn't do much for your runny nose, and Aaron takes his pocket square from his suit, holding the back of your neck and persisting even when you try to squirm away.

"Aaron- no!" You protest, trying to dodge his grip to no avail. Your words are muffled as he smears the fabric under your nose, "You'll ruin the material!"

"Jack gets macaroni and cheese fingerprints on my suits all the time," Aaron grumbles, his grip firm and tight on the back of your neck, "It's nothing my dry cleaners can't fix."

When he's satisfied that you're as cleaned up as you can manage, he tucks the square back into his pocket, unphased by the grimace you shoot him. The echo of his hand on the back of your neck is still present as he knocks on the door, and he's pleasantly surprised when Jack himself opens the door, his ankle wrapped with a bandage.

"Hi, Daddy!" He grins at Aaron, lips stained red with the remnants of a cherry sucker, "Hi Y/N! You look sad."

"I am sad," You supply feebly, eyeing his ankle warily, "Are you okay, buddy?"

"Mhm!" Jack nods, letting his dad push the door open and guide you inside the room, "The doctor says I can still walk on it, I just hav'ta rest a lot."

The doctor, perched on a stool inside the room, nods with a fond smile at Jack, "That's right. He needs to walk on it for it to recover, but he shouldn't overextend himself. thirty minutes to an hour of exercise each day should do the trick."

"Thank you, doctor." Aaron nods, "Is he free to go?"

"Yes, if you'll just sign these." The doctor pushes forth a modest stack of paperwork, maybe ten pages that Aaron hopes are mainly spots for signatures, "I need to attend to my next patient, so I'll send my nurse in to collect those in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Aaron nods, and you bid the doctor the same thanks as he takes his leave, lingering by the doorway until Jack takes your hand.

"The doctor said to give you this," Jack digs into the pocket of his plaid shorts, pulling out a green lollipop, "He said he saw you crying in the waiting room. Were you crying in the waiting room?"

"I was," You try to smile, but Aaron can tell with only a quick glance at you that you're fighting back tears again, "I was worried about you, Jack. It's okay, you can have the lollipop."

"No, it's for you." Jack insists, and Aaron watches your trembling lips pull into a smile as Jack pushes you over to a chair against the wall, herding you into the seat. You let him direct you into the middle seat, but he bypasses the seats on either side of you to climb right into your lap.

"Here," His tiny fingers pry at the plastic wrapping of the sucker, "I can open it for you."

Aaron doesn't have to look up again from the paperwork he's signing to know there's fondness written all over your face, he can hear it in your shaky, 'Thanks, buddy'. He knows it's there because he can feel the same thing in his own chest, and he doesn't bother trying to keep it off of his face as it flowers equally abundant for both you and his son.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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kpopnstarwars · 16 days

Text

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

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

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

wc: 4.2k

part 1

Giedi Prime is a miserable planet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Apart from you - hopefully.

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

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

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

The cold kiss of metal meets your neck.

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

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

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

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

‘For me?’ You muse. ‘We’ll see.’

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

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

You can’t get enough of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Fuck me,’ you mumble against his lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘How are you, my little witch?’

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

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

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

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

‘Give me your knife,’ you hiss.

He sits up halfway. ‘What’s - ’

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

‘Feyd. Give me your knife.’

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

They’re holding a knife.

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

‘Stand down,’ you snap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘...Yes.’

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

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

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

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

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

He catches up to you easily enough.

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

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

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

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

‘You evade my question.’

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

‘What do you - ’

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

He’s silent.

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

His eyes bore into yours. ‘I cannot.’

‘Exactly.’

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

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

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

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

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

You think this might be love.

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

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

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

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

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strawberriescherrieskiwi · 20 days

Text

Claiming

Requests:

Based on the HC

Wordcount: 3.7K+

Masterlist

Description: A Wedding of a Harkonnen Warrior and Atreides was written in the stars.... but no one saw that Paul would become Emperor and Feyd would be the last standing Harkonnen. The only thing to bind these two great houses is a wife that needs to be claimed.

A/N: This took so fucking long. Oh my god, I am sorry it took way too long. This was more difficult than I thought it would be, but still had fun writing these two crazy guys and their wife.

Warning: Dark Feyd. Dark Paul Blood lots of blood, crying, pain, dacryphilia, possessive Paul & Feyd dagger kink. Smut, breeding kink, dubcon, claming. Throple, passing out.

“You look beautiful. No bride has ever looked as breathtaking as you,” Margot said as she placed the chained veil over your face. She smiled warmly at you, or as warmly as she knew how to.

There was no warmth being a Bene Gesserit. Something that you were more than happy with. There was a time when you were younger when you fantasized about this scenario. Getting married and having a family, a home that wasn’t dark, cold, and in the shadows. The Reverend Mother made sure you stopped fantasizing. She let you know your only use was your womb and the child you would have. And you were okay with it. You had to be okay with it.

“You should be grateful. It is an honor to be chosen by the most powerful men in the universe,” Barked the voice of the women that put you in this position. Lady Jessica, the new Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother.

She was the reason your fate had changed. “The only person that should be grateful is you, Reverend Mother,” you said with hatred. “If not for me, who would fix the mistake you made. Falling in love and giving the duke a son.”

You were getting dressed for your wedding because she was stupid enough to fall in love. She ruined the plan and now you were to be punished for it. She glared at you and made her way over to you and grabbed the back of your neck.

“You will do well to mind your tongue, lest you want Feyd to cut it out.”

Her threat did the trick, you shut your mouth. You often got into trouble as a child never being about to keep your opinion and comments to yourself. The times you were left in a dark room or whipped into submission should have cured you, but it cursed you. It was why you were picked by the Heads of House Atreides and Harkonnen.

“I like your fire, I can’t wait to snuff it out,” Feyd said after you spit in his face when he grabbed your backside.

You scoffed and tried to pull away when you backed into someone else. Looking up, you saw the new emperor, Paul Atreides.

“Hello, little witch,” Paul chuckled placing his hands on your waist. “What do you think, cousin?” He asked Feyd but his eyes never left your face. His gaze bored into your eyes, glowing at the defiance he saw within yours. A smirk danced on his lips, and he leaned closer to you. You turned your head to look away from them both.

“I think she is an excellent choice. Beautiful, lively, and amusing,” Feyd chuckled, his lips biting harshly at your neck. He broke the skin and you gasped struggling to get away from them, but their grips were iron and you were stuck.

“I am a person,” you said. “If we must produce, we can be civil about it.”

Paul laughed this time and grabbed your throat pulling your head back until you were locked in his gaze once more. “We plan to more than produce with you. Has your coven not told you what we want of you?”

You tried to keep the confusion off your face, but their laughter told you that you failed. Grinding your teeth, you closed your eyes. A slap to your face had you gasping and opening your eyes. Feyd shoved his tongue done your throat and Paul took his place biting your neck.

You groaned and bit Feyd, but he only moaned and forced the mix of your blood and his down your throat. Moving in sync, Feyd moved to tear your clothes off and Paul’s mouth was on yours.

“Bite me,” he ordered.

You did as the order wished over you and his blood filled your mouth. You whimpered slightly but neither of them cared as they marked. A knock on the door had them pulling away and a Bene Gesserit walked in. You were too lightheaded to know which one.

“Have you made your choice, My lords?”

You learned that they didn’t just want a child. No, to bind House Atreides and House Harkonnen, they needed something to keep the houses united or more like someone. Your glorious purpose, the reason for your birth was to fix the mistake of Lady Jessica having Paul.

“Can’t they just marry each other,” you complained to Margot. She snorted and ducked her head when the other shot us both dark looks. I shrugged; it was a valid question with the amount of sexual tension those two had every time they were together.

“Brides should be seen not heard,” Jessica snapped, cupping her growing belly. You nodded with a tight smile and stood up in your green and black dress that honored both of their houses. You walked to the mirror to see yourself, but you didn’t care.

The hall appeared empty as the double doors opened and you walked in, but you knew that there were eyes in the shadows. A heated glare from the front room had you smirking slightly. The former princess hated you for being in the place she wished to be. You would happily give her your place, but you disliked her so you would pretend to be happy to spite her.

You stood in front of the Reverend Mother with your black turn as you waited for your husband to enter the sacred hall. The doors opened and they both entered but you still kept your gaze followed. You hated how you knew which steps belonged to her. Paul’s steps were light and purposefully with all the confidence, but Feyd strutted with heavy steps like a tiger waiting to pounce.

“Finally, the Great Houses will be united and with this union, our Kwisatz Haderach will be unstoppable. No other house will try to rise against you both. And the children produced will rule the known universe forever,” The Reverend Mother said.

