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I love him so much!! 🥰🥰😍😍

"Higher Purpose" - Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

a/n: i went a lil crazy with this one idk dawg. based on several anon requests + one from @the-shadow-queen02 🩷

Summary: The Reverend Mother always told you that you were meant for a higher purpose. What happens when your brother throws that into jeopardy?

TW: dubcon (reader uses the voice but not to solicit any sexual acts), profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, PUBLIC sex, mommy kink tbh, switch!feyd and switch!reader, cannibalism (the harpies ofc), blood kink, knife kink, breeding kink, oral f receiving, choking, handjob, p in v sex, inkpie, death/murder/violence

Word Count: 3,500

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

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

All your life, you have been told you were born to serve a higher purpose - a cause greater than yourself. That you were meant to birth the Kwisatz Haderach, the Chosen One, who could see through time and space. For this higher purpose, you were taken from your home when you were barely weaned from your mother, though she did not care. She would soon be with child once again, this time? A male heir as a testament to her love for your father. You often thought about your family, wondering if they also thought of you. You saw them in your dreams, often calling out to your mother and your little brother, though if they heard you, they gave no indication.

And after some time passed, your longing for family grew into bitter resentment. Your anger toward your mother and father and younger brother grew and grew, and instead of missing them, you threw all your efforts into your training, wanting to become the most powerful Bene Gesserit in existence. You took all the sisters’ teachings to heart, working longer and harder than any of the other novices. And it was noticed. The Reverend Mother gave you praise she afforded no one else, stating that you were the most skilled Bene Gesserit she had seen since your mother. But that wasn’t enough for you.

You wanted to be better than her.

Your hatred, your anger, your bitterness… It all fueled you. Molded you into the woman you are now. Some of the other sisters voiced their pity for you, having to marry and procreate with a barbarian Harkonnen like Feyd-Rautha. But you? You have no qualms about it. After all, you were always meant to serve a higher purpose.

A purpose that is put into jeopardy when your mother begins calling your younger brother the Kwisatz Haderach, the Mahdi. The One. The Reverend Mother pulls you aside after visiting Caladan, admitting her doubts about Paul’s worthiness to be given the esteemed title. Rather than waiting until your twenty-first birthday to send you to Giedi Prime, she wishes to send you now. She wishes for you to seduce the na-Baron and bring forth an heir - the true Chosen One - as soon as possible.

As far as you’re concerned, this is the perfect form of revenge against your family. So you agree without hesitation.

Feyd waits at the landing platform to welcome you as you step under the light of Giedi Prime’s infrared sun. He is tall, his presence looming and threatening as he walks toward you, with all the grace of a lion about to attack a gazelle. What he doesn’t realize is you are no harmless prey. In fact, it is the law of the jungle that the lioness is fiercer than the lion.

He circles around you, twirling his crysknife in your hand, as if evaluating you before remarking, “You are… Shorter than I expected.”

Your lips curl upward at his words, “Is that a problem, na-Baron? Perhaps I can ask them to send someone taller.”

Rather amused by you, he steps closer, using his blade to tilt your chin up toward him, “They say you Bene Gesserit are to be feared. That you’re witches. But there is nothing intimidating about you, little witch.”

“I warn you, my lord,” you reply coolly, meeting his gaze without any reluctance - something that seems to surprise him, “You should not underestimate me.”

He chuckles, staring you down, his blade pushing off your hood and revealing your face in its entirety to him. His expression seems approving as he comes even closer, tracing the contours of your cheeks, your jaw with his knife, reveling in the fact that you do not so much as flinch.

“I suppose we’ll find out whether you have as much fire in your veins as you say you have,” Feyd presses the blade to your throat, his breath hot against your skin as he demands, “Show me that you do not fear me, little one.”

You let out a soft laugh, resting your hand over his, pushing the blade even harder against your neck, nearly enough to leave a cut, “It is a fine blade, na-Baron. But I do not fear it, nor do I fear pain. But…” You pause before impressing him with your mastery of the Voice, ordering him, “Tell me what it is you feel.”

A chill runs down Feyd’s spine, his words tumbling forth in spite of himself, a low groan erupting from his throat as he admits, “Excitement. Fear. Confusion. Arousal.”

You lean in, your lips nearly brushing against his as you whisper, “Good.” And just as quickly, you pull away, gesturing toward the three women standing behind him, “Would you mind having one of your ladies show me to my room? I’d quite like to freshen up before dinner.”

Feyd nods, watching his Harpies flock to you, cooing their admiration, while you soak it all in. He watches them lead you away, thinking how much he looks forward to dinner.

Perhaps wedding an Atreides won’t be as horrid as he thought.

Your husband-to-be summons you to the training room rather than his chambers, where the two of you are meant to dine. However, you know what this is. His attempt at exerting dominance over you, forcing you to watch a display of his strength. Amused, you go to the training room, happy to play along with this little game. Feyd is lethal, in the most beautiful of ways. You watch the way he easily brings each one of his opponents to the ground. No mercy, just sheer brute strength with an effortless sort of grace. You watch with interest, something that seems to please him, smirking as he delivers the killing blow, his face coated with the blood of his felled opponent.

“Well done, na-Baron.”

Feyd walks toward you, “Thank you. I needed to take the edge off my… Appetite.”

“I’d have been all the more pleased if you had kept that edge, my lord.”

He chuckles at your words, and the fact that the blood does not seem to bother you, moving to grab you by the hips, tugging you closer toward him, “Be careful, Lady Atreides. You might entice me into acting out my desires here and now.”

