#dark!feyd rautha harkonnen

[kasagia]

Right hand

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course not, my na-baron."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen desired you.

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

You were screwed.

Completely and utterly fucked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My na-baron, I..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hand me my dagger."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #house harkonnen #dune part 2 #oneshot #feyd supremacy #feyd smut #feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader #feyd imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #smut #dark romance #toxic behavior

[perlelune]

Play with Fire | Feyd-Rautha

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There will be no more visits.”

His  jaw ticks.

“Is that so?”

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

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

He snickers.

“To some lesser man, I reckon.”

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

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

His hand shoots out to clasp around your throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps that plan worked a bit too well. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you lost your sanity?” she roars.

You shake your head, feigning ignorance.

“Mother, I have no idea-”

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

Your wide eyes find hers.

She shakes a berating finger at you.

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

Your face burns, from both pain and shame.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You coax a demure smile onto your features.

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

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

Your fiancé nods. 

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

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

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

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

“Many…including myself,” he answers evasively.

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

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

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

Concern tickles your insides.

“Is something troubling you, my Lord?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is a relief to hear, my Lord.”

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

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

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

You shake your head, giving a false smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dread shoots through you.

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

You whirl towards her.

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

“Yes, my Lady,” Arisha confirms.

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

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

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

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

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

You swallow past the dryness in your throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Indignation pulses through your words.

“In our home, father?”

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

His gristly, arrogant baritone booms across the field.

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

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

You jump to your feet.

“Guards?” you call sharply.

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

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

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

He snorts.

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

Heat rushes to your face at his lewd reminder. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Terror sings through your veins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The wayward memories slip through your grieving mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My daughter’s hand? Is this a joke?”

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

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

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

“You rascal. I will teach you-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He strokes the side of your face.

“Then do everything I say.”

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

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

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

Paul’s jaw clenches.

“You’re lying.”

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

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

You shiver before feebly uttering, “My Lord…”

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

His anger cracks in the air like a whip.

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

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

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

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

“I see. So it is true.”

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

Paul nods, stepping away from you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha #dune #dune part 2 #feyd-rautha harkonnen #dark!fic

[feyd-rautha-aesthetic]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 - Chapter II: Wrath

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen X f!Reader

- 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐬! 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭! -

Words: around 15.000 (sorry)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Bit Soft! Feyd (only to you!), dark romance (you also have a dark side), biting, biting wounds, blood kink, blood consumption, described murder/gore, organs (splatter?), sexual act, also bloody act (blood from others but also from you both) oral (f! reciving), vaginismus (because of rape, Feyd wants to help 🖤), mentions of rape, tongue on and in v, friction of genitals, skin licking and biting, soft aftercare, mention of sexual act, mention of wound-fucking, hate and aggression, he kills other people because of you and for you, he loves you in a dark way

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You never thought you'd have a Harkonnen by your side. Never. And then of all people, whose name everyone in this galaxy knew: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. But you soon realized that the dark world, Giedi Prime, doesn't scare you as much as you thought it would be. You were starting to like it there. But you also have to learn to live with the downsides.

Flashbacks are written in cursive.

And a big thank you to my beta-readers! 🖤

Feyds POV:

Almost as soft as butter, the blade slid through her throat. Yes, I felt a minimal resistance. Insufficient, inadequate. The smell of blood run to my nose as soon as the blade left her flesh. It was like a drug, every time. Probably the only one that could ever captivate me, ever get me hooked. Taking no real notice to anyone, she fell to the ground as I turned to the lady on my left. Seeing the fear in her eyes, which didn't interest me in the slightest, I rammed the knife into her stomach a few times. Dissatisfied. "Not quite balanced. It's the tip..." , I explained. "It should be sharper!"

I put the knife back and looked wordlessly at my counterpart. He knew what to do and went away. When I looked down, the three Harkonnen in black were already helping themselves to the fresh meat. I didn't say a word to them, ignoring the snarling noises. My eyes fell on the other two ladies, who stood trembling in front of me. "Leave now, you're finished!" , I murmured at them. "Except for the three of them, go! All of you!" But I took the bowl of paint from one woman as she walked past. "Someone else will need the paint in some minutes!" The gorging ladies seemed to feel addressed and suddenly all looked up at me. Their faces covered in blood. Until a few weeks ago I had liked the sight of them, but now I didn't. "You think I mean you? Pathetic!" , I growled at them. Disappointment was evident on their faces, followed by disgust. They hated the Na-Baroness. But I didn't care. I just wanted them to have respect for her. The way they dared to look at me right now, they would never look at (y/n). Otherwise, they would die at by hands. I didn't realize at that moment that this would be the case in just a few minutes.

The aroma of blood filled the whole room. The dark liquid seeped across the floor, the ceiling of the room and a pet was reflected in it. I remained silent, mentally preparing myself for the fight. It could be over in a few seconds or in several minutes. Everyone's body reacted differently to the drugs. I didn't notice one of the cannibals watching me. Not until she stood up and tried to put her bloody hands on my chest. But I firmly grabbed her wrists and pushed her aside. "Are you nervous, Master?" , she asked me. She didn't seem to understand my action. I glared at her angrily. "Shut up! Your friends are also quiet!" , I hissed at her and turned away. I looked towards the entrance and waited, impatiently inside, for my Baroness. Somehow I was sure she could improve my mood. The day had started well, but ever since we'd been disturbed, I'd just been annoyed. Maybe there would be enough time to...

I felt something soft downwards from my belly button. All my muscles tensed as I watched the Harkonnen lady spread kisses further and further down. Her fingers slid over the leather on my hips. I watched her for a few seconds. Not because I was sexually aroused. But because she didn't accept my words. Hadn't I said clearly just a few minutes ago that I no longer wanted the three of them? They didn't even listen to me? I growled angrily, but she seemed to misunderstand, because she didn't stop her touches. With a quick movement of one hand, I had her jaw between my hands again and pulled her up to her feet. "Can you or won't you listen to me?" , I murmured. I hadn't noticed that the other two were now also looking in our direction, having interrupted their meal. "No respect today, it seems?" , I asked further. Tears of pain gathered in her eyes. My grip became so tight that even my fingertips hurt a little. I stepped closer to her and looked into her watery, black eyes. With a jerky movement, I yanked her to the floor. A cracking sound filled the room, followed by a pained groan. I watched for a moment as she lay trembling on the floor. One side of her jaw was completely dislocated. I walked past her with quick steps and picked up the black blade.

"I haven't tested this one yet, ladies. Let's change that!" , I growled delightedly. The Harkonnen, who was lying on the ground, turned laboriously in my direction. I glanced at the others, who were slowly getting up. "BACK ON THE GROUND!" , I shouted at the two of them. And they obeyed this time. I twirled the black blade once in my hand before grabbing the injured lady by the upper arm and pulling her up roughly. I felt that I dislocated her arm in the process. "Look here, ladies!" , I murmured and got down on my knees. I placed the wounded female in front of me so that we were at the same height. Tears trickled down her face. "Tsk, tsk." , I clicked my tongue. "When you're naughty, you have to be punished. Actually, you know all about that." My free hand clutched her jaw again to keep a grip on her head. The sword cut through the black leather, across her chest. There was only minimal damage to her skin. I was almost surprised that her exposed breasts didn't aroused me. Not anymore. Her breathing was rapid, full of panic. My arm wrapped around her neck to tighten my grip on her. But to make sure she really wasn't going to bolt, I rammed sword into her thigh muscle. A scream briefly filled the room until I pressed my hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. "Shut the hell up!" , I bared my teeth. The pressure only caused me to wring her jaw even more.

A little blood collected in her mouth, which flowed down along with her saliva. I looked at the other two again, they weren't moving at all. Their only movement was their heavy breathing. With a swift movement of my hand, I cut open her chest without warning, my hand still on her mouth to stifle her new cries of pain. "You will have respect for me again! Apparently you've lost it! And respect for your future baroness!" Her jaw suddenly gave way under my firm hand and now just hung open. Impossible to move it again by herself. A disgusting sight for others. I, on the other hand, was not bothered by it.

I threw the sword to the ground and now, literally, laid hands on her. My fingertips dug into the deep wound between her breasts, penetrating deeper and deeper into the warm flesh. I tore open her ribcage with a powerful jerk. A loud crack, splashes of blood spread across the Harkonnens bare skin and clothes. Her hanging jaw dangled around with the violent movements, my hands now completely stained dark red. I wrapped one arm around her neck again to keep a firm grip on her. My other hand pushed even deeper into her until I felt the throbbing organ at my fingertips. I immediately gripped it tightly. More blood oozed from her throat, spreading over my arm and her body, mixing with her own blood from the torn open wound. Her eyes were already half rolled back, but I could feel very clearly that she was still alive. Her life was, literally, in my hands.

With my other hand, I patted her cheek, now smeared with blood. I began to smile. "How good you can be, darling.“ And with a strong tug, I removed her heart from her bleeding torso. I immediately dropped the useless body. A muffled sound filled the room. I briefly examined the warm organ in my hand before putting it aside and reaching for the black sword again.

But just at that moment, the two pets stood up and wanted to run out. I managed to grab one by the arm, but the red liquid on my hand caused it to slip out of my grip. I growled angrily, but decided to let them go. It was more important to keep my strength now.

I dropped the blade to the ground and went back to the heart. I whistled once and the overweight Harkonnen stepped forward again. Trembling, sweat on his forehead. But this did not interest me. He was already stretching out his hands and I dropped the heart roughly into them. "Clean it a little! And put it in a nice box, I want to give it to the Na-Baroness!" I smiled confidently. "Clean the sword too and sharpen it again!" I then turned away from him, bored by the sudden silence. Still breathing a little heavily myself, I sat down on the cool floor to organize my thoughts, to calm down. My breathing slowly calmed down. I looked at my blood soaked hands, wanting to touch my queen with them. When would she get here?

•

Feyd was surprised by your abrupt movement, as you reached for your underwear and stood up. "You need to go. Otherwise they'll really notice that we're spending too much time in here." , you told him and took a deep breath. He watched you, as you slipped back into your jumpsuit and closed the zipper, somewhat awkwardly, at the small of your back. With a quick movement, he stood up and grabbed your wrist. He pulled you over to a small, elegant washbasin and grabbed a black washcloth. He wet it and began to gently cleanse your face. You flinched briefly as the water was freezing cold.