The crowd was buzzing with excitement as you were led out into the Arena. You would laugh at their arrogance if you weren’t in the position you were in. They flew all the way to House Harkonnen and invited people from all over the universe for your claiming. You thought you had gotten lucky when your wedding night came without you being torn apart by them, but it seemed they were binding their time. Playing some sick game of foreplay to keep you on edge.

You were dragged to the center of the arena and told to kneel in the sand. “Bite me, bitch,” you mumbled to the Harkonnen warrior that forced you down. He ignored you and took the cloak off your shoulder. The crowd's cheers grew as they saw your mesh chain dress that left you completely exposed to their hungry gaze.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands. You would just pretend you were anywhere else but here. You ignored the slight tremble of excitement that crawled up your spine. If things were done differently, if you had a different life maybe you would fantasize about being taken so primally. The vulgar cheers from the crowd made it hard to find any enjoyment.

Chants of Paul’s name let you know he had entered the arena. You looked up to see him stalking towards you with all the finesse of a panther. His clothes let everyone know that he was the emperor and in charge. He smirked at you, and you rolled your eyes and looked away from him.

“Hello, my pet,” he said when he stood behind you, placing his hand on the back of your head. You bristled at his touch but made no other acknowledgment of his presence.

Feyd entered with cheers, and you couldn’t help but look his way. He was only in black leather pants that rode low on his waist. He, of course, was putting on a show for the crowd. Waving his arms around and egging them to cheer more.

He grinned widely and turned his gaze to you. He kept your gaze locked as he pulled his dagger out and pointed it at you suggestively.

“Maybe, if you are good for us, Feyd will fuck you with that handle. Won’t you like that?” Paul whispered in your ear. You shivered and looked back down at the sand. Your breathing picked up and you couldn’t tell if it was fear or lust.

Feyd took long strides to get to you both and toss you into the sand on your back. Your eyes widened as you stared up at your husbands as they leered down at you with lust-filled eyes. Feyd licked his lips and Paul reached down to grab you.

You gasped scrambling away from them. Your heart was beating fast and every vein in your body to run. To get as far away as you could from them and to hide, but it would be pointless. It would probably even turn them on. Looking at them they both stared down at you in amusement. They wanted you to run and you didn’t want to play into their hands.

“What are you going to do, little fox?” Feyd chuckled.

And with that, you decided to run. Scrambling to your feet you took off in the opposite direction of them as fast as you could. They both laughed loudly, and the crowd followed suit. They were mocking you, but you couldn’t focus on that right now.

“How about a wager, Emperor?” Feyd said. “The first one to catch her gets to have her first?”

Paul grinned and pulled out his own dagger. “You’re on.”

You cursed and ran towards the door. You knew it would be locked but it was the only place you could go. You wanted to bang on the door until it opened. Maybe one of your Bene sisters would take pity on you.

Paul took off running, but Feyd was quick to tackle him into the sand. Paul glared up at him and pressed his dagger to his throat. The crowd stilled and you froze to stare back at them. Feyd grinned down at Paul pressing himself into Paul’s dagger.

“What are you doing?”

“This is a claiming, isn’t it? We are bonded as we are to her, are we not?” Feyd grinned wickedly, his voice echoing around the dome.

“You fucking wish you could claim me,” Paul growled knocking Feyd off of him and straddling his waist. “I will slit your throat.”

“Will you? My Emperor,” Feyd teased.

Paul dug his dagger in Feyd’s neck and Feyd chuckled as the blood dipped down the knife. Paul narrowed his eyes pulled his knife back and licked the blood off. “I will deal with you later, Feyd Rautha,” He stood up.

Feyd loved getting under Paul’s skin and striking out at him, grabbing his ankle, and sending him to the ground. With a hand on Paul’s neck, his gaze lifted to you and your breath caught at the unadulterated stare.

“I’m going to catch her and fuck her into the sand and then you are next.” He spoke to Paul, but his gaze never left yours. You tore your gaze away and ran again trying to put as much distance between you and them. You cursed yourself for getting distracted by them.

Paul drove his dagger into Feyd's side. “I’ll catch her and then teach you a lesson on respect.” And then he was up and running after you. Your eyes widened. The last thing you wanted was for your husbands to kill each other. The marriage was supposed to stop the fighting between the two houses.

Feyd chuckled digging his fingers into his wounded side and smearing the blood on his face and took off after Paul. You ran left but Paul stood with a smirk on your face and when you turned to the right, Feyd stood there.

“Whose it’s going to be, little witch?” Feyd laughed.

You flipped him off and backed yourself into a corner as they both boxed you in. You glared at them both. Paul was the lesser of two evils but with how railed up he was you were unsure. “My husbands, shall we take a break, yes?”

Paul laughed and lunged at you, but Feyd lunged at Paul causing them both to tumble to the ground. They struggled for control, shoving each other and biting and tearing at each other clothes. Feyd pinned Paul with his legs and chuckled as he wrapped his hand around his throat.

“Yield, Emperor.”

“Paul dug his fingers into Feyd's side. Feyd moaned and Paul flipped him over. “Do you like moaning for your Emperor?” He asked his nose brushing against Feyd.

You thought now was the perfect time to sneak passed them and add distance but the moment you took a step both of them snapped their gaze to you. You gasped and backed up against the wall once more. You squeezed your thighs together and looked away from them.

Paul leaned closer to Feyd and whispered something that you were unable to hear because of the pounding of your heart. You risk it and go to run past him but in sync. Feyd grabs you around the waist and Paul grabs your shoulder. You fought against them, kicking and screaming, but they ignored you as they pulled you into the center of the arena.

“You’ve been caught, little fox. It is time we put out your little fire,” Feyd said, shoving you completely into Paul’s hold as he began to take off your dress. You continue to glare and fight them until Paul twists your arm behind your back and roughly cups one of your breasts. A moan slips out despite yourself and Feyd laughed.

“Do you like it rough, little fox? We can be rough if that is what you want, Can’t we Paul?”

Paul laughed and twisted your nipple and bit your jaw. “We can be as rough as you want, Pet.”

“Fuck you, both,” you winced as they shoved you to the ground on your hands and knees. You try to turn around to face them, but your head is shoved into the sand. A tight grip on your neck warned you to stay down so you kept your face buried in the sand.

You feel humiliated. You hated your husbands and you hated yourself for being so turned on. Their presence was overwhelming, and you closed your eyes trying to dissociate with everything. Trying to ignore the crowd of people watching you.

A hand came down hard on your ass causing you to cry out. They both chuckled and the hand came again and again, until you were sobbing into the sand. Your knees shook and you were afraid you would collapse, and you could feel slick run down your thighs.

“Look how wet our little wife is,” Paul said teasingly pushing two of his long fingers inside cunt. You gasped. You’ve been curious before about your body. You knew about pleasure, heard about it from the other girls, even been touched by them, but never had anything been inside of you.

“Such a greedy little thing she is,” Feyd agreed. “Look at how she is taking your fingers,” He moved around until he was in front of you. Grabbing your hair, he pulled your head and forced you to look at him. “So pretty when you cry for us.”

You wanted to spit a curse at him, but Paul curved his fingers and your mouth opened and you moaned loudly. Feyd’s eyes darkened at your noise, and he tugged your hair harshly. With his free hand, he pulled his cock out stroking himself as he watched Paul add another finger and your moans grew louder.

He was at a crossroads. He wanted to choke you on his cock but the sounds you were making were too good to lose. Feyd looked from you to the curly-haired Emperor a smirked split his face as an idea formed. “My Emperor, don’t you think her noises are just too good to muffle?” He asked, slapping your breasts to prove his point when you gasped.

Paul was transfixed with your tight little cunt. You were so greedily sucking him in, stretching so well for him. The perfectly little pet for him and his cousin. He didn’t look up at Feyd’s words, but he nodded in agreement. “It would be a shame to lose such pretty sounds.

“Then we are in agreement,” Feyd said, dropping your head and moving to grip Paul’s curls and pulling his hand back.

“What the are you-” Paul’s words were cut off as Feyd’s cock was forced between his lips. Paul glared up at Feyd and tried to move his hand, but Feyd’s grip didn’t let up as he shoved his cock down Paul’s throat. Feyd groaned as Paul’s throat constricted around him.

Paul’s anger turned on you, as he shoved you onto the ground and shoved his fist into your cunt. You screamed in a mix of pain and pleasure, your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you came around his fist. Paul didn’t stop, he fucked you as hard as Feyd fucked his throat. The crowd watched transfixed the way you all moaned and lost yourself.

Feyd gripped Paul’s chin pulling his cock out slowly. Looking at the fucked out looked on the emperor’s face. Saliva dropped down Paul’s face and Feyd chuckled darkly. “As much as I would like to spill myself down your throat. I think our wife should get my seed first.”