Your future husband notices the way your eyes grow cold at the mention of your family name, the ice in your voice as you reply, “I do not go by that name, my lord. I quite preferred ‘little witch’.”

Feyd nods, “As you wish, my lady.”

The two of you walk toward his private chambers, the mood soon returning to the playful flirtation of before as you comment, “To answer your earlier statement… Let’s file that idea away for later, shall we? I heard that public displays are not uncommon here.”

“And here I was thinking the Bene Gesserit were pure and proper.” You come to a stop in front of his chambers, Feyd’s front pressed up against your back as he opens the door and whispers in your ear, “Do you know what kind of thoughts you put in my head?”

You turn your head slightly to face him, so close that your noses brush as you murmur, “Unless that is a knife you have pressed against my backside, I have a decent idea of what those thoughts are, na-Baron.”

“Oh, you really are a little temptress, aren’t you?” Feyd grins, those darkened teeth of his doing nothing to deter you as he leads you inside.

You take a seat at one end of the table, crossing your legs, resting your chin on your palm as you lean forward. You notice the way Feyd’s eyes are drawn to the exposed skin of your thighs, your cleavage, your neck… He has fallen for your wiles, hook, line and sinker. You brush your foot along the inside of his calf as you sip at the wine one of his slaves brings forth, smirking at the low groan he lets out.

“Do you have any idea how hard you’re making it to control myself?”

“Patience is a virtue, na-Baron. You’re a great warrior. I am sure you already know the value of waiting for the opportune moment to strike.”

He shakes his head, dragging his chair to sit beside you, his forwardness and eagerness to be near you being somewhat endearing, bringing a smile to your face as he rests a hand on your thigh, “Indeed. But sometimes, a warrior must also let go of his inhibitions.”

By the time the slaves return with your meal, you have seated yourself in your na-Baron’s lap, your lips moving against his in a messy, heated kiss. Feyd’s hands tangle in your hair, tugging eagerly as you move to whisper in his ear.

“You’re not half bad at this.”

“This…” Feyd pants, moving one hand to squeeze at your breast, “This is still the appetizer.”

Since he seemed to enjoy your use of the Voice on him before, you do it again, staring into his eyes as you question, “Tell me what it is that you desire…”

He shivers, eyes nearly rolling back at the sensation of surrendering himself to you, inhaling tremulously before he replies, “I desire you. All of you. Like I have never desired anything else in my life.”

Your tongue trails along the shell of Feyd’s ear, a grin blossoming on your face as he lets out a ragged breath, pulling you even closer to him, his face nearly buried between your breasts as you tease, “And as your wife, you will have all of me.” You pull back slightly, fingers caressing his throat before wrapping around and squeezing, ever so gently, “You are a complex man. With the desire to dominate as well as to be dominated.” You move to kiss his Adam’s apple, nipping at it and reveling in the way he hardens against your thigh, feeling you grinding against him, “It is a desire I share. To both receive and to give. I think this partnership will work out quite well in that regard.”

He grunts, panting slightly as you move to palm at his cock over the fabric of his leathers, his entire being screaming at him to bend you over the table right now and make you scream his name for all of Giedi Prime to hear. But, on the other hand, the delicious torture you are currently inflicting on him is equally as desirable. His hands move to squeeze the flesh of your ass, letting out a shuddering moan as you nip at his earlobe.

“You are the perfect wife for me, my na-Baroness.”

It does not take long for Feyd to realize just how much the two of you have in common, something that endears you to him all the more. You grow closer and closer with each passing day, your wedding approaching. You share the same bloodlust, the same desire for power, the same cunning, the same drive to do better than your siblings.

Something which has brought you to where you are now, reveling in the glory of Rabban’s defeat at Feyd’s hands, your husband having now taken command of Arrakis. You watch as he slits the throat of one of his slaves before shoving the poor thing at the Harpies. He brings the blade to your lips, cock straining against his pants as your tongue darts out to lick the knife clean.

“Arrakis is just as you described,” you muse, “Quite entertaining.” Feyd takes a seat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, feeling the way you lean into his touch before murmuring, “Shall I tell you about my relationship with my own brother?” Feyd turns to you, slightly surprised that you are willing to open up to him about the topic, but nods. “My mother had me for only one purpose. To assuage the Bene Gesserit. She said I was meant for a higher purpose, and sent me to them when I was barely weaned from her breast. It was Paul she wanted. So arrogant, thinking she could bring forth the Chosen One when it was I who was meant to bear him.” Feyd listens to your story intently, the pieces falling into place as you explain the reasons behind your bitterness toward your family, “My brother… I have seen him in my dreams, calling himself the Mahdi. He is nothing more than an arrogant child. I eagerly await the day you meet him in battle and will cheer your name louder than anyone as you strike the killing blow.”

Feyd moves to rest a hand against your cheek, his voice a low rasp as he whispers, “I will kill him for you, my na-Baroness. I will lay his body at your feet as a wedding gift.”

He kisses your neck, his arousal only growing as you murmur, “I want you to wed me as he lays dying. I want him to breathe his last breath, watching as you fill me with your seed. Knowing he is not the Chosen One, but rather it will be the child you sire, the one that will grow inside me. Is that acceptable to you, my lord?”

Oh, it is more than acceptable.

The day where your husband-to-be and your brother meet in battle comes sooner than anticipated. You are surprised by Paul’s audacity in challenging the emperor for the throne, but even more so at the gall he displays after learning who you are.