"Are you taking hot showers, Baroness?" , he asked with a nasty grin. "Uh-huh." , you said quietly. "We should change that as soon as possible then." , he replied. He deliberately left a little blood on your lips. From a distance, others could have mistaken it for a decent red lipstick. He also cleaned your arms, watching your arm muscles tense up to the cold water. As he had finished, you gently pushed him aside and took the washcloth from his hand to remove the dried blood from his arms now. However, without soap, the smell of blood still lingered on both of you. Especially on you, which was covered by your clothes. And you suddenly wondered to what extent others would smell it. Would it draw attention to you? Or maybe even make you look stupid? "What are you thinking about?" , your future husband asked you.

Why did he always have to look directly at you as soon as you were in thought? "Nothing important." , you tried to talk your way out of it, but as soon as you said it, you realized how stupid your answer was. Feyd growled again. Not happy about this answer. He broke away from your touch and hastily washed the rest off his fingers under the running water. "You can assume that almost everything you think about is important to me..." , he said, looking at you out of his eyes. He glanced at your necklace again, which had a small bloodstain on it, but he was sure no one would notice. "… Miss Harkonnen."

"Can the others smell it? The... the blood?" , you asked anxiously. "Ah, you've thought about that? Really?" , he asked back, now grinning again. You nodded eagerly. "I don't get my period until next week and-" Feyd's sigh interrupted you. "What did I tell you, Na-Baroness?" , he reminded you. "That it... that it doesn't matter what the others think about me," , you said quietly. "Correct!" Feyd said harshly. There was a brief silence. "You can almost do what you want. No one will think badly of you..." He dried his hands and closed the distance, except for a few milliliters, between you and him. "... especially not when you smell like blood." , he purred, which made you smile timidly. A delicate kiss connected you for a few seconds. Feyd pulled his ring off his right pinky and slipped it on your ring finger. "Wear it during the fight. Otherwise I would break it or hinder my movements." , he mumbled to himself and looked at your hand. "Come on now! I want to see you kill, Feyd-Rautha." , you smiled darkly and grabbed his arm.

•

His angry expression, the powerful look of his body and movements - it almost frightened you. You looked at him with slightly parted lips and startled eyes. It hadn't been planned like this. No sooner had he murdered the last Atreides, you had rushed down to meet him. His arm, the bloody knife still in his hand, wrapped around your waist, pulling you with him as he advanced his steps. "What happened?" , you breathed, barely audible. The gate closed and you caught one last glimpse of the black and white arena. Almost complete darkness enveloped you. "Nothing that kills me so easily." You heard his raspy voice and he placed his lips on the back of your head for a few seconds as he spun around. You felt the knife on your hip.

His arms were trembling slightly, just like yours. His muscles quivered under his skin. Your hand stroked his, where he held the knife. You felt his veins, the heated skin. The cheers of the Harkonnen outside could still be heard loud and clear. You turned to face him, your hands gently stroking his angular face. His gaze was serious, his eyes sombre. But you could also see affection in them. And this was for you alone. You kissed him, full of longing. You were really afraid for a moment that he might die. You had heard Vladimirs words. It had been planned. And Feyd had known nothing about it. Betrayal, deceit.

He licked your lips as he tasted the blood on them. One arm was across your waist, the other across your neck and you knew the blade was right next to your face. But you didn't feel fear for your life. At least not at that moment. Feyd broke away from you, however, and looked at you urgently. "You're... different today." , he began. His voice was damn hoarse, like he was losing it. "What do you mean?" , you asked him, worry rising in you. His free hand rested on your cheekbone and his face came closer to yours again. "You're so... manipulative today. You snake, devil!" , he tried to make you realize. His thumb stroked your lower lip and a smile formed on it. But his bloody knife was suddenly in front of your face. "Tongue!" Feyd commanded. He gulped as your hand gripped his knife-holding fingers tightly and you slowly licked the blood of the knife. You dulled his senses for a moment. Maybe he had another drug than just the smell and sight of blood after all?

He threw the knife to the ground to press his lips hard against yours. Your vision was poor due to the darkness and you startled for a second as he pressed you against the cold wall. "You're like a sin personified!" , he growled and bit down on your jawline, then your neck. This time not so hard as to leave a mark. "Who just started committing the sin?" , you asked breathlessly, but confident of victory. And Feyd broke away from you abruptly, growling at you. Even in the darkness, he could see your playful grin. "Devil!" , he snarled, grabbing you by the wrist to pull his ring from your fingers. "Good thing you were taking care of it, sweetheart!" Your look showed indignation. "Don't call me sweetheart!" , you grumbled. "Why not?" Feyd asked monotonously as he put his ring back on. You realized that he was playing his games with you again. "Your blood tastes sweet. Your skin. Your..." , his fingers gently cupped your chin. "... nectar." Though you could barely see him in the darkness, you knew his hunter's eyes were right on yours. His perverse grin on his face. He grabbed your wrist to pull you into the building. He wanted to talk to his uncle, that rotten traitorous scum!

-

He had taken a 'seconds-shower' and changed his clothes quickly. Feyd and his uncle were surprised that you were not present. Although you had actually sworn to be on good terms with the Baron, you had given him a few nasty looks earlier during the fight. But you hadn't dared to say a word. Instead, you had been very quiet, holding the binoculars in front of your eyes with one hand and covering the bite wound on your neck with the other. You heard Feyd's voice, completely disgusted, say "I ought to drown you in that tub!" "Ought?" , you asked loudly. Several eyes turned to you and Feyd was briefly surprised that you had changed your clothes. You were now wearing a black medium dress, the fabric transparent in some places ((picture below)). A wide leather chocker covered your bite wound. The Harkonnen symbol necklace flashed in the light as you moved quickly, growling to Feyd as you passed, "If you don't do it, I will!"

He didn't stop you, would have even liked to see you attack his uncle, but two guards roughly grabbed you to hold you back. "Murderous scum!" , you hissed between your teeth. "Let her go, now!" , came sternly from Feyd, yanking you from their grasp and pulling you to his side. You looked at the Na-Baron as his jaw clenched, not realizing why he was doing it. The Baron looked you up and down. And it disgusted Feyd! "Stop looking at her like that! Otherwise I'll remove your eyes with my bare hands!" You heard your fiancé growl and your face turned back to his uncle. Feyd trembled a little with rage. Unimpressed, the Baron continued to draw on his shisha. It didn't worry him one bit. "I can smell blood. Are you hurt, nephew?" , he asked after a short silence. Feyd narrowed his eyes halfway for a moment. What was that all about now? Until a smile formed on his lips and he looked straight at you.

He saw panic in your eyes when you understood what the Baron smelled.

The blood of the dead cannibal on you and him. In a matter of seconds, you told the Baron that you were menstruating. The corners of his mouth pulled up a little, nodding in understanding. "The woman's body..." Feyd began, his fingertips gently cupping your jaw and he briefly kissed your lips. "... a true marvel of nature." "Perhaps that explains her arrogant behavior today." Vladimir chimed in. Anger rose up in you again and you tried with all your might not to let it show. It was difficult to admit it to yourself, but it would be better for you to leave now. Otherwise blood would flow through your hand this time. "Go to my chambers, Na-Baroness." Feyd called after you as you turned away from the Harkonnen. His gaze now serious again as his eyes met Vladimir's. "You have your pets for your lusts. You are forbidden to touch each other until after-" "She is my betrothed!" Feyd hissed back. "She'll rule with me as soon as you're out of the picture! Everyone will know her name! She will bear my child one day! And not one of those whores, understand, uncle? It's my birthday... let's say she's one of my gifts." "Gift? Her? No, I have other gifts for you."

•

There was a knock on your door. "(Y/n)?" , you heard the voice of your favorite Harkonnen. You got up immediately and he came in. "How did it go, the conversation with him?" , you asked him as the door closed behind him and exhaled audibly. "It was fine." , he simply replied. Whether it was a lie or not, he couldn't answer himself at that moment. Your eyes were on his face, thinking, and you swallowed once. You didn't know what to say. The situation had just been too awkward for you and you had preferred to leave. You had been afraid that Feyd might be upset. But, so far at least, that didn't seem to be the case. "Come here!" , he said quietly, and pulled you into a gentle hug. You closed your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder. He gently placed one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your back. "Why are you here and not in my chambers?" , he asked in a whisper, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and perfume mixed with the whore's blood.

You released yourself from his pleasant grip and sat down on your bed again. "I wanted to leave you alone for now. That wasn't very easy for either of us earlier." , you explained to him. The warrior squatted down in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. "And that's why you think you have to leave me alone?" , he asked you. "You're someone who calms me down when I'm annoyed or stressed, don't you know that?" , he laughed softly and looked deep into your eyes. Your cheeks flushed and you couldn't suppress a smile. It made you happy to hear those words. "Look..." Feyd began and you could see that he was thinking hard. His eyebrow muscles tightened and he pressed his lips together a little. It was difficult for him to find the right words when it wasn't about hatred and enmity.

"... who decided to want you as future Baroness of Giedi Prime?" , he asked, now looking at you with steady gaze. The question momentarily overwhelmed you. "Y-you?" , you said hesitantly. He nodded. "Who came back to your home planet to fight for you? To confront the other man who also wanted you as his wife?" Feyd's eyes literally bored into yours. His eyes were so fixed on yours that it became uncomfortable and you didn't know where to look. "You. You, Feyd. Even though we'd only known each other for a few days at that time." , you remembered. "Even, unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to murder him." , he added. The Harkonnen leaned his forehead against your breasts. "But it felt damn good to see him lying bloody on the floor. Knowing that I'm better than him!"

His fingers stroked the black mesh fabric of your dress. On closer inspection, he could see the blood underneath it. The blood his uncle had smelled earlier. Feyd kissed the spots gently and his hands tightened around your waist. He felt your hands placed on his cheeks though, making him look at you. "You were almost killed by your own weapon today."

The Harkonnen saw the concern in your eyes as you changed the subject. "I mean no offense, but I really was afraid for your life for a moment." Feyd realized in that moment that you really liked him. In some way. And he realized, almost painfully, that you were probably the first living person in a very long time to feel something positive for him. Something like compassion.

He saw tears gathering in your eyes and he remembered how the dying whore had cried too. No, he didn't want you to feel that feeling. Fear. "But the Atreides wasn't close enough." , he whispered, wiping a falling tear from your face with his thumb. Feyd rose to place his lips on yours. Not firmly and demanding, like after the fight. But gentle, as if you were made of porcelain, which the Harkonnen could break into a thousand shards with one wrong move. His hands slid just as gently over your back, pressing you onto the soft mattress to lean over you. His arms went under your back, pulling you up a little to press your turso against his chest. "You don't need to fear for my life, my Baroness." , he whispered into your ear and one hand detached your chocker from your neck to spread kisses there too. Your slender fingers nuzzled his neck and Feyd purred softly, enjoying your lovely touches on his skin.