Paul stood up and shoved Feyd away from him. He grabbed your upper arm and pulled you to your feet. “Undress me, pet,” he ordered. You whined you were still reeling from your orgasm but made quick work of his cock. His cock was hard, and you licked your lips staring at him. A moment that didn’t go unnoticed by your husbands.

“You will get a taste, but my cock will fuck you open first,” Paul said, gripping your waist and hoisting you into his arms. You gasped and wrapped your arms around his shoulder. Feyd pressed himself against your back, boxing you between the two of them. Feyd gripped one side of your hip and Paul grabbed his cock guiding it to your cunt and forcing his way into you in one thrust. You gasped and you released a long drawn-out moan.

“Fuck, little pet. You are so fucking tight,” Paul groaned.

“And she’s about to be tighter,” Feyd said.

His words registered a second later when you felt his cock rubbing against your clit and pressing against your already stuffed hole. “Wait, Wait. No. You can’t,” you gasped struggling against the two of them.

“Enough,” Paul said, biting your neck. You ignored him as Feyd’s pushed his cock into your cunt. You felt as if you were being torn apart. You dug your nails into Paul’s shoulder and his teeth dug into your neck more.

Feyd growled when you refused to open up for him. “Fuck, let me in,” He ordered, grabbing both your hips and forcing you down on his cock. Your mouth flew open, but no sound came out. Your vision blurred and you fainted from the pain.

“Looks like our little witch couldn’t handle us,” Paul chuckled, pressing your hair out of your face.

Feyd scoffed, grabbing your head and tugging it roughly until your eyes blinked. “You need to be awake for your claiming, little fox,” Feyd said, slapping your face.

“Too full,” you said through clenched teeth. You hated that the pain was fading, and you were starting to enjoy the feeling of your husbands fucking into you. You bit your lower lip and dug your nails into Paul’s shoulders.

“Don’t be stubborn, pet,” Paul said. He and Feyd work in sync as they fucked you. One thrust into you and the only pulled out so you were never empty.

“Don’t fight it. You love us using you. Go ahead and moan for us,” Feyd said. He grabbed your breasts and twisted your nipples. You cursed and moaned out. The noise rang throughout the arena but you didn’t care anymore.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Please, feels so good,” you begged, feeling tears running down your face. Paul laughed, grabbed the back of your neck, and pulled you in for a bruising kiss. He devoured your mouth, shoving his tongue down your throat. Moaning, you bit his tongue. Paul chuckled pulling back from the kiss. Feyd was instantly kissing you, biting your tongue, and exploring your mouth. Your eyes rolled back and you squeezed around their cocks as you moaned into Feyd’s mouth and came, soaking both their cocks.

“Fuck, squeeze our cocks, little witch,” Feyd groaned forcing himself faster and harder inside of you. Paul moaned and pulled you closer to his body. Feyd shoved himself closer to you both, causing you all to fall on the floor. But they didn’t stop, Paul slapped your ass, and you rode his cock as Feyd drilled into you from behind.

“Do you love how my cock feels against yours inside of our wife?” Paul taunted Feyd.

Feyd growled and leaned over you and bit Paul’s lip. Your chest pressed against Paul’s and Fedy pressed into your back. You bit Paul’s chest and he threw his head back moaning as he came. Feyd laughed, pulling out of you, giving his cock a few pumps, and cumming on both your spend bodies.

Paul pulls out of you and shoves you into the sand. You moved into your elbows, but he shoved you back down. “We are not done with you yet, wife. We will claim you until the sun goes down and then we will take you to our chambers where you’ll stay until you are carrying an heir.”

Feyd spread your legs and slapped your ruined cunt. “Look at you, gaping from our cock. Are you ready for another round?” He asked, slapping your cunt again.

You whined but glared at both of them as they stared down at you. “Well, get on with it then,” you said, though you were more than happy to be claimed by them again and again and again.

Taglist.

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@robertpattins0nswh0re

@valencia-rou

@groovyqueer

@tchalamss

@daydreaming-peach

@wandasforyou

@creamsweets

@moon-poe

@rougegenshin

Feyd Taglist

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@mystifiedfan

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@waywardkryptonitenightmare

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eratosmusings · 29 days

Text

Stolen Destiny (I)

Feyd Rautha x fem!reader

summary: Your father had been promised an heir. But the choices made by another stole that fate from you. Now it's your turn to take theirs.

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, blood, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence

word count: 1.2k

dividers / masterlist

“Again,” the swordmaster calls out.

Gritting your teeth, you comply and fall back in position with the others. All this show for what?

With a nod, a troubadour began to pluck at the strings of her Baliset again. Your feet move in the familiar pattern, hilts of the swords bouncing against your hips. This is a waste of time.

Air stills as the rest of the women swirl away from you when another Baliset, one played with a bow sliding against its strings, joins the melody. The blades gnash against their sheaths in protest as you pull them free. They sing in the air, spinning easily between your fingers. Faster and faster they spin to match the skirts of the others now twirling in a circle around you until the music slows.

Once, twice you clink the blades’ together before you stab one into the plush stool in the center. Soft, slow pattering of the drums begins as you turn your back to it. The sword that remains drags its tip against the stone floor. The women bend a knee where they twirled. Sparks follow when you twist quickly.

This is the silliest part. You face a non existent opponent. Bringing your sword forward you drop into a defensive stance. The music rises and now you fight. Thrust, retreat, parrie, circle, advance, lunge, parrie, retreat, parrie, parrie. On and on it goes until you drop the sword. Your arm extends to the partner who does not exist and spin into nothing as the music reaches a crescendo. Chest heaving, you stay there and stare into the abyss until the music and the last of your dignity finally dies.

One of the girls is quick to retrieve and return the swords to you. In contrast, you’re slow to sheath them. You’re not eager to hear the word you know waits on his tongue. But you can only stall for so long.

You turn and face him. His voice cuts sharply across the silent hall. “Again.”

“You look ridiculous,” your father says under his breath so only you can hear.

A gown, styled after your mother’s House, hung loosely on your frame, hiding any hint of the woman’s body beneath it. You feel ridiculous in it, but had thought it better than the other options. You should have known there was nothing you could have worn that would please him.

“My apologies, father.”

He scoffs. Nothing you do will ever please him.

It’s why you still cannot understand why this celebration is being held. He saw no honor in you being born, why would he see it in you coming of age? And to invite the likes of the Atreides? Was this all some masochistic need to see the son he should have had?

He says outloud, “Don’t embarrass me.” In your head you hear the word he leaves unspoken. ‘Again.’

The Major Houses arrive hours apart, the lucky few Minor Houses invited padding the time between. First is the Princess Irulan. Beautiful, graceful, kind. She compliments you, embracing you as if you’d been friends for life. And it feels as such. A connection left despite the broken destiny. There would be no marriage, but your father whispers that a friendship could offer nearly as much.

The Atreides come next. The Duke is handsome. His concubine, Lady Jessica, hides behind a veil. A Bene Gesserit indeed. Their son, Paul, is charismatic and not as handsome as his father, but more beautiful. He places a kiss on your hand, complimenting your dress and, as he calls them, your lovely eyes. They fall flat on you, but he seems to preen at your own compliment of his hair with a boyish grin painting his face.

Your father’s mood shifts when they and their people are led away to the castle. “Well done. Who knew you could charm so well.” The praise, as backhanded as it is, prickles your skin. “Let’s hope can you keep it up.”

At last, as the sun sets, the Harkonnens arrive.

Pale and hairless, they're intimidating in their black attire. The Baron did not come, instead having his nephews take his place. The eldest, Count Glossu Rabban, is a giant of a man. From the stories you’ve heard, he's a sadist but an idiot. In his shadow lies the true danger.

Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. He’s deceptively slight next to his brother. But to be the chosen heir for a House like the Harkonnens there must be a brutal intelligence. Like Paul he takes your offered hand and presses his lips against it. They’re cold, chapped and rough. Unlike Paul he offers a grin that had no boyishness left. Blackened teeth bared, he tugs your arm harshly. You stumble forward into him. The hand he doesn’t hold presses against his chest to catch yourself, the one he does hold twisting out of his grip.

Warm metal presses against your throat.

Something akin to amusement dances in his eyes as they rove over your. It’s the only sign that he probably doesn’t want to kill you. There’s a measured pause of his gaze, first on the blade then sinking lower, before it flits back to your own. His voice is raspy as he speaks, “It is a pleasure to be here for your coming of age, my lady.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. The blade retreats. His eyes don’t leave yours as he releases you, flips it, and offers you the hilt. “A gift.”

“Thank you,” you say, hoping your voice holds firm, and reach for the dagger.

A hand flashes from behind you with a plea of, “Allow me, my lady,” from a guard.

Feyd, tisked, pulling it out of reach. “It is not a gift for you.”

You’re unceremoniously knocked aside when the guard steps between you. “She will be given it after an inspection.”