“Brother,” you welcome him with an icy smile, your arm looped in Feyd’s as he arrives at the Arrakeen palace, “Welcome to our castle.” He stares at you in confusion for a moment, looking between you and Lady Jessica - the woman who gave birth to you but you will never acknowledge as your mother. You let out a bitter little laugh, sneering, “Don’t you recognize me from your dreams, little Paul? Or am I meant to call you the Lisan al-Ghaib now?”

Paul’s lips part in shock at the realization, but he quickly recovers, meeting your gaze, “You have changed, sister. But I must ask why you stand at the side of those who killed our father. Do you have no loyalty to your family?”

“Your family. Not mine,” you cut him off sharply as Feyd pulls you closer.

“You are not just a Bene Gesserit, sister, you are an Atreides-”

“That name means nothing to me. Nor do you nor our father nor mother.”

Paul stares at you, completely taken aback, his voice and eyes turning to steel, “If you and our cousin bow to me and swear your allegiance, I will spare you.”

You shake your head, resting a hand on Feyd’s chest, “We would die before bowing to you, little brother.” You turn to your mother next, eyeing her disdainfully, “You truly thought you could rob me of my birthright? My purpose? It is I who will bear the Kwisatz Haderach, Lady Jessica. Your son is little more than a pretender.”

It does not come as a surprise when the Emperor chooses Feyd as his champion. You stand beside your betrothed, taking his hands in yours, an ancient proverb of House Harkonnen crossing your mind, one you read about when you learned it was a Harkonnen that you would marry, Giedi Prime that would become your home. You pull Feyd into a passionate kiss, one that has him gripping you by the hips as if to ground himself in reality.

“Come back to me with your shield,” you whisper against his lips, “Or on it.”

Feyd lets out a low growl, holding you even tighter, your commitment to him and his house affirmed. Then, he turns from you and begins the battle in earnest. You watch with admiration as Feyd leaps into action, every movement purposeful, with the singular goal of defeating your brother. Your heart pounds against your chest, eyes gleaming with excitement as Feyd manages to stab Paul once, while Paul has not even landed one hit. Your brother, in all his arrogance, will never be half the fighter your betrothed is. The fight continues, and though Paul does his best, Feyd defeats him with relative ease. You walk toward his fallen body, listening as he gasps for air, blood pouring from his wounds. You stand before Feyd, wiping the blood from his face with a smirk.

“Well fought.”

“I have kept my promise to you, little witch,” he chuckles, pulling you into a kiss, “And now I will make good on the other promise I made.”

Paul clings to life long enough to watch as Feyd holds the Reverend Mother at knifepoint, demanding she proclaim the two of you as bound in holy matrimony. Feyd wastes no time in pinning you to the ground beside Paul, your arms wrapping around him, lips crashing against each other’s in a desperate, feverish kiss. Feyd pushes your dress up just enough to reveal your bare cunt to him, groaning as his fingers trace your slit, feeling the wetness that has pooled between your thighs.

“I had no idea seeing me fight would arouse you so,” he chuckles darkly.

“Everything about you arouses me,” you reply playfully, glancing over at Paul who grows weaker with each passing moment, though the anger on his face remains as Feyd moves to lap at your slick folds, preparing you for his cock, “My husband, let me bear your heirs. Let us bring forth the Chosen One. Let us serve the higher purpose we were meant to.”

Feyd moans against you, mouthing at you eagerly, the sloppy, wet kisses he lands on your bare core, the way his tongue delves inside of you, his bloody hands staining your thighs crimson as he tastes you… It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak, pulling him closer, wrapping your limbs around him as you palm at his cock. You undo his pants just enough to free it, giving it a few quick tugs, guiding him inside you. Feyd lets out a low hiss as he feels your wetness squeezing around him, rutting against you like some sort of depraved beast.

You grin as your eyes meet his, Feyd’s lips capturing your own in yet another hungry kiss. You know that Feyd belongs to you, his body, his soul, his heart. And in the same vein, you do not mind allowing yourself to belong to him. Not when he has given you the justice you have so desperately craved all your life. Not when he is about to give you what it is you have always wanted. Each snap of his hips fills you once more, making you moan his name in ecstasy, the two of you enjoying the eyes of all those present on you as you make love right there in front of all of them. And the both of you smirk to yourselves as Paul lets out his dying breath, the last thing he sees before he dies being Feyd spilling himself inside you, his black seed coating your thighs.

That night, you lay in bed beside your newlywed husband, the two of you completely bare having just consummated your union once again, a wicked smirk playing on your lips as you muse aloud, “The False Prophet died watching the true Chosen One to be conceived.”

Feyd barks out a laugh, watching as you move to straddle his hips, letting out a satisfied groan as you sink down onto his cock, letting him fill you once more, “Poetic, almost.”

He loves the way you admire his chest, his toned stomach, your hands running all over him, smearing his battle paint, before your tongue follows the same pattern. You roll your hips against his as you take one of your nipples between your teeth, nibbling slightly, making him groan as his hips buck up desperately against yours. Never has he felt so desired, so wanted in a coupling as he does with you. Though your marriage may have been arranged, it would seem the two of you cannot live without the other now.

“Why stop at Giedi Prime and Arrakis?” You ask him, his eyes transfixed by the sight of your breasts bouncing as you ride his cock, “The emperor is old and weak. He has no sons. The seat is ripe for the taking.”

Your words strike a chord in Feyd, and he gives you that blackened grin, nodding as he holds your hips in place, desperately thrusting up into your warm, wet cunt, “Yes… Emperor Harkonnen and Empress Harkonnen…”

“Our reign will be one to remember,” you moan against his ear, “And our son… The Chosen One… He will take the throne after us. A higher purpose. The world is ours, my love. If we only reach out and take it.”