"I don't mean any offense, Feyd." He quietly heard your voice again. He hadn't been able to understand it at first, because no one had ever worried about him before. At least not like you. "I know, it's all right." , he whispered back, his lips tracing down to your neckline. "Are you even in the mood?" , he asked you, wanting to make sure after your emotional outbursts that you were really in the mood for intimacy. He didn't just want to use you, your body, for his own desires. Not the Na-Baroness.

When you agreed, he pulled your body higher up to your bed with ease, resting your head comfortably on the pillow. It was important to him that you felt comfortable, and not just because of your traumatizing experiences. In general, at his side. He wanted to position you perfectly beneath him as you quickly pulled him close to kiss him. "Come here now!" A comforting warmth spread through his body. Knowing what beauty desired him at that moment. His hands stroked your bare legs, pulling the mid-dress higher until his fingers touched your underwear.

He noticed that you had changed your previous panties for something skimpier. "You don't have to do that!" he said, amused. "I don't find you any less attractive in boxer shorts." , he told you and his fingers clawed into the waistband of the fabric. You usually wore boxer shorts under sportswear so that they didn't show up under the fabric. You didn't want to look 'cheap'. You wanted to be treated with respect and not draw unnecessary sexual attention to yourself like a cheap hooker. And as if Feyd had been able to read your mind, his lips detached themselves from your body and his fingers from your clothes. He stood up and looked at you thoughtfully. "What have I done?" , you asked, startled, and sat up straight. "Nothing." , he mumbled and looked towards the door for a moment. "Do you have to go?" His eyes looked back into yours and he shook his head. "No." Nevertheless, he went off the bed.

"I will not leave you aroused again, my queen." , he murmured, reaching for your boots to hand them to you. You wondered what his words meant. Was it because you had pleasured yourself, even though he had forbidden it? Or because the situation this morning had generally annoyed him when you were interrupted. Still irritated, you put on your combat boots. "He doesn't want me to be with you now. He doesn't want us to see each other again until tonight." Feyd finally explained. "His words are of little interest to me. But if he realizes that I'm not in my chambers, he'll have someone come here." , he explained as you reached for your second boot. He thought about where you both could hide. Spend time together, which, at least today on his birthday, should be a matter of course. "I know where we can go. Trust me, it's much more comfortable than the hard floor earlier." , he grinned and grabbed your hand to walk out the door with you.

Watchfully, your eyes glided over the corridors, making sure that no one would see you and betray you. The Harkonnen led you into a narrow corridor, up an equally narrow, longer staircase. You didn't know this part of the building yet. Arriving in front of a door, Feyd typed in a code. "2 5 1 7 8." , he said, so that you knew the numbers as well. You entered a simple room, nowhere near as luxurious as your both chambers. But that didn't bother you. You could still see a large bed with familiar black silk bed linen. Two huge floor-to-ceiling windows lit up the room. As you stepped towards them, you could see a large part of the arena. Damn! It was high up here! Two lamps with warm light and two baroque armchairs, similar to the ones in your chambers, stood in the corners of the room. Feyd watched you as you looked out the window and scrutinized your slender figure. "(Y/n), have you eaten anything at all today? Should a servant bring you something?" , he asked you.

You turned around to face him, still startled by the height, and stood only a few centimeters away from him. His cool eyes looked straight into yours. "No, with all the excitement today, I'm not hungry." , you explained to him. "Hmm." , he said and his fingers stroked your figure. "That's not healthy, Na-Baroness." , he replied, his tone quite stern. You nodded in understanding and mumbled, "I know." His other hand patted your stomach. "Then I'll make sure you have enough food tonight."

The Harkonnen himself looked down at the black and white world. "Are you afraid of heights?" , he teased you. "Actually, a little. Yes." , you confirmed to him, with an uncomfortable feeling. You didn't want to show any weakness. You didn't notice how he looked at you when you looked down again.

"I want to be honest with you. No lies or secrets." , he said suddenly and placed you on one of the barock armchairs. He squatted down on the floor in front of you again, his hands resting on your hips. Your stomach tightened. What would come next? Wordlessly at first, he pointed to the bed behind him. "I used to fuck the whores in this room. At the very beginning of our... acquaintance. However, I soon got tired of doing it in bed with them. It was too romantic for me and it wasn't my thing at all with these women. After that, I was still here from time to time, on my own, to have a bit of peace and quiet from Giedi Prime, my uncle and all sorts of other things. I also came here a few times, after I met you at your home. To organize my thoughts and..." , a grin graced his face, though he fought it. "... and touched myself twice while I was thinking about you." You giggled and quickly put your hand over your mouth, hoping to stop then. But it didn't work. Feyd grinned wider, relieved that you took his words so calmly. "Twice?" , you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, my queen! Twice. I said no lies or secrets." , he clarified and his fingers unzipped your right boot.

His other hand pushed your other leg aside a little so that he had enough room to caress the inside of your thigh with kisses. His other hand slid higher, under your dress and his fingers quickly made their way through the fabric of your panties.

And immediately he felt the ease with which his fingers slid through your labia, as you were already so aroused. Again so quickly? Or was it still from the kissing you two had started in your chambers? Or had you been all day long? Since you both knew by now anyway that you couldn't keep your hands off each other today. Feyd didn't really care about the answer, he'd be satisfied with anything. He quickly lifted you up in his arms to lay your body on the bed. The mattress wasn't quite as soft as yours or Feyds, but still more comfortable than expected. He pulled your boots off your ankles, removed his top from his body and let it fall to the floor as he leaned over you, grumbling, to continue kissing you. He felt your soft, warm hands stroking his chest and stomach muscles, making him sigh with pleasure. You were irritated that the paint was still on his body. Didn't it wash off as soon as it dried on his skin, after he took a shower?

His fingers slipped under your mid-dress again and you suddenly heard seams ripping. "What are-" He was already holding your bottom piece of underwear in his hand. "Don't wear that. Only whores wear clothes like this, I don't like it!" He then threw the fabric into the other corner of the room. You briefly looked at the dried blood on his upper body before your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him back down to you. With quick grips, without hurting you, he had removed the dress from your skin. Your bra came off just as quickly and found its way to the floor. One of his hands found its way back between your labia to feel again how aroused you were. His wet fingers slowly slid over your pearl to tease you. You had to pull away from his lips to catch your breath. Feyd knew exactly how to play 'the woman's instrument'. His thumb, wet with your nectar, circled your pearl with perfect pressure. His other fingers massaged your entrance, but did not slide in. But, he would like to try today. Something told him that today might be a good time. At least for a try.

His lips, teeth and tongue slid over your breasts, down your stomach. "We have plenty of time now." , he murmured deeply, almost menacingly, without looking up. He felt your rapid breathing on his lips and your twitching muscles on his fingers. He didn't necessarily expect an answer from you. At least not a literal one. His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. Occasionally harder, until a soft "Ouch." could be heard. But you didn't say anything else. You even giggled briefly. He kissed the reddened area before he placed his lips on your pearl. He purred muffled as he spread kisses over your labia. Feyd tasted what was probably his new drug on his tongue as he caressed your most private area with it. Your deep breaths were music to his ears. His hands had a firm grip on you again. Not to make you run away, but to show dominance. To show that it was him who was giving you these pleasurable feelings. He even tasted a little rest of blood on you, which he had smeared on you after killing the pet.

 His fingers gripped you even tighter as he realized how much he desired you. That he had killed for you today and in the next few days, maybe hours (as he was thinking), he would hunt down the other two whores. And to give you their hearts. He wasn't sure how else to express his feelings for you yet. In more, his love bites or kisses that would adorn your skin, or trying to spend as much time with you as possible. Be it more training, a short conversation or more lovemaking. Even if he was more in the mood for the latter today. But obviously so did you. He had made it clear from the start that saying no was no problem for him.

Your body jerked violently as he bit into your pearl. "Don't do that." , you weakly uttered. "Why?" , he rumbled deeply between tongue-licks. "It... is too much." He bit again. "Feyd!" , you said, but unfortunately much less seriously than you intended. He only needed one hand to push you back into the mattress as you raised your upper body. "Down, Queen!" , he growled. His hand stayed on your stomach to make sure you didn't make any wrong moves. Unexpectedly for him, you placed your hand on his. However, the Harkonnen switched so that his hand was over yours and he interlace his fingers with yours. His other hand first stroked your thigh, then moved to your labia to extend the stimulation. He paid attention to your every breath and your soft, shy moans. How your free hand clawed into the bedclothes.

He loved how he could excite you after your start here on Giedi Prime had been rather sobering. Because of him. The Na-Baron stroked your nectar-covered labia with two fingers again as he whispered, "Can I try something, my Baroness?" Your half-closed eyes opened and he felt your hand tense under his. "No, stay calm!" , he said and rose to cover your collarbone and throat with kisses, his hand still holding yours. He felt your breathing calm down. "If you can't stand it, that's fine." , he explained in a calm voice. But he was surprised when your other hand placed on his shoulder and pushed him back down. "Don't say what exactly! But try." You didn't see him grin briefly. However, he discarded his original idea of stimulating you with his fingers as he kissed your mound of Venus. The smell of pure femininity was driving him crazy. Another kiss before he penetrated your inside with his tongue. You gasped in shock, but your fiancé didn't hear a 'no' or a 'stop'. For him, it meant that you were granting him. Good.

Still, he watched your every move for any warning signs. Harming you now would be bad for him and his plans.

Your muscles twitched around his organ, but it didn't feel like you were tensing up uncomfortably. He could have continued the game forever, but you asked him to come back up. Quite reluctantly, the Harkonnen obeyed you, kissing your lower lips one last time and tracing a wet trail with his tongue up to your breasts. Your legs wrapped around his hips and he knew what you wanted. "Are you lying cozy?" , he murmured. An "Uh-huh." , was the only thing you were capable of. One of Feyd's hands squeezed between the mattress and your body, roughly at your tailbone, to get a grip on you. He watched you close your eyes and tilt your head back. A slight smile graced your lips. He quickly had his cock out of his pants and your nectar immediately wet his sex organ as he slide it over yours. You both sucked in the air sharply. Even though you knew what your lovemaking-game would be like, at least for the next few days or weeks, you both savored every moment.

Feyd rested his head on the soft pillow next to your neck. His eyes half closed in relaxation. He moved his hips slowly and felt every millimeter of your pearl as his tip touched it. "Fuck." , he rumbled hoarse. His hand reached across your body to grab yours. He grabbed, your now warm hands, intertwined his fingers with yours and placed them on the other side of your head. He kissed your jawline, not feeling the need to bite you at that moment. No, he wanted to be as gentle as possible. Your hand patted his rib, you wanted him right on top of you.