“An inspection is unnecessary,” you hiss, face warming. It was embarrassing enough he’d managed to catch you and your court so off guard. But to openly suspect him of intending harm, after such a brazen display of weakness, would cement the failure of any good relations between your houses. Your father would never forgive you.

“He poisons his blades,” the guard insists, not quietly enough.

Feyd-Rautha’s laugh is harsh. He turns to the Harkonnens behind him, lifts his arms, and bellows, “He worries I poison the blade!” It humors them. Rabben guffaws as if he’s never heard a funnier joke. When he faces you again his black grin is even wider. He stares down the guard as he slices the blade across his open palm. Blood soils the blade and drips on the stone beneath him. His eyes shift to you again. His tongue juts out. In a grotesque exhibition he licks it. “Death does not wait for you in my hands today.”

“I never suspected it did, Na-Baron,” you agree, stepping around the guard. He moves to stop you, but a harsh glare has him backing down. There’s still a chance to save this. Appease the Harkonnens and quell your father’s resentment you can feel rolling off him in waves behind you. Feyd offers the hilt again and you take it. The blade slices across your own palm without hesitation, your blood joining his on the stone. You extend your hand to him again.

a/n: my first fic! any thoughts would be appreciated 🥰

be my muse

next chapter

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x you #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd rautha x you #stolen destiny

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trashycvntt · 1 month

Text

The Fates Will Find a Way { Ⅰ }

Synopsis: When a certain Atreides heir takes a dislike in one of his mother's Bene Gesserit apprentices.

Wc: 7.4k

a/n: THIS IS THE FULL VER. OF "The Fates Will Find a Way"

{the first paragraphs would be the same as the teaser but after that it's gon be a looong long chapter}

Yk I would always imagine reader wearing padme's typa outfits from star wars, she's js to gorgous idc what anyone says, but if u have a diff type of clothing you want to wear you can js ignore the links throughout the story {they're not that many anyways}. AND I got inspiration for some of the lines from the book since the movie doesn't really show much of the inner dialogue and details so I read it in the internet and got what I needed, and I am so shocked how different the book and movie was, I mean the movie is really really good, but some details and conversations in the book made me amazed.

Jessica had always warned you not to speak to her son, despite being the same age as him, she didn't want anyone from Bene Gesserit to interact with him, which is strange because she is a bene gesserit or is that just stupid coming from you. You never thought the duke's son would be this magnificent in the eyes, you can just stare at him the whole day and won't get tired of his gloriously exquisite structured face.

You would sneak glances every time he passes by you or when he would talk to his mother and you're just right behind her, of course you're careful not to get caught by her or else you'd be kicked out not only from their household but out of the planet. It'd be like trying to cross a minefield when trying to catch a glimpse of him without his mother cursing you and your ancestors.

And she advises you not to wander to the wing where his room is located, she's already dealt with enough ladies in the court to know the tricks they play when trying to secretly meet her son, such a shame to wear a pretty face on but to have terrible manners, she shook her head, my son deserves more than your pathetic whore you call your daughter Lord ____. She of course wants the best of the best for her one and only son, the heir to Duke Leto Atreides' throne that's why she's so harsh when it comes to talking about his future partner, hence the future duchess of Caladan.

Paul never liked how his mother welcomed a stranger into their home and taught her things as she did him, he didn't like it when his mother taught him the voice and also had to teach it to her too, he didn't like how fast she was with her lessons just as he was with his, it's a daily torture thinking about how to improve and be faster with his when she is just right behind him, chasing, he wanted to be better so that his mother can see how stronger he is than that cunt who dares compete with the duke's son.

He cannot fathom how angry he was when his mother explained to him that she was chosen to be this girl's teacher, an attention whore, he thought, he once believed that she was another random lady in court trying to win his attention by successfully convincing his mother to be her teacher so that she could get closer to him. No, she was not.

His mother told him that this was only temporary, that she was only here to broaden her experience when it comes to the voice. But oh was she so wrong, she is also stuck in this particularly peculiar power, like him, she's also struggling in using it on command, and he's so frustrated that he's as bad as her, he should be better than her, he should be able to use the voice freely unlike her who's stuck not knowing how to use it, but here. he. was.

"It's good you're up early" Jessica announced, bringing a spoon of food to her mouth. "Your father wants you in full dress before the Emperor's herald arrives"

"Full dress?" He murmurs, glancing from his food to his mom for a second, he hesitates briefly before looking up again. "Military?"

"Ceremonial" His mom answered as he grumbled about the fact he has to wear that itchy old thing again, it makes his neck irritated every time.

"Why do we have to go through all this when it’s already been decided”

“Ceremony” His mom replies; dodging his question just as she pours a cup of water. Paul hums as he thanks his mother for it, waiting for her to slide it to him, although Jessica only reaches for hers before sternly looking back at the boy. “If you want it” she starts “Make me give it to you” she pauses for a few seconds to drink her cup and put it down.

“Use the voice”

“Mom, I just woke up” He shakes his head, his eyes still slightly puffy from a good night’s sleep, he looks at his mom thinking she was joking but was only met by Jessica’s stoic face, he inwardly sighs as he concentrates glaring at the glass. “Give me the water”

Jessica almost laughed at her son, she remembered her apprentice days at the Bene Gesserit when the sisters would always be so frustrated in teaching her the voice as she is now with Paul.

“The glass can’t hear you, dear. Command me” She pulled a tight lipped smile while Paul gripped his spoon and fork in exasperation, he sighs heavily as he tries again, but this time, intently looking at his mother’s eyes so he could finish and just eat peacefully. He stares daggers into his moms direction as he hears the melodic sound of the chimes behind him or the painting of his grandfather who he felt like was looking at his grandson. Momentarily, he remembers you, who’s probably still sleeping soundly like a pig after the feast last night. He doesn’t understand why his father lets you eat with them at the dinner table, like, you're not family or anything, you're. just. an. apprentice, an apprentice of his mother nothing more nothing less, so why do you act like you're welcome to just ransack their home, eat their food, sleep in their beds, eat with them, train with them, and God knows what else.

“Give me the water”

Jessica’s eyes flickered briefly, she slowly held the cup, dragging it to Paul when she abruptly snapped from her illusion, her eyes blinking from the water to Paul before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Almost” She added whilst just pushing the water manually to him. “Almost?”

“Bene Gesserit skills takes years to learn, Paul”

“Mm-hmm”

“You look tired,” she hinted. “More dreams?”

“No,” Paul paused, shaking his head, his eyes flickering to his spoonful of food, his mind briefly flashing the girl in his dreams, face blurred and unseen, he still recalled how much his fingers itched to reach out to her, to see her hood fall down and finally see the face that’s been hiding from him. “How’s she doing?” He quickly shook the mysterious girl in his mind and changed the subject.

“Hm who?”

“You know who I’m talking about mom” He quipped “Mhm, she’s fine since you asked so nicely”

“Mom–” He sucked in a breath. “I meant, how’s her lessons going” Jessica quirked an eyebrow, she knows her son hated her apprentice ever since she brought her in, a little uncomfortable at first because of the tension between the two, but she and Leto managed, it was like having another child but the other didn’t need that much affection, Paul would always ask her about her lessons, what they’re studying on, or if she has used the voice yet.

“She’s good. although–” she paused. “Why are you always asking about her?” paul halted, still holding his spoon mid-air, he half expected his mom telling him how she was behind her studies, or how frustrating it was in teaching her the voice or how he was ahead of her, but then he also expected his mom getting suspicious of his questions about her, no wonder because he asks them almost everyday.

“Nothing at all, just –”

A pregnant pause fills the room.

“Curious”

—

“Huh?"

You woke up minutes later, with saliva running down your neck, you glanced around your room whilst zoning out, after a few more minutes you decided that you needed to be productive early in the morning so you lifted up both your arms and gave them a good stretch, along with your legs. You sluggishly sat at the edge of your single bed and yawned, once again stretching your arms up, though when you sat up you didn't even want to stand anymore, so you sat there and started getting lost in your own world.

Your mind wanders back to your lessons, what will Jessica train you with today? You hoped it isn't about the use of the voice, you've grown tired of it already, everyday, every morning, every afternoon, every night you had to do it, it was voice here, voice there, voice everywhere, you wonder how could Paul deal with that tirelessly day after day.

Oh.

Paul.

The first moon you were here he didn't like you, no, he hated you, he hated you so much that some of the staff in the castle had also grown to dislike you unjustified, I mean, who are they to just hate you and judge you without even speaking to you first?

You tried weeks to get the others to like you, only some of the few broke their walls and began talking to you, most of the time your alone in the castle, and if you're not alone, your training with Jessica, only Jessica and Leto were very welcoming to you, Jessica told the people of the castle to treat you like you were one of them at the very start, but I guess only some got the memo, thought at least they don't physically hate you like throwing a punch like what people from your homeland would do if they disliked someone.