And as your hands squeeze his throat gently and he spills himself inside you again, he realizes just how right his little witch is.

His empress.

I love him so much!! 🥰🥰😍😍

"Higher Purpose" - Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

a/n: i went a lil crazy with this one idk dawg. based on several anon requests + one from @the-shadow-queen02 🩷

Summary: The Reverend Mother always told you that you were meant for a higher purpose. What happens when your brother throws that into jeopardy?

TW: dubcon (reader uses the voice but not to solicit any sexual acts), profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, PUBLIC sex, mommy kink tbh, switch!feyd and switch!reader, cannibalism (the harpies ofc), blood kink, knife kink, breeding kink, oral f receiving, choking, handjob, p in v sex, inkpie, death/murder/violence

Word Count: 3,500

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

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

All your life, you have been told you were born to serve a higher purpose - a cause greater than yourself. That you were meant to birth the Kwisatz Haderach, the Chosen One, who could see through time and space. For this higher purpose, you were taken from your home when you were barely weaned from your mother, though she did not care. She would soon be with child once again, this time? A male heir as a testament to her love for your father. You often thought about your family, wondering if they also thought of you. You saw them in your dreams, often calling out to your mother and your little brother, though if they heard you, they gave no indication.

And after some time passed, your longing for family grew into bitter resentment. Your anger toward your mother and father and younger brother grew and grew, and instead of missing them, you threw all your efforts into your training, wanting to become the most powerful Bene Gesserit in existence. You took all the sisters’ teachings to heart, working longer and harder than any of the other novices. And it was noticed. The Reverend Mother gave you praise she afforded no one else, stating that you were the most skilled Bene Gesserit she had seen since your mother. But that wasn’t enough for you.

You wanted to be better than her.

Your hatred, your anger, your bitterness… It all fueled you. Molded you into the woman you are now. Some of the other sisters voiced their pity for you, having to marry and procreate with a barbarian Harkonnen like Feyd-Rautha. But you? You have no qualms about it. After all, you were always meant to serve a higher purpose.

A purpose that is put into jeopardy when your mother begins calling your younger brother the Kwisatz Haderach, the Mahdi. The One. The Reverend Mother pulls you aside after visiting Caladan, admitting her doubts about Paul’s worthiness to be given the esteemed title. Rather than waiting until your twenty-first birthday to send you to Giedi Prime, she wishes to send you now. She wishes for you to seduce the na-Baron and bring forth an heir - the true Chosen One - as soon as possible.

As far as you’re concerned, this is the perfect form of revenge against your family. So you agree without hesitation.

Feyd waits at the landing platform to welcome you as you step under the light of Giedi Prime’s infrared sun. He is tall, his presence looming and threatening as he walks toward you, with all the grace of a lion about to attack a gazelle. What he doesn’t realize is you are no harmless prey. In fact, it is the law of the jungle that the lioness is fiercer than the lion.

He circles around you, twirling his crysknife in your hand, as if evaluating you before remarking, “You are… Shorter than I expected.”

Your lips curl upward at his words, “Is that a problem, na-Baron? Perhaps I can ask them to send someone taller.”

Rather amused by you, he steps closer, using his blade to tilt your chin up toward him, “They say you Bene Gesserit are to be feared. That you’re witches. But there is nothing intimidating about you, little witch.”

“I warn you, my lord,” you reply coolly, meeting his gaze without any reluctance - something that seems to surprise him, “You should not underestimate me.”

He chuckles, staring you down, his blade pushing off your hood and revealing your face in its entirety to him. His expression seems approving as he comes even closer, tracing the contours of your cheeks, your jaw with his knife, reveling in the fact that you do not so much as flinch.

“I suppose we’ll find out whether you have as much fire in your veins as you say you have,” Feyd presses the blade to your throat, his breath hot against your skin as he demands, “Show me that you do not fear me, little one.”

You let out a soft laugh, resting your hand over his, pushing the blade even harder against your neck, nearly enough to leave a cut, “It is a fine blade, na-Baron. But I do not fear it, nor do I fear pain. But…” You pause before impressing him with your mastery of the Voice, ordering him, “Tell me what it is you feel.”

A chill runs down Feyd’s spine, his words tumbling forth in spite of himself, a low groan erupting from his throat as he admits, “Excitement. Fear. Confusion. Arousal.”

You lean in, your lips nearly brushing against his as you whisper, “Good.” And just as quickly, you pull away, gesturing toward the three women standing behind him, “Would you mind having one of your ladies show me to my room? I’d quite like to freshen up before dinner.”

Feyd nods, watching his Harpies flock to you, cooing their admiration, while you soak it all in. He watches them lead you away, thinking how much he looks forward to dinner.

Perhaps wedding an Atreides won’t be as horrid as he thought.

Your husband-to-be summons you to the training room rather than his chambers, where the two of you are meant to dine. However, you know what this is. His attempt at exerting dominance over you, forcing you to watch a display of his strength. Amused, you go to the training room, happy to play along with this little game. Feyd is lethal, in the most beautiful of ways. You watch the way he easily brings each one of his opponents to the ground. No mercy, just sheer brute strength with an effortless sort of grace. You watch with interest, something that seems to please him, smirking as he delivers the killing blow, his face coated with the blood of his felled opponent.

“Well done, na-Baron.”

Feyd walks toward you, “Thank you. I needed to take the edge off my… Appetite.”

“I’d have been all the more pleased if you had kept that edge, my lord.”