When he understood and moved, you bit him hard in the pectoral muscle. Feyds sound was a mix between a groan and a grunt and he realized he was bleeding as his warm fluid immediately ran down his chest and dripped onto your body. He tried to position himself a little more upright, but your teeth wouldn't let go. They were deep in his flesh. "Devil!", he growled breathlessly. You could feel the warm liquid running down your chin, tickled the skin on your throat. Did it taste sweet? Was that what he tasted when he bit you? Your hand pulled out of his and gripped his wrist firmly as a sign for him to be quiet. You felt him press a kiss to your soft hair. He wanted you to break away from him. He wanted to taste his own blood.

And at that moment, you pressed your hands against his body with all your strength to have him lying on his back. But his much stronger hands pushed you up again, to bite you now. Not as hard as you, but it pleased him as your metallic sweet blood coated his tongue. He bit the inside of one of your breasts. "Copycat!" , came from you and Feyd paused for a second before pushing you back down. His lips kissed yours and he growled to you to lift your hip. Your legs wrapped around his hips again and you felt his cock against your flower-rose again. It wasn't long before you both climaxed and Feyd gave you another orgasm. Your bodies smeared with your both blood.

 

 -

"One more thing. I didn't touch myself when you were already here. Not even in the first week." , he explained when things had calmed down again and the two of you were lying entwined on the bed. "Okay, enough honesty for today." , you said and snuggled closer to him. He reached for the duvet and covered your body with it. You smiled contentedly. You felt his warm hand on your back again, slowly stroking up and down your spine.

You often wondered how someone like him, a feared warrior and adversary, could practice such gentle touches. He had told you that he had only ever experienced violence before you. That you had been the first person to caress him with your slender fingers and had given him a swift kiss when you had said 'good night'. When you had touched him gently, he had avoided your movements for the first few days, sometimes flinching at the unknown. But then he allowed it. It had just been strange and unfamiliar. So different. So new. So pleasant.

Did he like your touch and he returned the same gentleness, or at least similar, because of it? Because you had not yet spoken the three magic words for others. Neither he nor you. But perhaps it was still too early for that. Maybe it was your gestures and actions that expressed your feelings for each other? Not even necessarily the sexual activity. But the fact that he held your hand, that he marked you with, what he called, his love bites. That he purred in your presence and showed that he was relaxed. That he had given you a heart of flesh and blood today - that he killed for you. That he was lying next to you here and now, even though he could be doing completely different things. Gifted you with caresses and was also someone who allowed physical contact after the act had been completed. You had experienced other things yourself and had heard from former female acquaintances.

"What are you thinking about again, (y/n)?" , you heard him say unexpectedly. How did he know your brain was going crazy again? "Hm?" , you said, thinking that maybe you didn't have to answer. "You breathe a little faster when you're thinking hard. I've noticed that in the last few weeks." , he explained to you. You were shocked, but also pleasantly surprised at how much he was studying you. A sign that he was probably really interested in yourself and your bodylanguage. Of course, he also studied his enemies, but Feyd seemed to be observing you closely. Unconsciously for you. How your reactions and emotions were. How your body reacted and what you said. No matter what mood you were in. It was as if he was trying to find the right puzzle piece for everything. And when this puzzle would eventually be complete, he would probably know you inside out. Or would it ever be complete? Maybe this meant a lot more to him than three (trivial) words. Did he perhaps also need this to assess danger? To assess how and when you would attack? Or to know when something would be too much for you?

"So?" , you heard him say again. "Us." , you replied. And at the same moment you thought 'Fuck'! Why had you told the truth? Feyd pulled you away from him a little so he could look at you. "What do you mean?" , he asked, irritated but serious. His voice was quiet, probably because he was a little tired after the act. "About the future?" , he asked another question. "No, it's..." , you had to think, you didn't know how to express yourself. "Hm?" , he said, briskly stroking your jawline with one finger. "... I don't know. Everything?" "Everything?" he asked, furrowing his brow slightly and smiling uncertainly. You didn't know how to explain it. And he could tell. The strain in your eyes.

He cleared his throat and pulled you a little closer to him again. "Listen. Don't say anything now, we'll sort it out another time." , he spoke. It almost seemed as if he was uncomfortable with the situation himself. Your eyes fell on the black paint on his muscular torso again. "The paint will stay for a few days." , he now explained. "Does it bother you?" , he asked in a lower tone. "No, not at all." , you blurted out. "I like it very much." Feyds pleasant touch made you feel tired and he seemed to notice. "You can sleep. It's okay." , he whispered and pulled you even closer to him. You leaned your forehead against his chest, the warmth more than just comforting. "But don't go away. Please." , you whispered. "Why should I? , Feyd asked you. "You could be doing much more useful things right now than lying here with me," you spoke und swallowed. "You're insane!" , he said quietly, but harsh. Somehow it sounded like a 'swerve' to you. He knew very well that he could be doing something else right now. But he seemed to want to be here right now - with his Na-Baroness.

You felt his lips on your forehead again. It was a nice gesture on his part. You were silent, listening to each other's breathing. You'd always been a bit stubborn in your life, but you never thought you'd ever really break the rules. But you weren't alone in this. You both did it together 'to be together'. And you preferred that to sitting alone in your chambers, training separately from him or sitting in the library reading those boring books about Giedi Prime. You much rather heared these things explained to you by your fiancé. It was much easier to understand that way. Still, you wondered if your behavior, your breaking of the rules, would have consequences? Could the wedding even be canceled? Was his uncle only letting you now to separate you again? Was he perhaps already planning something? It's definitely possible.

You felt your heart ache at the thought. No, you didn't want to leave. You didn't want to leave Feyd. Out of reflex, you snuggled closer to him, wanting to feel the warmth of his body. That he was here now. By your side. When his hand stroked your back again, you couldn't win the battle against tiredness. "Don't go." , you whispered, barely audible, before you fell asleep.

 -

As you woke up, your eyes were directly on Feyd. He was sitting in one of the barock armchairs a few meters away from you. His neck was leaning so far back that you thought it might break. His eyes were only slightly open. His breathing was calm. He seemed to be deep in thoughts. You watched the play of muscles under his skin as he took a deeper breath. The black war paint, your X at the level of his heart. Your bite wound on the other side. The dried blood stuck to his skin and you could still see the traces of how it had run down. You still felt it on your lips and chin and also see it on Feyds mouth. And it didn't seem to bother the hell out of him that his own blood was on his body. That he had tasted his own blood.

'Fuck' , you thought again when you suddenly realized that his eyes were now on you. How long had you been watching him? How long had he been watching you? He grinned darkly, his eyes narrowing again into a slit. He was watching you like a predatory cat, knowing that you couldn't escape at that moment. You smirked sheepishly. "How long have I been asleep?" , you asked the Harkonnen, to distract from the situation. "Maybe twenty minutes." , he replied, his gaze not changing. He loved it when he caught you. He loved it when you were ashamed of it, yourself.

He stood up suddenly and walked slowly towards you. You looked up at him uncertainly, full of expectation and with wide eyes. You didn't dare to move. The only thing that didn't stop, was your breathing. He bent down to you in front of the bed, just looking at you for a few seconds before one of his hands stroked the duvet , tracing your figure underneath. He stopped at your exposed shoulder, surprised at the coolness of your skin. His hands were so warm, you thought. His fingers continued to stroke your neck, the bite mark fiery red. He smiled at his work, although he knew that the spot would cause you a little pain over the next few days. For him, however, it was absolutely worth it. Up your cheek, slightly down, his fingertips found themselves on your lips again.

You didn't know why, but you felt like he could kill you at any moment.

Apart from the fact that he could do it at any time anyway, since he was superior to you. But now, here you were, laying naked in bed, completely helpless. Not a good position to attack from.

He looked at his blood on your lips, how it had flowed down your neck and smeared from your collarbone. His grin suddenly disappeared, his gaze became gentle. He seemed almost wistful. His eyes didn't leave yours, his lips were slightly parted. He wanted to say it, but he didn't know how. Instead, he leaned forward, placing his lips gently and sensitively on yours. His actions almost wondered you, though it was not at all the first time he had done this. He gently took your face in your hands and placed himself back over you on the bed, without releasing you. His tongue begged for admission and you let him. His fingertips stroking down your neck, over your shoulders, made you shiver pleasantly. It tickled. You felt his tongue on your neck as he kissed his way down and licked at his own blood. "Feyd?" , you asked shyly. Inwardly, however, you were horrified that he seemed to be in the mood again. You wanted a break. "Trust me. You don't have to do anything." , he explained to you. And you decided to listen to his words - to trust him.

After a few minutes, you didn't know whether you might regret this decision. His tongue and teeth were all over your torso and arms. He seemed to deliberately avoid your lower region. His bites were sometimes gentle, sometimes firmer. But not hard enough to leave wounds or bleeding marks. His lips sucked at your flesh and you knew that tonight, or tomorrow at the latest, you would be covered in bluish and reddish hickeys. Feyd didn't say a word. He wanted to let his current actions do the talking. His hands gripped your waist. "Turn around." , he said and you obeyed. His lips brushed up your spine at the level of your shoulder blades to your neck. "Feyd, what are you doing?" , you asked him. He interrupted what he was doing. You could now feel his lips on your ear.

"Am I suddenly no longer allowed to touch my Baroness?" , he asked a counter-question and you felt his upper body rise. No, that's not what you meant. You wanted to turn around, but Feyd sat firmly on your tailbone and pressed his knees into the mattress to make himself heavier. You couldn't tell if he was just teasing you or if he was being serious. But you relaxed again when his firm grip on your waist loosened and the back of his hand stroked your spine. "Still not enough. Probably never." , he spoke as if in a trance. "What's not enough?" , you asked softly. "Love bites." , he replied as he exhaled. He stroked each of his marks and you shook again as it tickled too much. "It's almost silly that you only have one..." , you said. "... but I don't want to disfigure you." "Disfigure?" Feyd asked, pausing in his movement. "It would disfigure you! Not you me!" , you said quickly. Hoping to get out of the situation. You'd actually like to do more to him, especially after tasting his blood. But you were worried that others might see it. Especially when he was training.

Somehow it made you uncomfortable. But why? After all, others saw his marks on your skin too. "I don't really mind your... 'love bites'...." , you spoke and your hand reached for his, which he was holding propped up on the pillow. "... I just find it a little uncomfortable that it lets the others know we're already intimate. It's against the rules, against tradition." , you explained to him. He knew that. Of course he did. He had spoken to his uncle about it more than once in the last few days, and again today. Feyd layed to the side to look at you. "Who abides by that rule? Only those who don't find each other attractive." Feyd said with a grin.