People say you're sensitive for thinking like that, saying they don't hate you, it's just because you're new, no, it's been a year and they still treat you the same, where's the honor in that?

Your thoughts were snapped back when the sound of the door opens, you quickly dove under the pillows to seize a hold of your knife, and you can thank Jessica for that, she specially had it made for you to fit your fighting style, or whatever she was talking about, you're just thankful for the knife so you can use it for when you're in danger, which is now.

You slowly got up from your bed and silently made your way to the wall near the door, you hid behind it as your sweaty palms made your grip on your knife slightly loose, you frown as you blink incessantly from the stinging of your sweat dripping down your eye. After a few seconds the creaking of the door opening stopped, but you hear no footsteps on the other side, you wanted to take a peak but you can just hear Jessica’s voice in your head telling you she’ll kill you herself if you do it– if you even do it.

All of a sudden your eyes spotted a figure beside you and you instantly got up and stabbed whoever it was when you were slammed to the wall with your hands held on either side of your head, you quickly clamped your eyes shut and simply awaited your impending demise.

1..

2..

3…

4..

5..

6..

“Huh?” you slowly open your other eye in confusion.

“Slept that well huh?” You recognize that voice. You blinked your eyes open to a very, very close proximity Paul, his half-lidded eyes glaring at you like a hawk, you allow your eyes to travel down to his night blouse that must’ve been worn down over the years of wearing because it’s now drooping down giving you a pleasant view of his sculpted abs, you gulp nervously as silence fills the situation your in, you try to wiggle yourself out but Paul’s grip was too tight on you, especially when he has your legs stuck in between his, though, your eyes still remain on his abs and you just cannot take them off.

“Eyes are up here, bene gesserit”

“I am not a bene gesserit”

“You will be”

“I will, but not yet”

“So I’ll call you bene gesserit yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“Abso-”

“Very well… bene gesserit”

“Absolutely not!”

“I–”

“You dare raise your voice at me?”

“no..”

“Speak up, bene gesserit”

“No,” you hesitated, ”my lord..”

“Hm” he tilted his head closer to your face as you do your best to back away, his eyes travel down to your lips, nervous, you bit the inside of your cheek, although, you took this chance to study his face, he had a very defined jawline, like super sharp, his curls tickle your face as he looks up once again– slowly, he steps and turns away from you to exit the room, but before he could pass the door, he looks over his shoulder and adjusted his blouse.

“Mom informed me to tell you that you are required to join us later,” he paused, “ Wear ceremonial”

And with that he heedlessly left the room with you speechless.

—

You gape in awe as the ship slowly landed unto the ground, you thought it might’ve looked like an egg for it was in the color of white and shaped like a circle, although it also looked menacing at the same time due to the fact that it was huge, you glance at the heir beside you who was also staring at the ship, however, he didn’t seem surprised or amazed by it, you shrugged it off and resumed on gawking at the egg ship.

After a few minutes, the door of the ship opened and revealed people, no, creatures? Who were wearing this egg-like helmet with white robes, even the owners looked like their ship, you thought, then came all the others who were wearing black, you were about to laugh at their choice of clothing when you made eye contact with a sister of the Bene Gesserit. She glared at you like you did something to her, it gave you chills and the hair behind your neck stood up, it felt like an eternity when she broke eye contact with you to focus on eying the Duke and Jessica.

“By the grace of Shaddam IV of House Corrino, ascendent to the Golden Lion Throne of Padishah Emperor of the Known Universe,” he paused, “I stand before you as The Herald of the Change” and that was where you zoned out of the situation, you loathe those tedious introductions they always make when coming here, you had to stand and wait for them to finish their considerable length of speech just for it to be their titles and not be even the beginning of the main thing.

You once again glance at the still heir beside you who you couldn’t distinguish what he was thinking, some people are simple to read but Paul wasn’t, he keeps his thoughts to himself without exception.

“We are house Atreides.” He starts. “There is no call we do not answer, there is no faith that we betray, the Emperor asks us to bring peace to Arrakis”

You notice how Paul reacts to his father leading as a Duke, his usual stoic expression softens as he watches his father descending the stairs, intently observing his actions, whether it may be his words or the mannerisms he carries while facing such intimidating individuals.

You were snapped back to reality when you’re dragged down the platform aggressively by Jessica, who was fuming by the look on her face when she shushed you as you were about to ask her what was going on. Good thing everyone's eyes were all situated to the Duke who was stamping his seal on the contract.

“J-Jessica–” you stutter out as you stumble constantly upon trying to get up again and again, though Jessica doesn’t even flinch while she tightens her hold on your wrist even more. For what seems like an eternity of getting dragged around, Jessica finally releases your bruised wrist, although you were thrown in a room that looks more likely hers and the Duke’s, you stumble once again on your feet while rubbing your wrist to cease the domineering pain that’s slowly taking over.

“What did I explicitly warn you about the very moment I brought you here?”

“That- that I shouldn’t interact with my lor—”

A harsh slap cuts your response short, you were apalled that you didn’t feel anything for a second, that was when everything came back to you and the pain hit right away, your hands tremble as you cup your right cheek, a tear sliding down the bright red spot on your face, your teeth clattering together whilst your lips quivering as to try stop incoming tears from falling—but you aren't capable of hiding that, your tears were falling nonstop like someone had just thrown water on your face.

“Then why?! “ You flinched as Jessica screamed in your face. “What do you mea–”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN"

You tried to think of anything, anything you did that violated the rule but you've been doing good since the start of your life here, thought, you thought back to the one this morning, did she see it? If she did then why get mad now and not earlier?

“ANSWER. ME”

"I didn't mean to! I didn't know you'd get this mad for just a simple thing!”

" Simple? SIMPLE?" she scoffs, massaging her forehead intensely. “I brought you here to teach you, and what I asked for was painless, it was comprehensible, and you just had to break it did you? You didn't listen to me”

"I wasn't the one who started it!"

“SILENC—”

"ENOUGH OF THIS!” Duke Leto came in haste, his chest heaves up and down from running in a long distance, you were grateful that he interrupted Jessica or you would've been incinerated alive and standing. You were so busy trying to think of a solution to the situation that you didn't notice Leto dragging you behind him, as if to hide you from her wrath, from the months you've been training with Jessica you've never seen her this angry, like ever, I mean sure, it's already been months struggling to perfect the use of the voice and every time, she's frustrated but shes never shown this much emotion to you in never.

“She is just a child, Jessica! Show some decency, What would anyone think of you for exploding on her like that for such a small mistake?!“

“Don't start with me Leto, we already talked about this”

"But not talked enough," he paused. “Go to your room child"

You didn't need to be reminded for the second time before you fled the scene, hastily rushing to your quarters before anyone sees you and grasps the whole situation and before you know it, it's now the whole universe’s business, though, when you were about to reach the hallway where your quarters are you passed by the one responsibleness you got yelled at— Paul, you were dumbfounded by how calm he was while reading a book, like the argument wasn't heard throughout the castle.

You wanted to confront him about everything, but you know your still in the heat of the moment and didn't want to unleash your anger on him amd get banished by both the Duke and Jessica, so you kept your mouth shut and headed to your room.

—

"It's useless, we have to get rid of it, this is a taint in your honor, an illegitimate offspring" a man whispers, his face unknown and covered as he looks down to the sleeping newborn. "Give it a few hours, we'll kill the mother and all the servants who helped birth her, make sure there's no one left"

"Wake up child"

"wake up"

"hey, wake up"

"My lady, wake up"

You shot out of your bed whilst panting like you were just running a mile, you clutch your chest as you try and regain your breath,the sun wasn't up yet when you checked your window, after a few seconds of organizing yourself, the maid who woke you up came back with a small candle and rushed by your side.

"My lady," she bows. "Her Lady Jessica wishes to see you— urgently"

You were still disoriented from your slumber that you only heard 'urgently', so you quickly stood up from your bed and followed wherever she went.

You were about to ask her what was happening when she pushed you, gently, but strong enough to get you to a room where Jessica was in, her back turned to you as she tapped her foot impatiently.

"Here she is, my lady" she bows. "Thank you Satyana. You may go"

You nervously fiddle with your fingers as Satyana shuts the doors, a long awkward silence filled the room because no one dared to make a sound.

"I—"

"My—"

"Oh don't, you can—"

"Please, go ahead."

"No, I–"

"I insist"

"uhm," you hesitated. "I-I didn't mean what I did, it just- just happened and I really thought it wasn't going to go against what you said because I really wasn't the one who started and I did my best to stop it but he just—"

"I understand," she stated, "And, my deepest apologies for exploding on you like that, It is entirely my fault for making such a small thing turn big and I'm held fully responsible if you feel any hatred towards me after what happened, but I accept what you feel and your judgement about me"

You were taken aback by her confession, you never ever imagined your mentor apologizing to you like this, wholeheartedly, she was supposed to be stern, fierce, scary, but here she is apologizing to her apprentice.