He chuckles at your words, and the fact that the blood does not seem to bother you, moving to grab you by the hips, tugging you closer toward him, “Be careful, Lady Atreides. You might entice me into acting out my desires here and now.”

Your future husband notices the way your eyes grow cold at the mention of your family name, the ice in your voice as you reply, “I do not go by that name, my lord. I quite preferred ‘little witch’.”

Feyd nods, “As you wish, my lady.”

The two of you walk toward his private chambers, the mood soon returning to the playful flirtation of before as you comment, “To answer your earlier statement… Let’s file that idea away for later, shall we? I heard that public displays are not uncommon here.”

“And here I was thinking the Bene Gesserit were pure and proper.” You come to a stop in front of his chambers, Feyd’s front pressed up against your back as he opens the door and whispers in your ear, “Do you know what kind of thoughts you put in my head?”

You turn your head slightly to face him, so close that your noses brush as you murmur, “Unless that is a knife you have pressed against my backside, I have a decent idea of what those thoughts are, na-Baron.”

“Oh, you really are a little temptress, aren’t you?” Feyd grins, those darkened teeth of his doing nothing to deter you as he leads you inside.

You take a seat at one end of the table, crossing your legs, resting your chin on your palm as you lean forward. You notice the way Feyd’s eyes are drawn to the exposed skin of your thighs, your cleavage, your neck… He has fallen for your wiles, hook, line and sinker. You brush your foot along the inside of his calf as you sip at the wine one of his slaves brings forth, smirking at the low groan he lets out.

“Do you have any idea how hard you’re making it to control myself?”

“Patience is a virtue, na-Baron. You’re a great warrior. I am sure you already know the value of waiting for the opportune moment to strike.”

He shakes his head, dragging his chair to sit beside you, his forwardness and eagerness to be near you being somewhat endearing, bringing a smile to your face as he rests a hand on your thigh, “Indeed. But sometimes, a warrior must also let go of his inhibitions.”

By the time the slaves return with your meal, you have seated yourself in your na-Baron’s lap, your lips moving against his in a messy, heated kiss. Feyd’s hands tangle in your hair, tugging eagerly as you move to whisper in his ear.

“You’re not half bad at this.”

“This…” Feyd pants, moving one hand to squeeze at your breast, “This is still the appetizer.”

Since he seemed to enjoy your use of the Voice on him before, you do it again, staring into his eyes as you question, “Tell me what it is that you desire…”

He shivers, eyes nearly rolling back at the sensation of surrendering himself to you, inhaling tremulously before he replies, “I desire you. All of you. Like I have never desired anything else in my life.”

Your tongue trails along the shell of Feyd’s ear, a grin blossoming on your face as he lets out a ragged breath, pulling you even closer to him, his face nearly buried between your breasts as you tease, “And as your wife, you will have all of me.” You pull back slightly, fingers caressing his throat before wrapping around and squeezing, ever so gently, “You are a complex man. With the desire to dominate as well as to be dominated.” You move to kiss his Adam’s apple, nipping at it and reveling in the way he hardens against your thigh, feeling you grinding against him, “It is a desire I share. To both receive and to give. I think this partnership will work out quite well in that regard.”

He grunts, panting slightly as you move to palm at his cock over the fabric of his leathers, his entire being screaming at him to bend you over the table right now and make you scream his name for all of Giedi Prime to hear. But, on the other hand, the delicious torture you are currently inflicting on him is equally as desirable. His hands move to squeeze the flesh of your ass, letting out a shuddering moan as you nip at his earlobe.

“You are the perfect wife for me, my na-Baroness.”

It does not take long for Feyd to realize just how much the two of you have in common, something that endears you to him all the more. You grow closer and closer with each passing day, your wedding approaching. You share the same bloodlust, the same desire for power, the same cunning, the same drive to do better than your siblings.

Something which has brought you to where you are now, reveling in the glory of Rabban’s defeat at Feyd’s hands, your husband having now taken command of Arrakis. You watch as he slits the throat of one of his slaves before shoving the poor thing at the Harpies. He brings the blade to your lips, cock straining against his pants as your tongue darts out to lick the knife clean.

“Arrakis is just as you described,” you muse, “Quite entertaining.” Feyd takes a seat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, feeling the way you lean into his touch before murmuring, “Shall I tell you about my relationship with my own brother?” Feyd turns to you, slightly surprised that you are willing to open up to him about the topic, but nods. “My mother had me for only one purpose. To assuage the Bene Gesserit. She said I was meant for a higher purpose, and sent me to them when I was barely weaned from her breast. It was Paul she wanted. So arrogant, thinking she could bring forth the Chosen One when it was I who was meant to bear him.” Feyd listens to your story intently, the pieces falling into place as you explain the reasons behind your bitterness toward your family, “My brother… I have seen him in my dreams, calling himself the Mahdi. He is nothing more than an arrogant child. I eagerly await the day you meet him in battle and will cheer your name louder than anyone as you strike the killing blow.”

Feyd moves to rest a hand against your cheek, his voice a low rasp as he whispers, “I will kill him for you, my na-Baroness. I will lay his body at your feet as a wedding gift.”

He kisses your neck, his arousal only growing as you murmur, “I want you to wed me as he lays dying. I want him to breathe his last breath, watching as you fill me with your seed. Knowing he is not the Chosen One, but rather it will be the child you sire, the one that will grow inside me. Is that acceptable to you, my lord?”

Oh, it is more than acceptable.

The day where your husband-to-be and your brother meet in battle comes sooner than anticipated. You are surprised by Paul’s audacity in challenging the emperor for the throne, but even more so at the gall he displays after learning who you are.