Actually, you had always intended to stick to rules. Because you didn't know any other way. But with Feyd, you realized damn quickly that it would be very, very difficult. He let his eyes roam over your face, down your neck to your breasts. "It's your fault, Devil!" , came from him. "Only the devil could manage to bring a woman like you into my life and manipulate me!" "When do I manipulate you?" , you laughed nervously. "Almost all the time. Even when you're asleep!" Your slender fingers stroked his chest. You realized that you had bitten him really hard. Your teeth marks were deep in his muscle. "Then I'll give you more love bites like this one day, I promise!"

 

•

You had applied a dark red lipstick. The color immediately reminded Feyd of the blood that had been on your body just a few hours ago. He cleared his throat to shake off the thought. "Is that too much?" , you asked him, your index finger pointing at your lips. He looked at you questioningly for a moment, but then shook his head. "No, no. Looks good." , he replied, looking at the deep red colour. "But... I like your face better without it. The way you wake up in the morning." , he added. You shook your head gently, not wanting to believe him. You heard him get up and walk slowly towards you. In the mirror, you watched his movements as he stalked his prey like a big, again.

"Here." , he spoke, barely audible, and pulled his ring off his little finger. "Wear it tonight!" Feyd handed you the ring out again. A soft "Oh." escaped your lips and you put it back on your ring finger. One of his hands went carefully through your loose hair when he noticed that you had covered up his bite wound. His hand immediately tightened around the back of your neck. "I told you not to cover it up!" , he growled angrily. His eyes moved to your breasts, where his mark was also covered under make-up. His eyes looked angrily into yours. His grip on your neck tightened until you contorted your face painfully. "Feyd, you know I'm doing this because of your uncle!" , you told him, hoping his grip would loosen, but it didn't.

The Harkonnen in front of you stepped even closer to you and hissed at you what his uncle had to interest you in this regard. "What if he sends me away?" , you asked, still in pain. "He won't send you away 'just' because of our intimacy! Are you afraid of looking like a whore or what? I've never bitten them! Everyone here will know those bites are mine when you show them!" , his voice murmured and his grip loosened slightly. You nodded shy, but didn't say a word. Still in shock of his action. Feyd saw the uncertainty in your eyes and immediately let go of your neck. He cleared his throat, he hadn't meant to touch you like that. "Apologize, (y/n)." , escaped his lips very weakly. "However..." , he spoke now and reached for your make-up remover wipes. "... I want it off." His hand grabbed the back of your neck again, but much more gently. You felt the cool cloth remove the make-up. It slid down to your breasts, where he also removed the make-up. "Tsk." , he snarled.

"You know, once you're Baroness, it won't just be a few bites." , he said, a slight smile gracing his face. "You call that 'a few bites'?" , you asked, confused. Even a little shy. "You'll be covered with my teeth marks completely, I promise." , he murmured, leaning down to gently kiss the bite on your breast. You exhaled audibly, your hand wrapped around the back of his neck and your cheek rested on his skull. For a brief moment, you close your eyes and enjoy his now gentle touch. But you pulled away from him and looked at yourself in the mirror again. "I'm not sure about the jumpsuit, because I already wore it this morning..." , you mumbled to yourself. "Don't worry so much." Feyd said to you. You continued to hesitate. "Please give me another five minutes." , you told him politely and walked quickly towards your closet, while Feyd sat down on your large, comfortable barock armchair and continued to watch you. He didn't feel like saying anything.

"I'm not really a fan of dresses, but I have two or three that might look good. I have a red one, made of velvet." , you explained to him. He raised his eyebrows in interest. "Like the wrapping on your gift today?" , he grinned. You looked at him briefly over your shoulder, then at the box on your bedside table, which someone had placed there while you had been away. "Don't forget to open yours later." , you smiled at him. "I won't." , he replied as you turned back to your clothes. Without saying a word, you pulled out the dress and looked at it thoughtfully. An "Ohh." came from Feyd and he stood up expectantly and walked towards you. His fingers briefly felt the soft fabric. The length went all the way down to your leg-calf (with two slits at the sides), with a V-neck at the front like your jumpsuit and a deep neckline in the same shape at the back. The sleeves were long and tight-fitting. "Can I wear this or is it too-" "Put it on." , he interrupted you. He was sure it would suit you. There was a knock on the door. Again.

Feyd walked up to it and opened it. "Na-Baron Feyd-" "What is it?" , he asked, annoyed, as you disappeared into the bathroom to change clothes. "The guests have asked for you when-" "I can be there whenever I want. I'm not even forced to attend my own celebrations." , he replied angry. His counterpart was unsure how to answer him. But Feyd now asked how he knew that he had been in your chambers and not his. He was told that he had knocked there, but no one had opened the door. So perhaps he could have been with the Na-Baroness. Feyd nodded understandingly. "Not a word to the Baron about this, do you understand?" , he growled madly and his counterpart replied in the affirmative. Then he closed the door, totally annoyed by the guests and his uncle.

When he turned around, you were already standing in front of the mirror in your dress. Feyd grinned darkly when he saw that it showed off his bite wounds on your back. "Wear that! It looks fucking beautiful on you!" , he murmured, but deliberately kept his distance from you and leaned against the door. Yes, he was good at showing you off. "And don't talk back, forget what others might think about you! They should be more worried about what you might think of them, future Baroness!" He looked at your silver necklace again as you approached him. You had reapplied your perfume, he sniffed. He liked that scent on you. Feyd took one look at you from top to bottom and one corner of his mouth lifted as if by magic. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't do anything about it. "Let's go, Na-Baroness." , he purred, took your slim hand and walked out of the door with you.

•

His arm was firmly around your waist throughout. But you could tell that Feyd had little appetite for the event. You had been here for about an hour and you had exchanged a few words with more Harkonnen than he had. They really seemed to have respect for you, which relieved you greatly. Your fiancé put your hair aside in between, so the other men could see his mark on your neck whenever they looked at you for too long. You didn't miss his behavior, but you didn't want to say anything about it now. Feyds eyes kept returning to his uncle, who was also watching you both. You were partly uncomfortable being watched by him after he had said those words about you. "He said everything is fine here. We're allowed to spend time together here, so let's do it." You heard Feyds voice. His grip briefly loosened from your waist to take your hand and place a pleasant kiss on your knuckles. "Let him be upset, it won't change anything." , he continued.

But he paused when his eyes suddenly caught sight of his two, still living, pets. "Who invited them?" , he growled softly, glaring at the ladies. Your hand still in his, his grip now tighter with anger. You looked over at them, they had also put on nice clothes and were holding a glass of champagne or something similar. Their eyes watched your every move. "Let's get out of here!" Feyd growled angrily as he wondered if this was a bad move on his uncles part. Had he already realized that he had murdered a lady? "No, it's not that bad." , you tried to reassure him. "Don't let those women spoil your birthday, hm." , you smiled and gently pulled him back to you. "I don't want them here!" , he spoke angrily. "Ignore them." , you whispered reassuringly and stroked his arm. You put your head on his shoulder, hoping it might relax him a little.

But you noticed how his muscles suddenly tensed up completely. You looked up at him in amazement and waited for a reaction. You followed his gaze and spotted Vladimir again, his look so disgusted by you that it startled you. What was his problem?

Your eyes wandered back to your fiancé and his gaze was so hateful, like he was about to slaughter everyone in the room. "Feyd, come with me." , you said and gently pulled him outside. When you were alone in a corridor, you stood in front of him and unclasped his wrist. "Feyd, what did the Baron say today when I left?" , you asked him. You could hear the concern in your voice. The man you spoke to only looked at you for a few seconds. His eyes flicked over yours thoughtfully. He was trying to concoct a believable lie in his head. "What do you mean?" , he asked, trying to buy time. "You know exactly what I mean!" , you answered him. Calmly, but firmly. "I realize that you and him don't have a good relationship. But you've never looked at him it the way you just did. At least not in my presence." , you explained.

Your arms crossed in front of your chest, avoiding his eyes for fear of his answer. You felt uncomfortable in the presence of his uncle. "Listen..." , he started after all. He didn't want to lie at that moment. The truth would come out eventually anyway. He would keep his answer short but direct. "... he is of the opinion that women have nothing to say. Not even a Baroness. She's really almost only there to provide a successor. But-" , he paused for a moment as he looked at your startled face. "But I don't think so. I've thought like him all these years, but not since I met you. I want you to be in charge with me once he dies. I want more from you than just getting you pregnant. I want you by my side as my baroness. And I already knew that when I spent the three days at your home. And that's why I came back here in the morning. To organize my thoughts and-" Feyd interrupted himself when you suddenly hugged him.

Feyd stood still at your sudden action, before he also put his arms around your body. One hand slowly stroked your bare back, feeling your spine. But he stopped moving again when you spoke up. "I was so scared when I was told that a Harkonnen could be my future husband. I was so scared when I heard your name. I was scared when you stood infront of me for the first time and I somehow had to exchange words with you. Even though my people were once allies of the Harkonnen. But that was so, so long ago." You felt him laugh briefly. Oh yes, he had known that you had been afraid of him. It had almost been funny, the way you had tried to hide it. Funny for him, in a dark way.

"And yet I quickly preferred you to... my other husband option." , you continued. Feyd hadn't known this, but because of his ego, he had been pretty sure that you would choose him. Even though that decision was also in his hands. What a 'coincidence' that you had chosen each other. "I treated you badly the first week you arrived here, I know. It's because my uncle kept trying to convince me that a Baroness isn't worth anything. And I didn't know what to do at first. But then I decided against his words! That's why he doesn't want us to see each other so often, and you know this!" With every word he said, his voice became more serious and angry. It seemed that Vladimir Harkonnens death was the only solution. Feyd would certainly not find this difficult, quite the opposite.

If you were lucky, you'd spend half a day together once or twice a week. Or a few secret minutes, when the time of day didn't matter at all. Mostly the nights, even if you only slept tightly together. And you just realized that today, after about a month, you spent a whole day with your fiancé here on Giedi Prime for the first time. And that was 'only' because it was his birthday and his uncle was probably turning a blind eye today. Normality would return tomorrow.

You might watch him train for a while, or just bump into him a few times in the corridors. You wouldn't talk to each other then, the risk of Vladimir finding out was too great. Most of the time, Feyd would stroke your arm or press a kiss to your lips, cheek or forehead as you walked past. Sometimes he ended his training early to check on you in your chambers. To give you at least a quick hug, to feel you somehow. If only for a minute. All this was supposed to change after the wedding, but just a few days ago you had talked about the fact that this might not be the case. As long as his uncle was in power, he could decide. Feyd had asked you more than once last evening to sleep with him in his bed that night.