"I—", you paused. "I don't know what to say.."

"It's alright if you hate me now—"

"NO!", you yelled abruptly, covering your mouth as you realized you just shouted at your mentor. "I mean, no, I don't hate you, and, you don't have to apologize, it's me that should, I was the one who went against you and everything... " Your words die in your mouth as Jessica slowly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for a hug, you hesitated if you were going to also wrap your arms around her but you decided neither, only placing it awkwardly on her back and tapping her gently.

"So, do you forgive me?" you paused for bit, contemplating for the proper answer. "I.. I forgive you"

You almost thought you could feel her smile as she continous to hug you, like a mother would to her child.

—

After last night you peacefully slept the remaining moonlight that was until Satyana once again woke you up, Lady Jessica wanted you to train with the old man today to freshen you up, a little break from using the voice and focus on physical. You thought about the first time he trained you the day after you arrived, he was very rough at first, he didn't trust you completely that the next day you were dead as daylight, you slept for the whole day with sores on your feet and hand from continously fighting, Lady Jessica took care of you, your legs were like jello when you tried to stand, your muscles were pulsing, you recall seing Paul silently judge you for being 'weak' as Gurney called you, but overtime, he softened up and treated you normally, though, your sessions with him are still rough, you adapted and surprisingly learned a lot.

The maids helped you with your training clothes, but you decided against it and only wore the pajamas you had, it was too early in the morning to wear such tight fitted outfit and you weren't in the mood to struggle in pulling it up your butt.

Though, you can ask Gurney to postpone it and just move it later afternoon. And so you did, still groggy from your slumber, you stood up and headed to the training room whilst rubbing your eyes and stretching your arms, you tried cracking your fingers like how the Duke Leto taught you although your still scared of breaking them so you didn't persist.

You finally arrived at the entrance of the training room, where you heard swords clanking? You gently peeked from the archway outside just in time to catch Paul's gaze already on you, you watch him exchange hits with Gurney as the sound of sheilds echoes around the room, what seemed like an eternity watching them fight, Paul misses his footing causing him to fall, hard on the floor while Gurney took the chance to pin him to the floor with his weapon.

"Ah, the slow blade penetrates the sheild"

"I fell"

"That's no excuse"

"But I fell"

"You're distracted"

Paul scoffs, throwing his weapon aside as he turns his sheild off, suddenly. Gurney turns his head to where you were, and you hastily whipped your head back and clutched your pajamas close to you. You waited for a few seconds but nothing happened, so you peeked again, slowly, you thought you were being sneaky because Gurney's back was still turned to you while cleaning his equipment, you internally thank the Gods he didn't see you so you won't have to train at all.

That was when you were tackled to the ground by none other than Paul, he pins your hands above your head and brings your legs between his, locking them together, you hear Gurney laughing and clapping in the background, clearly entertained, you gave the both of them a scowl and rolled your eyes the meanest you could, you tried to wiggle out of Paul's hold once again but once again, he doesn't budge, though his grip on you was more tighter than last time, you continue trying to remove him from you but nothing works, and you couldn't kick his balls because he's got your legs stuck, finally, you look up and glare at him but he was already looking down on you, like you were some toy he was playing with, you notice how perplexed and amused he was at the same time, you gulp nervously as his curly hair dips down and touches your face, not once he breaks his eye contact with you, while your there skittishly struggling to not make eye contact with him.

After all these months of him torturing you secretly everyday, you've never been infuriated with him until now, he's not just making you look weak, he's embarassing you infront of Gurney, who looked like he's having the time of his life watching the two of you riggle like worms on the ground.

He finishes his laugh-off and approaches the two with two swords in hand. "Since the both of you are already here, it would be a complete waste to not duel each other yeah?"

"Uh-huh" Paul lets you go to grab a sword, he swings it on his hand several times to warm it up, he was about to turn his sheild on when you took the chance to swing at him, he instantly defended his stance, blocking your attack, he clashes his sword to yours, causing your sheild to tremble.

"Come on laddy! Play fair!" Gurney hooted, whistling like he were in a gladiator arena, you huff and slammed your hand on the motor, turning your sheild off. "Now were talkin!"

Paul continously attacks you with no opening to get back at him, you wiped the sweat dripping down your cheek as he endlessly assualts you. "Come on girl your getting sluggish!"

You felt as though your lungs might burst, you were getting tired but one misstep could lead you to getting stabbed by him, he didn't look like he wanted to stop at anytime, at first you thought he was only hyper but he looks furious when you caught his eye for a moment. Your chest heaves up and down rapidly, you double stepped on your feet as your back slammed on the floor and you groaned in pain, clutching your head as you hear Gurney shouting in the corner.

Everything was blurry, your eyes wanted to close so bad but you fought against, your ears were ringing dreadfully as you felt yourself getting cross-eyed, your surroundings were all numb to you as the ringing in your ears gradually disappeared which you were grateful to because you had the time to calm yourself down and gain back your eyesight. You hurriedly got up from the ground and you see Gurney holding your head and rubbing the aching spot, you gently held his wrist as he asks a bunch of questions directed to you.

"Who told you to get rough huh lad? Look what you did to her"

"It's not my fault she slipped her foot and hit her head"

"Ugh, Gurney..I'm fine—"

Gurney sucks his teeth in annoyance as he helps you up. "Stop spitting nonsense kid, now get up so we can get you checked."

"No Gurney- it's no big deal—"

"Too bad kiddo," he grunts as he grips your arms to help you. "Now, our dear Paul here will help you get there"

"Huh?"

"What?!"

"You heard me, now go, before your mother sees her beloved student injured and you, grounded for the rest of your life"

Paul groans loudly, wanting you to see how much he despises the situation and you, why does he have to come with you, you injured yourself, not him, he saw it with his own eyes how you got distracted for a second and missed your step and fell down, why is he the one bearing the consequences when your the one at fault here? Talk about justice.

He was about to exit the room but Gurney pulled his blouse and threw him to your direction, he gestured your arm to Paul for him to take, though he didn't move an inch, so Gurney being Gurney, he pulled Paul's other arm to wrap around your waist to support your back, he snaked your right arms around Paul's neck and made him hold it steady for you to stand.

"I hate this"

"You've got no choice, you caused this, you finish it"

"But it wasn't even me—"

"Go"

Paul didn't bite back before Gurney's stern gaze, he drags you outside the training room and headed for the infirmary. You could feel Paul internally wishing he could throw off the balcony for God's sake, though Caladan was a cold country, the exercise from this morning made the two of you hot and sweating, so you're internally and externally burning whilst Paul's body heat melts with yours making matters worse.

"You're– so heavy—"He grunts, "You know that right?—"

You gritted your teeth irritation, "Thanks for reminding me"

An awkward pause filled the room after Paul didn't acknowledge you, you only contineud on limping while he keeps you upright, his grip on your waist gradually gets tighter and tighter the more you falter your steps, he grumbles on how you can't even walk properly despite it only being a small limp, saying how he can walk straight anyways even with a hole on his leg, you only cringed and rolled your eyes at the boy. Although, deep down inside, your getting butterflies everywhere, day one you would've gone into coma if she knew you were in this situation with Paul, I mean you are getting butterflies now, but at the same time you hated his guts from top to bottom.

—

"The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam is here." She hesitates, "She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school, she's now truthsayer to the Emperor himself—"

Jessica nervously fiddles with her fingers as her son awaits her response. "She would like to meet you"

"Why?"

She looks down to her trembling hands. "She wants to know about your dreams."

"How does she know about me dreams?"

Paul looks to her for clarification, but was met with no answer, he gets slightly irritated by the thought of someone very close to him snitching, though, he couldn't pin point who because there was three of them, but he knows in the back of his mind who this person is.

"And why is Dr. Yueh here?" Jessica can't bear to see her son like this, to see him worry and panic for the unknown, she wanted to hug him and tell him everything is going to be fine, but also as a Bene Gesserit, she wouldn't— couldn't.

"He only needs a moment"

"Hello, young master" Paul catiously turns his head to the doctor, lifting his chin up, careful not to show his disappointment. "Your mother asked me to check your vitals"

Paul hesitates for a moment as Dr. Yueh held his head and slowly worked his way through it. "What's happening?"

"The Bene Gesserit say they serve the greater good..." he pauses, "But, meaning no disrespect to your lady mother and her student— they also serve their own designs."

"What are you saying?"