“Brother,” you welcome him with an icy smile, your arm looped in Feyd’s as he arrives at the Arrakeen palace, “Welcome to our castle.” He stares at you in confusion for a moment, looking between you and Lady Jessica - the woman who gave birth to you but you will never acknowledge as your mother. You let out a bitter little laugh, sneering, “Don’t you recognize me from your dreams, little Paul? Or am I meant to call you the Lisan al-Ghaib now?”

Paul’s lips part in shock at the realization, but he quickly recovers, meeting your gaze, “You have changed, sister. But I must ask why you stand at the side of those who killed our father. Do you have no loyalty to your family?”

“Your family. Not mine,” you cut him off sharply as Feyd pulls you closer.

“You are not just a Bene Gesserit, sister, you are an Atreides-”

“That name means nothing to me. Nor do you nor our father nor mother.”

Paul stares at you, completely taken aback, his voice and eyes turning to steel, “If you and our cousin bow to me and swear your allegiance, I will spare you.”

You shake your head, resting a hand on Feyd’s chest, “We would die before bowing to you, little brother.” You turn to your mother next, eyeing her disdainfully, “You truly thought you could rob me of my birthright? My purpose? It is I who will bear the Kwisatz Haderach, Lady Jessica. Your son is little more than a pretender.”

It does not come as a surprise when the Emperor chooses Feyd as his champion. You stand beside your betrothed, taking his hands in yours, an ancient proverb of House Harkonnen crossing your mind, one you read about when you learned it was a Harkonnen that you would marry, Giedi Prime that would become your home. You pull Feyd into a passionate kiss, one that has him gripping you by the hips as if to ground himself in reality.

“Come back to me with your shield,” you whisper against his lips, “Or on it.”

Feyd lets out a low growl, holding you even tighter, your commitment to him and his house affirmed. Then, he turns from you and begins the battle in earnest. You watch with admiration as Feyd leaps into action, every movement purposeful, with the singular goal of defeating your brother. Your heart pounds against your chest, eyes gleaming with excitement as Feyd manages to stab Paul once, while Paul has not even landed one hit. Your brother, in all his arrogance, will never be half the fighter your betrothed is. The fight continues, and though Paul does his best, Feyd defeats him with relative ease. You walk toward his fallen body, listening as he gasps for air, blood pouring from his wounds. You stand before Feyd, wiping the blood from his face with a smirk.

“Well fought.”

“I have kept my promise to you, little witch,” he chuckles, pulling you into a kiss, “And now I will make good on the other promise I made.”

Paul clings to life long enough to watch as Feyd holds the Reverend Mother at knifepoint, demanding she proclaim the two of you as bound in holy matrimony. Feyd wastes no time in pinning you to the ground beside Paul, your arms wrapping around him, lips crashing against each other’s in a desperate, feverish kiss. Feyd pushes your dress up just enough to reveal your bare cunt to him, groaning as his fingers trace your slit, feeling the wetness that has pooled between your thighs.

“I had no idea seeing me fight would arouse you so,” he chuckles darkly.

“Everything about you arouses me,” you reply playfully, glancing over at Paul who grows weaker with each passing moment, though the anger on his face remains as Feyd moves to lap at your slick folds, preparing you for his cock, “My husband, let me bear your heirs. Let us bring forth the Chosen One. Let us serve the higher purpose we were meant to.”

Feyd moans against you, mouthing at you eagerly, the sloppy, wet kisses he lands on your bare core, the way his tongue delves inside of you, his bloody hands staining your thighs crimson as he tastes you… It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak, pulling him closer, wrapping your limbs around him as you palm at his cock. You undo his pants just enough to free it, giving it a few quick tugs, guiding him inside you. Feyd lets out a low hiss as he feels your wetness squeezing around him, rutting against you like some sort of depraved beast.

You grin as your eyes meet his, Feyd’s lips capturing your own in yet another hungry kiss. You know that Feyd belongs to you, his body, his soul, his heart. And in the same vein, you do not mind allowing yourself to belong to him. Not when he has given you the justice you have so desperately craved all your life. Not when he is about to give you what it is you have always wanted. Each snap of his hips fills you once more, making you moan his name in ecstasy, the two of you enjoying the eyes of all those present on you as you make love right there in front of all of them. And the both of you smirk to yourselves as Paul lets out his dying breath, the last thing he sees before he dies being Feyd spilling himself inside you, his black seed coating your thighs.

That night, you lay in bed beside your newlywed husband, the two of you completely bare having just consummated your union once again, a wicked smirk playing on your lips as you muse aloud, “The False Prophet died watching the true Chosen One to be conceived.”

Feyd barks out a laugh, watching as you move to straddle his hips, letting out a satisfied groan as you sink down onto his cock, letting him fill you once more, “Poetic, almost.”

He loves the way you admire his chest, his toned stomach, your hands running all over him, smearing his battle paint, before your tongue follows the same pattern. You roll your hips against his as you take one of your nipples between your teeth, nibbling slightly, making him groan as his hips buck up desperately against yours. Never has he felt so desired, so wanted in a coupling as he does with you. Though your marriage may have been arranged, it would seem the two of you cannot live without the other now.

“Why stop at Giedi Prime and Arrakis?” You ask him, his eyes transfixed by the sight of your breasts bouncing as you ride his cock, “The emperor is old and weak. He has no sons. The seat is ripe for the taking.”