But since you thought that the Baron would expect it anyway, because of Feyds birthday, you had given in and agreed. You had slept in Feyds bed more often than your own in the last few nights, but you were still worried that Vladimir would find out. And Feyd knew it. You probably wouldn't say it, but you had respect for the Baron. In an uncomfortable way.

Actually, your relationship was okay, he didn't insult you or anything like that. At least not in words. You had had the feeling from the start that he didn't like you somewhere. But you couldn't explain why this was the case. Then why had he considered you as a wife for his nephew? Because of your people's past?

You broke away from Feyd and the Harkonnen looked at you questioningly. You were almost dizzy from all the confusing thoughts. So many questions and no answers (yet?).

"Let's go back inside. Before they realize I stole you from your own celebration." , you smiled, trying to look more cheerful again. He felt your hand take his and he intertwined his fingers with yours. "We'll stay for another hour or so, all right? And then you'll get your gift first! I'm almost afraid I'll forget to give it to you." He pressed a kiss to your temple without words as you re-entered the great hall. "Something to drink?" A lady in front of you suddenly asked, holding a tray with various drinks in her hands. You reached for a water with ice cubes, Feyd opted for a slightly alcoholic drink. "Pregnant, Na-Boroness?" Your counterpart asked with a joyful smile. You swallowed yourself immediately and Feyd struggled to stifle a grin. "No, no." You explained, still coughing slightly. "Not yet." , he added, squeezing your hand briefly. "I think the offspring will be beautiful when the time comes. Na-Baron, Na-Baroness." , she said as goodbye. You were still a little perplexed. Was it just a nice joke because of your drink? Or did she think you were already intimate, even before the wedding? Or did she even _know_ because of your bite wounds. Yes, you knew exactly why you wanted to cover them up earlier!

"Do I look pregnant?" , you asked the Harkonnen next to you. He thought the question was a joke at first, but he immediately realized from the look on your face that you were serious. "Have I put on weight?" , you continued to ask. "No, (y/n). To be honest, I even have the feeling that you've lost some weight." Feyd explained to you. He quickly pulled you to a snack bar and took a chocolate between his fingers. "Here, I'm sure you'll like this." You tried to take the chocolate from his hand, but he pulled it back. Shaking your head but grinning, you opened your mouth and he put the sweet chocolate on your tongue. Yes, it tasted good and you grabbed two more. "You haven't anything at all today!" , he spoke rather sternly. You shook your head. You hadn't felt hungry at all from all the feelings. "But neither have you." , you replied. Feyd grinned again as you put the second chocolate between your teeth. "You seem to have forgotten. But I had a good breakfast and enjoyed some snacks in between." You stopped chewing and looked at him with wide eyes. You didn't know whether the praline melted on your tongue because of your saliva or because of the heat that shot into your head at that moment. Satisfied, Feyd reached for a chocolate for himself. "No. Sweet, but not as sweet as your nectar." Completely perplexed and ashamed, you stepped away from him. He looked after you for a moment, confused, knowing that he had left you speechless again. And he was proud to see your flushed face.

He watched as you stepped out onto the large balcony. Another Harkonnen also watched your movements, then looked questioningly at Feyd. A buddy of his. He walked up to the Na-Baron and asked what was wrong with you. "Everything's fine. Literally!" , the Na-Baron winked and greeted him with a friendly handshake. "Are you sure? Your fiancée just had a very red head. Did something happen?" "Happened? Oh, a lot happened today. And it's not the first time she blushed today either." His buddy grinned understandingly. "Do you two get on well? She makes a rather quiet impression." , he pointed out.

Feyd thought about how to answer the question for a moment and looked at you standing on the balcony, gazing into the night. "She's a warrior. She knows how to handle knives and swords. And she knows how to defend herself without weapons. Thankfully, she's not a spoiled little princess like my other choice. She may have a quiet character, but she's got a damn dark inside. Just what I need. Just what Giedi Prime needs... don't underestimate her." , warned the Na-Baron.

Yes, a warning.

No one should offend you! He didn't even stop at the few friends he had. And he noticed it in Feyd's suddenly gloomy look. His eyes narrowed into a slit. "What do you think of me, Feyd?" he asked sternly. "I haven't forgotten that you once asked me if you could borrow my whores. If you look at the Na-Baroness once, even for a second, with certain eyes, I will throw your head at her feet." Feyd growled.

What was wrong with him today? He hadn't felt this emotional for a long time. No matter what emotional state. And he didn't know whether this was good or bad. The only thing he knew was that you triggered feelings and emotions in him that he had never felt before. It was affection and well-being, but also a kind of anger and hatred. He liked holding you in his arms or lying on your chest himself. Your gentle touches, like the kiss on his shoulder this morning. Something he had never thought about before, because he didn't know that these feelings even existed. He had always thought that something like 'love' was an extremely stupid fantasy. Stupid talk from weak people. But ever since he knew you, something happened inside him. Especially today. And he was almost certain that it wasn't just because he had touched you sexually several times today.

"What did she gift you?" , his counterpart asked him. Feyd cleared his throat once to push his thoughts aside. "She'll give it to me later. If you mean something material." Feyd spoke casually, rather uninterestedly. Gifts were irrelevant to him. "Material?" , his buddy asked. Feyd grinned perversely at him. "She has good body." Was his reply. Understanding punched him in the shoulder. "So that's where her reddish spots on her back come from?" "Not just there." Both men looked at you again briefly. "Is she good?" , echoed in Feyd's ears. "She... she's reserved. But I can understand why. After all, strictly speaking, we shouldn't even be intimate yet. But that doesn't bother us." he explained with dignity. "What, she's not blowing you or what?" , the other asked in astonishment. Feyd shook his head emotionlessly. "No, not yet." , came out of his mouth just as emotionlessly. "Then she's boring." His, now presumably soon-to-be-former buddy Farris laughed, as Feyd growled menacingly at him."I said the reasons are understandable! Didn't you listen to me?"

 If looks could kill.

"She was ra- get out, get out!" Feyd corrected himself. "But! You can have the two whores, the pets." , he hissed, pointing at the ladies on the other side of the hall. "I don't need them anymore." "Why?" , he asked, visibly irritated. "I have a fiancée now... that's nothing new, really." Did he really have to explain? "So what? Does it make a difference?" Feyds eyes pierced him. The anger in them clearly visible. "I want to be loyal. After all, this woman is going to give birth to my child!" he growled between his black-stained teeth. The other man raised his hands in appeasement. "What about the other one? The third one?" Feyds angry expression changed. He smiled slightly. "I killed her today." , he answered the question. "I just felt like doing it." He added. "So suddenly?" Farris asked. Feyd actually had to think about it for a moment. Had he really only intended to do it today, or had he felt like it before, but unconsciously? "I don't know." , he answered honestly. "But it had to happen today. Just be glad that the two of them were able to escape. You can claim their bodies now, for a few days. After that, I'll kill them!" , he growled. "Now, go!" Baffled, he left the party. Picking a fight with the Na-Baron here and now would only make him a murder victim himself.

Shaking his head, Feyd also stepped onto the balcony, enjoying the cool air that caressed him. "My baroness." , he greeted you and his hand came to your lips to give you another chocolate. "Yes, if this keeps up, I'm going to look pregnant." , you laughed and let the chocolate melt on your tongue. His blue eyes scrutinized you from top to bottom. 'Maybe I don't mind, that' he thought. His hand rose and his fingers stroked your back again. His bites and hickeys on display. Oh yes, the guests knew you were his property. Even now, before the wedding. The pleasant scent of your perfume reached his nose and he placed his lips on your neck. "You're... very affectionate today, Na-Baron." "Ah, and now in the evening, is that a problem, Na-Baroness (y/n) (y/l/n)?" , he growled back.

"No. Not at all, actually." he heard you whisper. His eyes looked up at you and he thought he could feel your pulse as he reached for your wrist. He kissed your neck again, directly on your wound. You wouldn't have admitted it at that moment, but the wound was actually starting to hurt a little. Especially when you turned your head. Maybe it had been better to have removed the make-up after all. "But your blood tastes like dark chocolate." , he purred against your ear. Laughing for a moment, you freed yourself from his grip. What a bad charmer. "The candy made me hungry, I'm going to get something." Feyd let you pass, a slight smile still gracing his lips. He licked it, taking in the slightly metallic taste.

But his reasonably good mood evaporated when his now, still unknowingly, re-given Pets entered the balcony and stood next to him. "What do you want?" , he asked, annoyed. "I think I've made it clear enough to you today that I no longer require 'your services'." Before one of them could answer, he said: "I 'handed you over', by the way. Maybe five minutes ago. To my buddy Farris. He wanted to borrow you once before, but I said no." he explained, as if he were talking about the weather. "What? Why didn't you say no now?" one of them asked angrily. Feyd couldn't believe his ears and looked directly at the two ladies.

His eyes fell on the glasses in their hands. "How many glasses did you have tonight? Are you trying to forget what happened this morning? Or do you not even realize that there are only two of you now?" It almost hurt Feyd to say these words. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to such stupid creatures. "Maybe you'd be quiet now if I'd fucked the other one in the wound while she was still alive and fondled the Na-Baroness's pussy! Killing her in front of you and ripping her open, it seems like, wasn't enough!"

Just then you stepped back onto the balcony, your plate filled with some sauces and dough-pieces. Your eyebrows immediately drew together and your eyes wandered between him and them. Waiting for an explanation. "Bacause of her." Feyd said, pointing his finger briefly at you. He took the small knife from your plate and pointed it at the two female Harkonnen. "I don't need a big and pointy weapon to take your lives now. I wouldn't even need the knife here. It would be just as easy to rip your arms out with my bare hands." he continued, always in a monotone. "But I don't feel like causing a bloodbath now. Bon appétit, ma chère." , he said as he put the knife back on your plate.