Dr. Yueh ignores him and gently squeezed his shoulder, "Go carefully"

"His heart is strong as ever, my lady"

Jessica gestured a language to dr. Yueh as he nods and leaves the room while Paul can only look at his mother pitifully. His head is so full of questions that he feel it might explode in any second, his mother gestures him to follow her as she covers her trembling hands with her sleeves, her chest heaves up and down nervously for her son, they were about to reach a big black door when Jessica hurriedly turns and faces her son, she reaches out for his face and cradles it in her hands, like how she was when he was a little boy.

'remember your training'

She puts her hood on as she enters the room anxiously with Paul following behind her. Paul glares at the figure sitting inside the library.

who. are. you

The figure whispers through the air, Paul glowers at it, hiding slightly behind his mother, he thought about those widowed women he read in that one book, who wears all black and a veil to signify that their husband was dead and their mourning, but the figure's veil was so high up her head she looks like some—

"Defiance in the eyes," she pauses, "Like his father"

"Leave us."

Jessica nervously looks at her beloved son, her trembling fingers holding his shoulders, whispering to him before hurriedly leaving "You must do everything the Reverend Mother tells you"

"You dismiss my mother in her own house" Paul glares back to the 'Reverend Mother' as if to show he wasn't scared of her and how insulted he was when she ordered his mother to leave, at her very own household, oh how the Bene Gesserit think of themselves highly, he thought, clenching his fists in anger.

"Come here. Kneel"

Before Paul knows what was happening, he was already kneeling down infront of the Reverend, his eyes blinking in bewilderment, she used the voice so easily like it was a normal thing for her to. "How dare you use the Voice on me"

The Reverend didn't answer, only observing Paul as he continous on glaring at her, her eyes falters in a millisecond before she moves her hand revealing a black box.

"Put your right hand in the box" though Paul took his stand and only clenched his jaw, lifting his chin up.

The Reverend Mother only look at him before scolding him. "Your mother bade you obey me" He hesitates, biting the his cheek before shaking his head, he slowly slid his hand into the hole, sucking a breath in preparing to whatever was going to happen.

Suddenly, the reverend points a sharp needle into his neck. "I hold at your neck the Gom Jabbar"

"A poison needle, instant death" she begins, "the test is simple"

"Remove your hand from the box, and you die"

"What's in the box?"

A few seconds pass before the reverend answers him.

"Pain"

"I— "

"No need to call the guards" she pauses, "A Bene Gesserit stands behind that door, no one would get past her"

"Why are you doing this?"

"An animal caught in a trap will gnaw off its own leg to escape." she halts, lifting her head up. "What will you do?"

Paul looks from the needle to the box, seemingly trying to think of some plan to get out, he wanted to laugh at that moment, when he felt tingling in his fingers and pulled his lips together hard. How could this be a test? He pondered. The tingle turned into an itch.

The itch became a slight burning. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded.

Paul clenches his hand as the slight burning feeling increased, his lips quiver as he tries not to show weakness, he felt needles pricking his palms and eventually his fingers.

His arm throbbed with pain. Sweat was clearly visible on his brow. Pulling the hand away from the flaming pit was the sound of every fiber screaming, however... the gom jabbar. He attempted to move his eyes to view that awful needle resting next to his neck, but he was unable to do so. He attempted to decrease his breathing but was incapable after realizing he was gasping for air, he screams in anguish as he felt his muscles getting ripped from nerve to nerve.

Then suddenly, like a switch, the pain disappeared, and the door behind them opens.

—

Meanwhile Jessica was tasked to fetch you after she delivered Paul to the Reverend Mother, she hurriedly proceeded to your room where you were peacefully sleeping, your room was big, but not as big as the Astreides', she had you decide what you wanted to do with it because she was used to taking care of a boy she wasn't aware what to pick or use for a girl.

She gently pused aside the curtains that cover your bed, they were the first thing you wanted to add to your room because you saw it in one of those libraries where they would put curtains over their beds and sometimes even lights, they looked immaculate, but you decided on the curtains only because you were too scared they'd find you spoiled and kick you out and you'll go back to the school.

"Hey.."

She nudges you awake.

"Wake up"

"Huh?" you squint at the harsh light hitting you. "Come with me."

You were about to question it but you see Jessica nervously mumbling and fiddling her fingers that's when you realized it was serious, she brings her hood up and she gestures you to keep quiet, she leads you to a dark hallway and you felt compacted the more you drew near wherever she was leading you, your mind fills with countless questions of what was happening, what's got The Bene Gesserit Jessica so scared and nervous, you frown as her walk increases, she sucks in a breath and abruptly stops in front of a big door, she looks at you pitilly like she was about to say something, her longing eyes searching yours for something, and you return her look, tyring to find reassurance with her, but she only gulped and whispered some unknown words into your ears.

"Don't be nervous, child, for he'll be there"

You heard the fear in her voice, and despite her best trying to soothe you, it made you even scared.

She held your lower back and nods as you slowly but surely unlocked the door, then immediately, not even halfway in turning the handle, you flinch as you were met by Paul's agonizing scream, his mother, who was already suffering in silence, gasps in distress in hearing his son be racked in pain, you pushed through the door and see Paul's teary eyes staring at you, you swear you saw some relief in his gaze in contrast to the Reverend Mother who was staring at you like you did something to her.

You bow to the Reverend, addressing her before lifting your head and hiding your fidgeting hands from her.

"You called for me?"

Paul stands up immediately when the reverend pulls the Gom Jabbar away from his neck, dusting his attire as he backs up slowly.

"Come child"

And as Paul was earlier, and in a blink of an eye your feet carried you unconciously to the Reverend Mother, your eyes flutter in bemusement as Paul paid you no mind and remained glaring at the Reverend.

"Have you been training?" she asked. "I have- Lady Jessica has been generous in teaching me your ways despite not being in the school"

"Show me"

"What?"

"Show. Me" she halts, raising her head to observe you more carefully. "If you what you say is indeed true— then, show me what you've gained."

"Use the voice"

"I have learned various other talents, not only the voice, I am useful in everyway you can see— "

"So use it, use the voice, child"

You attempt to call Paul for aid since he has already used the voice despite failing, but in any event he did but you were helpless, you were about to admit that you didn't know when Paul suddenly spoke up.

"I can"

"I only asked of her"

"But wouldn't you want to see mine, the son of the Duke and Lady Jessica" any other person would've thought he was brave, but all you could see was how he nervously gulped and the sweat running down his face, he clenches his jaw as he hears the worry in your voice as you whisper his name.

"Hm" She hummed and looked towards the door, "Jessica!"

Jessica almost busted the door open as she stood there emotionless, all her worry vanished when she set her eyes on her unharmed and alive son, she managed a faint smile.

"Now," she began, "Tell me about these dreams"

"I had one tonight"

"What did you see?" she immdediately responded. "A girl."

"On Arrakis"

"Have you dreamt of her before?" Paul hesitated, meekly glancing to the ground then to the girl beside him. "Many times"

"Do you often dream things that happen just as you dream them?"

"Not exactly"

A pregnant silence fills the dark eerie room, despite it being comfortable in the morning, it looked a lot scarier now that it was unlit and pitch black. You peak at the reverend who was still observing the certain heir.

After a few moments she stood up, ready to depart. "Goodbye young humans."

"I hope you live"

And thus, you watch the Jessica accompany the Reverend Mother outside, your gaze remained on them until the door shuts close.

"Are you—"

"Leave me alone" He slaps your hand away as he stomps outside in a hurry, you didn't think much of it since he has gone through much for just one night, his pained scream still haunts your mind despite only just happening moments ago, you clench your fists as youlet out a breath you didn't know you were holding until now.

You hesitated to follow after him or to just go back to your quarters.

You came after him.

—

"Did you have to go that far"

"You chose to train him in the Way, in defiance of our rule," she berated, "He weilds our power. He had to be tested to the limits"

"So much potential, wasted in a male"

"And there's the girl, I gave her to you so you could train her like a daughter you never bore, and for me to learn that she hasn't even grasped anything about the Voice? Oh you disappoint me Jessica"

"You were told to bear only daughters, but you, in your pride, thought you could produce the Kwisatz Haderach." She criticized. "Was I wrong?"

"Your lucky he didn't die in that room" the reverend abruptly faces Jessica. "If he is the One, he has a long way to go"

"His sight is barely awakened and now he goes his hero complex and decides he could bite back and protect that stupid girl I brought you, such stubborness from his father"

"But our plans are measured in centuries, we have other propects— If he fails his promise"

"Do you see so little hope?"

"On Arrakis, we have done all we can for you, a path has been laid, let's hope he doesn't squander it" Jessica grips her hood and skirts as the ship ascends the dark skies, her lips quiver as she thought about her son, who has yet found his way, and to her student, who day by day is becoming closer to Paul.

She hugs her clothes as she turns around to come back when she was met by Paul's figure, stiffly standing behind the thick fog.