Your words strike a chord in Feyd, and he gives you that blackened grin, nodding as he holds your hips in place, desperately thrusting up into your warm, wet cunt, “Yes… Emperor Harkonnen and Empress Harkonnen…”

“Our reign will be one to remember,” you moan against his ear, “And our son… The Chosen One… He will take the throne after us. A higher purpose. The world is ours, my love. If we only reach out and take it.”

And as your hands squeeze his throat gently and he spills himself inside you again, he realizes just how right his little witch is.

His empress.

"Runaway Bride" - Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

a/n: combined two anon requests with one from @the-shadow-queen02. i hope y'all like this 🩷

Summary: When you escape your husband, he follows you, vowing that he will always find you.

TW: DUBCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, chase kink ig, free use kink, breeding kink, public sex, degradation, inkpie, p in v sex, fingering, cock warming, spit kink, tiddy succin, overstim, murder

Word Count: 2,750

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

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

Ever since you were a young girl, you were told that when you left Caladan for Giedi Prime, you would cease to be an Atreides. That when you married Feyd Rautha, you would become a Harkonnen. The idea terrified you even then. You loved your parents and Paul deeply. Abandoning them forever, giving up such an integral part of your identity… You knew your betrothed was a famed fighter. So every night you prayed that he might fall in battle. That his blade may chip and shatter. But he remained undefeated. And you? You continued being trained by your mother into being the perfect little wife for the Harkonnen. She never had much interest in you, though she did love you dearly. You always felt she preferred Paul. Your father, however? You were his little darling. You could do no wrong as far as he was concerned. The day you left for Giedi Prime, it was he who you found most difficult to leave behind, bawling into his chest.

Your betrothed was much different than you expected him to be. In fact, you’re not sure what you expected at all. But it wasn’t him? It surprised you that he had no hair, but you had to admit the lack of it emphasized his refined features, those aristocratic high cheekbones and piercing eyes, those full lips hiding his teeth, painted black to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. Perhaps that’s what you were too. His enemy. For he certainly struck fear into your heart when he approached you, with all the grace of a predator stalking its next meal. He circled you appraisingly, seeming fairly amused at the way you tried to hold your head high, the way you tried to show no trepidation at marrying him. Feyd stopped short in front of you, his stare boring into your own. Though you wore the dress sent for your impending nuptials, his gaze made you feel as though you were as naked as the day you were born.

“Are you afraid of me?”

His voice wasn’t at all how you imagined. Feyd sounded almost more like an animal than a human - a low rasp more than actual words. He sensed your hesitation in responding, a cruel smile spreading across his lips at the realization. 

You saw no point in lying, so you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, “Yes.”

Feyd seemed almost impressed by your candor, though it’s fleeting as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin, making the hairs on your neck stand on end as he murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “Good. You should be.”

The wedding customs of the Harkonnen were already known to you. From the exchange of blood to the bridal hunt, you were fully aware of everything. The coppery tang of Feyd’s blood lingered on your lips as you ran through the halls, the heels of your shoes clacking on the black marble floor. It was laughable, how quickly Feyd caught up to you. He grinned down at you as he pinned you to the ground, your arms above your head.

“Were you even trying to run?” He mocked, running a hand along your side.

You remember it vividly - the way he stared at you, the way he used his knife to cut open your dress, leaving your body bare and vulnerable before him. The way he used his fingers to ease you open for him, claiming he was too large to fit otherwise. You doubted it until he disrobed, right there in the hallway, his length swaying from side to side as he grasped the base of it, giving it a few quick tugs, working himself to full hardness. Feyd Rautha was beautiful, in a lethal, terrifying way. And you hated yourself for the wetness between your thighs, the way you parted your legs to accommodate him. The way you allowed him to fuck you like a whore on the ground, only meters away from the chambers you were going to share with him.

Feyd was a man of voracious appetites, and he seemed to want you at all hours of the day. Given a taste of physical love, of the pleasure and the pain he could give you in perfect harmony, you were addicted. You hated him, but you were addicted. It wasn’t uncommon for him to simply take you at the breakfast table, lifting you up and burying himself between your thighs, his inky black spend dripping from your cunt as you walked back to your chambers to clean yourself off. He became so obsessed with the thought of having you, of breeding you, that he even started calling you into his strategy meetings, if only to have you sit on his cock, “to keep him warm and ready for afterward”.

And so, you’d do as he asked, moving your dress aside, revealing the fact that you’d foregone wearing any undergarments - at his insistence - slowly sinking down on his cock with a soft gasp, doing your best not to move. At first, the other Harkonnen, particularly Feyd’s brother Rabban, were skeptical about your and Feyd’s escapades, particularly during these meetings. You were a member of the House Atreides, their sworn enemies, after all. How could they trust that you wouldn’t go running to tell your father their secrets? Their plans to reclaim Arrakis after it was given to him? What if you were a spy? Feyd would merely chuckle, shaking his head. And one day?

He simply bent you over the table, holding your hands down as he fucked into you like a hungry animal, declaring to all those present, “She’s no spy. She’s a cock-hungry whore. All she wishes for is my seed. For me to fill her with my cock, over and over again.” 

He tugged your hair up, forcing you to meet the gazes of the men present, particularly Rabban, your eyes glazed over with pleasure as he continued rutting against you. His large hand moved to grasp at your throat, making you choke ever so slightly as his thrusts began to slow, his balls slapping against your ass, tightening before he reached his release, filling you with his seed. And like the good little cockslut that you were, you came around his cock mere seconds later. Feyd always demanded you be dressed in white so the evidence of his claim on you could be seen in the stains on your clothing. You were so submissive for him, so docile and pliant. Always so ready and willing for him to take you.