"And now fuck off! I've kicked Farris out too. You're welcome to keep him company." Feyds smile was not amused. It was full of mockery. And disappeared as soon as the two pets left the balcony. You snorted angrily and took your first bite. "Should I have broken their arms or ripped them out now?" Feyd asked you. A little disappointed by your reaction. "No, their heads!" you growled with your mouth full. Feyd watched you for a moment, remembering what he had just said to his buddy. 'A bloody dark inside'! His eyes fell on your dark red lips, remembering how you'd bitten his pectoral muscle so hard today that it had started to bleed. "Do you like it?" he asked, with the irony in his head. You nodded. "Very much. I'll get something else in a minute. It's good to eat something now." You took another bite. A light breeze blew, making your hair move a little in the air. "Let me know if it's too cold." , he stated. "Not so far, all good. It's actually quite pleasant." You leaned your head against his shoulder again as a loving gesture. But you immediately stood up straight when you saw how many people were watching you through the glass. You stopped chewing in shock. Some smiled, others looked at you with interest. You were a little relieved that no one was giving you a dirty look. Or maybe you just couldn't spot anyone. "What is it?" Feyd asked, amused. "There were a lot more Harkonnen looking at you this morning. And... you looked more interesting then. Nothing against your current outfit." "I look more interesting in sweatpants and with my hair unkempt just because I wasn't wearing anything on top?" , you asked with a confused look. "For me, yes!" , he teased you. You hastily finish the last bite on your plate to distract yourself somehow.

The Harkonnen realized that he should actually change the subject. "Do you want to go swimming later?" he asked you as you gulped down your food. "Swimming? Here?" Your eyebrows went up and you looked at him again. "Mhh, a thermal." "Oh, wow. What haven't you shown me yet?" , you asked a counter question. "There are still a few things." , he pondered. "I don't have a bikini or swimsuit yet." Feyd remained conspicuously silent. When you looked up at him again, you saw another perverse grin. "Am I supposed to be in under- Oh!" you whispered, understanding. Feyd nodded mutely. "No... no, I can't do that." "Why can't you do that, Na-Baroness?" you stammered. Feyd asked, tilting his head. "I got some clothes from the chambermaids a few days ago. Maybe there's something suitable in there, I haven't even looked at the clothes yet." you said, thinking about it. "Well, then let's relax in the hot water later." , he said firmly as fireworks sounded again and the area turned a soft turquoise and blue.

-

A little later, you went back inside because it was getting too chilly for you. It was nice and warm inside. You had settled down on one of several large black leather couches. You both didn't feel like sitting at the table. The guests should have realized by now that you two really liked each other. Feyd wasn't afraid to touch you or kiss you anywhere. One of his hands was always somewhere on your body. You were only aware of three people who had a problem with this. His uncle and the whores. And you were both sure that it wouldn't change with any of them. You had first sat down next to Feyd, but he had immediately pulled you onto his lap. This made you a little taller and his head leaned on your cleavage. Your calm breathing relaxed him and even made him a little tired for a moment. But he hadn't forgotten that he still wanted to go to the thermal with you. Your fingers stroked his neck and he enjoyed the gentle touch.

You observed the many guests who were spread around the room and everyone was talking to everyone else. "You know what?" , he interrupted your silence. "What?" , you asked with interest. "All the ones you see here. All the ones you saw in the arena - they'll do as you say." , he began to explain. "You can order them to do what you want, they'll do it for you. Maybe question something and ask you if you're really sure of your opinion. But if you say yes, they will follow your request, my Baroness." He felt your fingers stop stroking him. You looked at all the guests, let your eyes wandering through the hall. You remembered the Harkonnen crowd from the morning. You realized, almost unpleasantly, that you liked Feyd's words. You would, with him, be in charge. You smiled darkly. Feyd noticed your reaction and pulled your head down to kiss you. "Maybe you'll dream about killing my uncle tonight. You can tell me about it tomorrow." , he joked darkly. "Tomorrow?" , you asked and the smile disappeared from your face. "Ah fuck..." , he mumbled. "I'll... I'll arrange something. We usually manage that. Most of the time. Sometimes." The Na-Baron looked at his uncle. The hatred for him was growing stronger by the day.

Especially since you've been here. He destroyed your alliance. Alliance? How could an alliance be formed if you could only see each other every two days or three? Mostly for a few minutes. Secretly.

You heard him growl. And it wasn't the kind you heard when you were intimate. It was an angry, hateful one. "Shhh. Stay calm, my Baron." , you whispered, trying to calm him down. "He's destroying everything! I should have let you kill him when the guards no longer had you in their grasp!" , he bared between his dark teeth. "I didn't have a weapon." , you decided, taking part in his words. "You could have rammed his smoking pipe down his throat or into his skull!" , growled your fiancé. "Hmm..." , you thought about it and looked briefly at his uncle. The back of your hand caressed Feyd's cheek and he took it to hold yours in his hand, feeling his ring on your finger. Your hands were quite cold, as they always were. He had wondered early on whether there might be a health problem behind it. "... Then I'll try to dream about it, my future husband." , he heard your voice. “Let’s get rid of all the creatures that stand in our way!” Feyd spoke as if he were in a trance, but his tone was aggressive. “But now...” , he began, pushing you from his lap. “...Let’s go swimming, relax at the thermal!” As soon as he uttered the words, he was on his feet, pulling you by the wrist behind him. You said only fleetingly goodbye to the guests you, but rather Feyd, knew. Some of them you didn't know, but you were sure it would change.

You noticed Feyd turning around in between. "What's going on? Is someone following us?" "No. But it wouldn't be untypical for my uncle to have a spy sent for us," , he explained. "Especially since he knows we've spent a lot more time together today than we're actually allowed to," , you added with a sigh. "Don't think about him. Not today, not now!" Feyd spoke as you both arrived outside your chambers. "I'll pick you up in ten minutes," , he added. "But I hope you don't have a swimsuit." You wanted to punch him playfully, but you didn't. Fiancé or no fiancé. He was still the Na-Baron. Instead, you rolled your eyes grinning nastily and closed the door behind you. You didn't know Feyd was standing on the other side for a few more seconds, breathing in the last whiff of your perfume.

⬇️ ⬇️ ⬇️

I'm currently thinking about you both actually killing the Baron. On Arrakis? Personally, I was almost surprised in the cinema that Feyd didn't stab him or slit his throat when Vladimir was lying on the floor. Do you want me to change that?

And yes, he deliberately hasn't told you about Arrakis yet. (And he said „no lies“ bla bla…)

Also, I would love to give you some Harkonnen (girl)friends. I have the feeling that the Reader is pretty lonely without Feyd. Would you be okay with that?

What happens in the next chapter:

Probably petting in the thermal & you biting him until he bleeds again, talking about marriage and having a child, inferior Feyd to you (he talks about feelings), very soft intimacy (no bloody bites at this time, him being super slow, to savor the moment), he will tell you in his mother-language that he has feelings for you (thanks to @belovedbastardremus 🖤), thunderstorm and rain in the background, death of his two pets (described - blood & gore! + wound fucking & sexuell touch on you - blood on you both again), obsessed Feyd (unhealthy), probably stalking, disagreements between you (you will use his words "no lies or secrets" against him - because you know more about him as he thought), you will cry, Feyd also briefly(!), his uncle will be very shitty to you both... 🤫

(⬆️ Order not completely correct, I have to write the chapter first...)

\ 🖤 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 🖤 /

Thanks for reblogging. ❦

#feyd rautha dune #dune part two #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2 #dune part 2 #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #austin butler #austin butler x reader #dark romance #giedi prime #dune 2024 #vladimir harkonnen #love bites #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen smut

[lady-phasma]

Playthings

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x his Harpies

One shot but please let me know if I should continue this... I want to but not sure of the direction. Appx. 450 words

Warning: 18+, NSFW, Feyd

Summary: Takes place before the events of Dune 2. Not for everyone. Mostly smut

gif by me

Black eyes gleamed in the dim light, like pools of oil. The Harpies moved with no urgency. They had been fed and were languid. For now. Their naked, pale skin blended together. It was difficult to tell where one ended and another began. Feyd slid between two of them. His naked chest almost as flat-white as their skin. His eyes were heavy-lidded and lustful.

“Mmmmm,” he sounded satisfied through his closed lips. He moved a hand up the thigh of one Harpy as she slid her leg over his belly. He cupped the cheek of another as she gazed down at him. Her black teeth glinted as they caught the light. She smoothed her hand over his head and grazed her nails down his cheek. Her eyes held a look that to any outsider might be misunderstood. Feyd saw adoration, worship. He grinned back at her as he leaned up to kiss her.

It was a slow, intimate kiss at first, then escalated abruptly. The Harpy clawed at his neck. She slid herself on top of him, straddling him, pushing the other off him. That one mewled but moved out of the way obediently. The third writhed in the sudden movement, disturbed. She inched closer to Feyd. Without speaking, he raised his head and she lay sideways beneath him, her belly a pillow for his head.

Feyd’s hands gripped the Harpy’s hips as she slowly rutted against his abdomen. His eyes gleamed, almost intoxicated. Their worship made him feel the way a fight could, high on power. He let the Harpy rub and slide on him. She bent down to lick his chest, over his nipples. Then she pushed herself against his pants and whined. An animalistic sound mixed with human desperation. He had not pleased her. She wanted more.

“Not now, my darling,” he said, gravel and malice in his voice. He slowly reached up and stroked and teased a breast of the Harpy behind him. She gave a satisfied moan and wiggled underneath his head.

The woman who had been so rudely displaced by her sister-concubine cupped Feyd’s cheek and turned him to face her. She licked his lips and teased with the tip of her tongue until his grin faded and his mouth opened for her. He exhaled a quiet moan as she licked around his mouth. She slid her hand down his neck and chest. His eyes half-opened as she moved her hand between the legs of the Harpy on top of him. She pulled back, tongue sliding out and over his upper lip as she watched him stare at her hand. She licked up his jaw and nibbled at his ear.

(now there's a part 2)

#I'm completely unhinged #feyd's harpies #dark!feyd #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd fanfic #feyd fic #dune part 2 #feyd smut #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd-rautha harkonnen

[triluvial]

There is a place in my heart where a darker arranged marriage AU lives, one where Reader is arranged to marry not Feyd but Vladimir.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #original #dark au #implications of rape

[twilightfairie]

࿚ 𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐝-𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐚 ♡ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ౨ৎ 𓈒 ۫ · ᰍ

#feyd rautha #dune part 2 #dune part two #dune icons #feyd rautha harkonnen #austin butler #austin butler icons #florence pugh #florence pugh icons #messy moodboard #carrd inspo #messy mb #carrd stuff #random icons #dune part one #dune promo #carrd resources #carrd icons #random moodboard #black and white moodboard #dark icons #sci fi movies #dark moodboard #lq icons #lq moodboard #twitter icons #messy icons #grimes #geidi primes #giedi prime

[feyd-meowtha]

Paul said Geidi Prime in the same tone he used for Atlantis or Hades, Sodom and Gomorrah. 

For how could such a place, such people, exist anywhere else? 

Such sharp lives, so many teeth. 