"Paul"

"What does it mean?" she removes her hood down. "That I could be the One?"

A/N: OH EM GEE this was a very very very very very long chapter, I mean, the longest that i've written, next chapter will be coming soon...

#dune #paul atreides imagine #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #dune x reader #duke paul x reader #duke x reader #dune paul x reader #paul x reader #dune paul atreides x reader #dune movie #timothée chalamet #timothee chamalet #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #the fates will find a way #trashycvntt

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houserautha · 25 days

Text

These Destined Ends

Part 1

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

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

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

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

“Chin up.”

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

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

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

“Do what?” She asks, feigning innocence.

“Don’t make me say it.”

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

Mother and daughter stare at one another.

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

But it wasn’t enough.

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

The Kwisatz Haderach.

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

A terrible mantle for an unborn child.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I won’t miss your singing,” you say.

He stops playing. “You jest.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Nonsense.”

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

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

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

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

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

The Harkonnens.

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, Gurney. For everything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thought makes your knees tremble.

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

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

At least for awhile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are an Atreides. And you always will be.

No one can take that from you.

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

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

A display of power and wealth.

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

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

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

Your slippered feet reverberate off the high ceilings.

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

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

The soldiers do not answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your gaze moves quickly, eagerly, away from him.

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

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

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

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

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

A chill dances down your spine.

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

Part 2

#dune part two #dune #feyd x you #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd smut

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valeskafics · 1 month

Text

"Fantasy Come True" - Paul Atreides x Harkonnen!Reader

a/n: combined the SHOCKING amount of requests you nasties sent for sex on top of a sandworm with mommy kink and harkonnen!reader 🤭🩷

Summary: Generations of enmity come to an end when you, the only niece of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, and Paul Atreides, the son of Duke Leto and Lady Jessica, are wed to each other.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, dream manipulation, semi public sex, breeding kink, p in v sex, creampie

Word Count: 1,500

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

Generations of enmity come to an end when you, the only niece of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, and Paul Atreides, the son of Duke Leto and Lady Jessica, are wed to each other in a ceremony on Arrakis. Your houses are united and the Atreides and Harkonnen clans now each have a representative to rule on Arrakis and oversee the spice trade. And, even if Paul Atreides is the Chosen One - the Kwisatz Haderach - the machinations of the Bene Gesserit will not go to waste. Even if Paul was meant to be a daughter who was meant to be promised to your beloved brother, Feyd, the old women are just as happy with this arrangement.

What no one expected, however, was for you and Paul to see this as more than an arrangement of necessity. No one expected for the two of you to fall deeply, madly, passionately in love. Feyd and Rabban aren’t particularly fond of the idea, especially Feyd who seems to make it his business to ruin things for you and your newlywed husband at every turn, not entirely trusting him. Feyd is always casting him dirty little glances, making threatening remarks about the body parts he’ll remove from your husband should Paul ever hurt you. But Paul doesn’t care. He doesn’t fear Feyd. You know it comes from a place of love with your brother, and that he has volunteered to remain on Arrakis as your personal guard out of his devotion to you. And so, you humor it. And you convince Paul to as well.

However, your brother has - thankfully - been away to attend to business with Rabban and your uncle on Giedi Prime, leaving you and your husband alone in your palace, free to frolic around and revel in your newlywed bliss. You spend long afternoons together reading in the library, his head in your lap as your fingers play with his curls, exploring the planet and speaking to the Fremen, doing your best to learn their ways.

And, of course, this freedom from Feyd’s overbearing nature has certainly allowed the physical aspect of your relationship to flourish. Paul takes you anywhere and everywhere, the two of you making the excuse that you must bring forth an heir as soon as possible. Though everyone knows the truth of the matter.

You simply can’t keep your hands off of each other.

Tonight is no exception. You fall back onto your plush bed after a long night of making love to your husband, his head resting on your chest as slumber claims him, the steady rise and fall of his chest making you smile.

“What is it that you dream of, my love?” You sigh softly, fingertips tracing the contours of his face as he sleeps peacefully, a grin on his face, “Are you dreaming of me? Let me give you a little dream of me, my sweet Paul.”

You know your abilities aren’t supposed to be used this way, but you don’t care. You close your eyes and enter the world that is Paul’s mind, finding his dream only to confirm that he is indeed dreaming of you. The two of you back on his home planet of Caladan, wrapped in an intimate embrace, his body moving against yours. You decide to spice things up a little bit, quite literally, and weave a scene of the two of you standing on top of a sandworm on Arrakis, riding through the Dune together. You gently push him to lay back, your hand caressing his face as you join your body with his once again, his gaze completely focused on you as you ride him, your hips rolling against his faster and faster. Paul’s hands move up to cup your breasts, groaning as he squeezes, the creature you two lay atop taking a sharp turn, the danger of it all making your adrenaline spike.

“Have you invaded my dreams again, my duchess?” He teases, letting out a moan of your name as he feels you squeezing around him, “Someone could see us, sweet wife. You think this is such a good idea?”

“Shh,” you press a finger to his lips, a coy smile playing on your own as you continue, “Just let me take care of you, my sweet Paul. My darling duke.”

You’re a bit taken aback the next morning when Paul insists that he wishes to make last night’s dream a reality. He drags you by the hand, the two of you in your stillsuits as you climb atop the sandworm, more hesitant and unsure than you were in the dream. Paul climbs up first, extending a hand, the great beast moving at a slower pace than normal. You suppose it’s a perk of your husband having all the powers of the Mahdi. You two embrace tightly, planting your feet firmly as Paul’s hands move along your waist, squeezing your hips, groaning against your mouth.

And just as in the dream, you push him back, undoing the lower half of his stillsuit and your own, joining your bodies as one. He stares up at you, hands resting on your face, lips parted in awe as you begin to move against him. As wonderful as the dreams you two share are, there’s precious little that can compare to the actual feeling of making love. Of having him inside you, of being one with him. He fills you so perfectly, his cockhead hitting spots deep inside of you that you never truly knew existed before he took you for the first time.

Your hand threads in Paul’s curls, tugging playfully, while your other hand rests at his throat, squeezing just enough to keep things interesting. Paul, you learned early on in your marriage, loves having you on top of him, using him for your pleasure, taking charge of your intimate encounters. He loves worshiping you like the goddess you are to him. His duchess, his lady, his wife. Being with you like this is better than anything he ever could have dreamed up.

And God, has he dreamed of you. He’s dreamed of you since he was old enough to remember his dreams. And now, here he is. Laying beneath you, doing something insane and dangerous, and yet having no fear of it because you’re with him, your hair falling around the two of you like a curtain, hiding you away from the rest of the world. Paul sits up to kiss you as you continue bouncing yourself up and down on his cock, faster and faster, every nerve ending in your body and his own feeling as though it’s on fire.

“You feel so perfect, my darling husband,” you murmur against his lips, squeezing his throat gently, “You feel incredible. Fill me with your seed, my love. Let us do our duty. Let me bear you a child, one who’ll make the world tremble before him.”

Paul grins at your words, smiling into your kiss as his mouth moves desperately against your own. He feels his entire body go taught as he spills his seed deep inside you, letting out a low moan of satisfaction. He whimpers slightly when you continue, making yourself come as well before his cock can grow completely soft, the two of you laying atop the sandworm utterly sated and with wide smiles on your faces.

“You’re very wicked for having put this idea in my head,” Paul mumbles, brushing your hair off your face, the two of you fixing your stillsuits and getting ready as Paul commands the creature to move back toward the edge of the Dune, “How is it you seem to know the deepest, darkest desires of my heart better than I do?”

“The same way you know mine,” you whisper before pressing your lips to Paul’s once again.

When Feyd comes back a month later, he’s only somewhat surprised to learn that his beloved little sister is with child. He shoots Paul a scathing look before turning to you, congratulating you and asking when the baby is due.

“Well, it’s been a month since we made love on top of that sandworm, so you should be an uncle in eight months.”

“Oh, that’s wonder- what?”

You beam at your brother while Paul shakes his head from his spot behind Feyd, pleading with you not to tell your brother the intimate details about how the baby was conceived, “Yes, on top of a sandworm. A dream of my husband’s which I made come true.”

“Atreides…” Feyd slowly turns to face your brother, murder in his eyes, jaw locked as he rasps, “Run. And don’t stop running.”

“Is this a bad time to mention that the whole thing was your sister’s idea-”

“I SAID RUN!”

You watch the two of them, bursting into laughter as you rest a hand on your stomach, whispering to the miniscule bump that doesn’t even show yet how lucky he’ll be to have a mother, a father, and an uncle who love him so much.

#paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x you #paul atreides #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #paul atredies x reader #paul atredies x you #paul atredies #dune x reader #dune x you #paul atreides oneshot #my writing

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