Paul had seen them, he had spoken with them, he had touched them. A Harkonnen had made him feel things he had never imagined, kissed his lips and drawn shameful sounds from deep in his starving belly. 

And yet….

They were so very far away, the feud between their houses chasm deep and achingly ancient. 

.......................................................

I'm back on my FeydPaul obsession and darker than ever! This is my attempt at merging the Feyd-Rautha we see in the books with the one from the new movie and I'm so excited!

If you like sadomasochistic weirdos with bucket-loads of trauma and terrible coping mechanisms, do I have the fic for you!

*slaps roof of FeyPaul* This baby can fit so much psychosexual tension.

#feyd rautha #austin butler #dune part 2 #dune #dune fanfiction #timothée chalamet #paul atreides #angst #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #house harkonnen #house atreides #dark fic

[pandawful]

my friend got me dune series and i finished the first book just for this twunk. im projecting so many hcs on him

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha fanart #dune #dune fanart #feyd rautha harkonnen #i know he has dark hair in the books but he gives me Blonde Male energy. hes gender

[tokoyamisstuff]

Rabban: Hey why does our uncle call you 'babygirl'?

Feyd: Let's stop talking for a while.

#sadly I can't draw so take this #incorrect quote #dune #dune part two #feyd rautha #glossu rabban #beast rabban #vladimir harkonnen #house harkonnen #incest tw #grooming tw #dark humor

[severussnapedamagedlove]

FEYD-RAUTHA

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is a brilliant, cold, calculated monster. He holds the key to my death. If only I can be released of his torturous games can I be relieved of my place in this demented world. During the celebrations of his 20th birthday, he is given a new path. Arrakis. What death for me does this planet hold? Rated M.

[TW: non/con, enslavement, violence, gore]

#Feyd #Feyd Rautha #Harkonnen #The Baron #Na-Baron #Fanfiction #Story #Fanfic #Dune #Dune Messiash #Dune movie #House Harkonnen #Dark romance #trigger warning #a03 #arrakis #austin butler

[probablyhuntersmom]

Ya see?

#Dune was definitely somewhere in the back of some of the VLD writers' brains. the books were from the 60s after all #just that the execution was particularly abysmal. but VLD peeps who are still here today: we loved the ideas and concepts enough to stay #anyway in November I will get to see a Keith vs Lotor fight that never happened! lol #feyd rautha harkonnen #lotor #vld x dune #you have Spice and then you have quintessence. the former was more a narcotic/drug... #the other intersects a bit with Dust from His Dark Materials and even the Force from Star Wars #defined as ''highest known energy per unit volume'' in the universe

[kasagia]

Right hand II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.

You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.

Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.

And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.

A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.

"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.

"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.

"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…

However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.

You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.

"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.

You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.

"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…

"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."

"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.

For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.

He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.

"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.

"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.

"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.

You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.

"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.

You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.

"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.

It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.

You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.

Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.

"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.

"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.

He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.

"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.

"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.

He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:

"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.

"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."

"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.

His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.

"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.

You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.

"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"

"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.

He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.

You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.

You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.

“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."

"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.

"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.

You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.

"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.

"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.

"If I know them, then yes, why?"

"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.

"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.

"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.

"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.

"Don't we?"

"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.

"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.

He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.

You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.

You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.

The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...

“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.

As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.

“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.

"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."

"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.

"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.

"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.

Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.

It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.

"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.

He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...

"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.

"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'

He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before? 

He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.

But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.

"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.

You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.

Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.

And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.

"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.

"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.

"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.

"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."

"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.

"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.

You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.

"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.

"What?"

"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."

"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.

"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.

"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.

"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.

"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.

You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.

"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...

"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.

You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.

"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.

"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...

"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."

As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.

You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.

You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.

On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.

What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.

You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.

At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.

"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.

"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.

"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."

This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.

You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.

He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.

At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.

You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.

"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."

You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.

You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...

You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.

"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.

Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...

He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.

"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.

"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.

"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.

You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.

The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.

"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"

"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.

"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.

"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.

"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.

You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.

You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.

The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.

As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.

"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"

They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.

"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."

"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."

"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."

And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.

"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.

You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.

You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.

So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.

You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.

You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.

Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.

"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."

"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.

"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."

"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.

"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.

Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.

You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.

You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.

You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.

You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..

You were the only one left alive.

From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.

You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.

For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.

But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.

You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.

Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...

Part III Taglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #house harkonnen #dune part 2 #oneshot #feyd supremacy #feyd smut #feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader #feyd imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #smut #dark romance #toxic behavior

[perlelune]

Young God | Feyd-Rautha

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She stares ahead, crysknife in hand, determined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet, somehow he is, still breathing that is.

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

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

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

The lie flows from your tongue with frightening ease.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steadying your hammering heart, you glower at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart leaps and you retreat your hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pins you with that unsettling stare once more.

“That song you sang…” he rumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Na-baron. We received your beacon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your forehead creases.

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

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

Horror twists your insides.

You’re not on Arrakis anymore.

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

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

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

“The Harkonnen Keep on…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He tilts his head.

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

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

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

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

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

His uncanny anticipation coats the air. Confusion fills you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re sick.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shame pulses through you with his words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune fanfiction #dune part 2 #dune #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha #feyd-rautha harkonnen #dark fic

[feyd-rautha-aesthetic]

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡ 𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐃𝐈 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 & 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 ⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 🖤

#feyd rautha dune #giedi prime #dune giedi prime #dune concept art #dune part two #dune 2 #dune part 2 #dark aesthetic #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha #dune aesthetic

[lady-phasma]

Release

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x his Harpies

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Feyd and his Harpies, cannibalism, pain, blood, oral, and our favorite: black cum (Okay, look, he thinks of them as objects, not me. I just can’t get him out of my head.)

Summary: Brain rot about that last warning. I had to write something from his POV. I enjoy writing from the male POV but don’t get enough practice. I hope it works. Just over 800 words.

Feyd tossed his dusty, bloody clothes on the floor. He ran his hands over his head. The practice sparring simultaneously cleared his mind and got his blood pumping. He didn’t have a ritual after fights but often needed to release the excess energy. His darlings, waiting, always starving for any scraps of attention, would enthusiastically be the targets of that release.

He listened to their soft breathing behind him. The man whose blood stained his clothes had provided them with an indulgent meal. When he had walked into his room they looked at him but with drowsy eyes. They were accustomed to waiting for his attention, rarely demanding it.

Not all the blood on his hands had come off when he washed and the red in the creases looked almost black against his skin. He flexed and fisted his hands, replaying the fight in his mind. His muscles had begun to ache already and it would be much more intense by the next day. He rubbed the shoulder that had received a particularly hard blow and smiled faintly as the pain radiated.

Feyd turned toward the bed and his Harpies. Their eyes were a bit livelier now that they noticed he was naked. One licked her lips as she narrowed her eyes, watching his growing erection. He stood next to the bed evaluating them, a look of pride on his face, pride and hunger. He petted the head of the first Harpy to sit up. She gazed up at him as he cupped her cheek in his palm. He looked at each of them in turn as they slithered closer to him. He didn’t require it but preferred that they were naked. It pleased him when he didn’t have to wait for them to undress.

He gazed at half-opened mouths, pert nipples, and hairless clefts between thighs. He continued to absentmindedly pet the one woman but began to stroke his hard cock. Another Harpy moved closer to him, sitting up on her knees. She gently ran her fingers up his thighs, along the line of his hips, up his belly. She stretched up to meet him part way and Feyd obliged and kissed her parted lips. Her tongue lapped at his black teeth. Slowly, she replaced her hand with his and squeezed and stroked his cock. He moaned.

He squeezed her breast with one hand, grabbed her head with the other. The abandoned Harpy whined and followed his hand. She licked at their ears, dividing her attention between Feyd and the woman. The third Harpy managed to insert herself into the kiss and turned his face to her. He let her and only opened his eyes enough to see the disappointment on the other Harpy’s face. He smiled into the lips on his. He enjoyed their competing desires as much as he enjoyed their bodies. Feyd pulled back from the kiss. Smiling down at the woman stroking him he pressed firmly on the back of her neck.

“Open your mouth for me, my darling,” he growled. She did. His moved her hand and slid the tip of his cock along her bottom lip. Black pre-cum coated it and he sighed. She opened wider and pushed her tongue out, making room for him. She looked up at him, expressionless except for searching black eyes waiting on her next direction. None came.

Feyd grabbed the sides of her face with both hands. She closed her lips around his cock as he fucked into her mouth. He groaned softly as the warmth enveloped him. He closed his eyes and images of the fight he had won earlier flashed in his mind. He felt hands on his thighs, his ass, and his balls. A tongue licked his ribs and down his side. Fingers teased him from his lower back to the back of his thigh.

Sweet, lovely sounds filled his ears. The wetness of the Harpy’s mouth on his cock. Her muffled moans and occasional gasps when he would pause to let her catch her breath. The mewling of the other two as they tasted and teased him. They rarely spoke anymore, only his name occasionally, no louder than a whisper. These sounds were what he craved.

One of them squeezed his balls and he pushed his full length into the woman’s mouth. She groaned around him and the vibrations made the tightness in his core unravel. He pulled out just enough to spill his black, thick load over her tongue. He opened his eyes and watched the corners of her mouth twitch up in a small smile. His deep groan turned into an exhale and his shoulders slumped. He released her head. As he moved back he wiped the head of his cock on her tongue.

“Swallow. All of it,” Feyd commanded. The Harpy obeyed. He wiped black from the corner of her mouth with his thumb and pushed it between her lips. Her tongue lapped it from him.

#someone get me away from his harpies they are rotting my brain #feyd x his harpies #dark!feyd #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd rautha is my new muse #dune part two #feyd #feyd fanfiction #feyd fanfic #feyd smut #feyd rautha smut #dune #dune 2 #dune part 2 #feyd-rautha harkonnen

[richdadpoor]

Disney+ Captain Nemo Series Cancelled

Ahsoka drops a few new posters for its droid heroes. Get a first look at Our Flag Means Death season 2, and Wolf Like Me’s return. Plus, another mysterious teaser for American Horror Story: Delicate. Spoilers now! Dune: Part Two Empire Magazine has a new photo of Austin Butler as the villainous Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, opposite Léa Seydoux as Lady Margot Fenring. In the article, Denis Villeneuve…

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#Ahsoka #Austin Butler #Count Fenring #Culture #Denis Villeneuve #disney #Emma Roberts #Entertainment #Feyd-Rautha #Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen #Gizmodo #Léa Seydoux #Margot Fenring #Mathieu Turi #Mick Jagger #Nautilus #Star Wars: Ahsoka #The Deep Dark