That’s why it came as such a shock when you did indeed betray him upon hearing the plans that Baron Vladimir had for your father. All this time, you had been listening, waiting for the right moment to escape. Your words of affection, spoken in the dark of the night as you lay in each other’s arms, meant nothing, it would seem. The first chance you had, you went running back to your pathetic family. To Arrakis, where they now resided.

Feyd knows Arrakis. He’s visited there more times than he can count. You? A sweet little thing like you won’t last a day. Besides, you need him. Despite the letter you left him stating that you hated him, hated his family, and he’d never see you again, Feyd knows your destinies are forever intertwined. That he is bound to you and you to him, whether you like it or not.

So he is going to find you. And he is going to bring you back, his precious little wife, willingly or in chains.

Feyd arrives on Arrakis, his uncle having already laid siege to the palace at Arrakeen. Feyd has no interest in what happens there. Whether Duke Leto, your mother, and Paul survive or not isn’t his problem. His sole prerogative here is to find you. To reclaim what belongs to him. Because wherever you go, he vows he will always find you, always be watching you.

He has no qualms in torturing the poor Atreides soldiers into giving up your location. Your father sent you off into the desert, it would seem, trusting that you’d be able to survive, while your mother and Paul were taken hostage. Feyd lets out a low snarl, immediately slitting the throat of the soldier who informed him before moving onto the next for information about which Sietch you may try to seek shelter at.

He kills every Atreides, every Fremen who gets in his way. His pursuit is relentless. The winds whip around him, the man in black walking through the dune, but his focus is singular. He is going to find you. His mercenaries follow behind him, his blade already coated with the blood of so many who refused to give you up. And even those who did.

The dune is harsh, unforgiving. You won’t last a day. Feyd knows that. So he counts on you slowing down, needing water which you don’t have. He despises the hold you have on him. He hates how addicted he is to you, how he craves your presence, your love, your affection, your body… He hates the power he’s given you over him. Feyd blames you for his suffering, for this addiction, this obsession. 

This weakness.

He thought he had you eating out of the palm of his hand, and yet you refused to bend to his will. He hates you. He hates you so much. But he hates the thought of losing you even more. Feyd holds a blade to one of the Fremen’s throats, demanding to know if you’ve passed. He’s catching up now, only an hour behind you, stalking you like a lion stalks a gazelle in the savannah. He can almost taste your scent on the wind, the spice in the air making everything so much more pronounced. He wonders if you’re with someone else. A lover perhaps.

No. No, he was your first. He knows that. Feyd continues pushing forward, demanding his mercenaries follow him. It’s burning him up inside, the thought of you with someone else, in their arms, being loved and cared for by them. He won’t let you go. He can’t let you go.

And when he finally catches up to you, finding you in your stillsuit, staggering through a sandstorm, on the brink of collapse, you still try to run from him. Feyd grabs you by the arm, snarling and pulling you toward him angrily, making you stumble against him. You try to resist him and it both infuriates your husband and arouses him. How dare you? After he’s come all this way? He’s come so far for you, and you run.

“Let me go!”

Feyd scoffs, a bitter laugh leaving his lips as he pulls you in even closer, forcing you to face him, “Why should I let go of what belongs to me?”

He drags you back to the thopter waiting nearby, his grip hard on the nape of your neck. He has you gagged and your hands tied, making sure that you’re unable to use the Voice against him, unable to fight. You sit there seething, glaring at him as you begin to make your way back to the Arrakeen palace. Feyd meets your vitriolic stare with one of his own, matching you in intensity. Your glare, your rage. It doesn’t faze him at all.

You’re marched to the grand hall where your father would entertain his guests. All eyes are on you and your husband, watching as he pulls you along while you glower at him. Feyd knows you aren’t entirely confident in your skills using the Voice. That your mother focused more on training your brother than you. So he removes your gag when you reach the chair that once belonged to your father. He smirks, pulling you into his lap, his hand running through your hair. Your anger amuses him, your reactions excite him.

You still look so beautiful, your hair mussed from the desert wind as he rips the stillsuit from your body. You let out a low snarl as you glare up at Feyd, the Harkonnen standing guard nearby. Close enough to wrangle you in if the need arises. Suddenly, he knots his fingers in your hair, tugging harshly, pulling you close to him.

“Did you truly think that you could escape me?” He rasps, practically ripping your undergarments from your body, leaving you bare and vulnerable against him, while he remains fully clothed - a further testament to the power divide between the two of you, “Did you think I would not find you? I will always find you. You’re mine.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss as he bites down on your neck, his fingers moving between your thighs, toying with your wet cunt. He loves the way your body responds to him. Your mouth may lie, say that you don’t want him, that you don’t love him. But your body never does, “I’m not yours.”

Feyd pushes two fingers inside you, making you let out a moan, his breath hot against your ear as he hisses, “Yes, you are.”

He can feel it in the way you squeeze around him, the way your head lolls back against his chest. He can feel it in the way you spill yourself so quickly, your arousal coating his fingertips, which he forces between your lips to lick clean. Feyd turns you around to face him and he can feel it in your eyes, the way you watch him undo his pants, stroking at his cock. You hate him. But you desire him just as much. He moves toward you and you spit at his face, making him let out a dark laugh. Feyd merely grips your jaw, forcing your lips apart and spits, letting it land on your tongue, forcing you to swallow it, asserting his dominance over you.

And while you glare up at him disdainfully, your lips part in a moan of his name as his cock pushes past your folds. He sheathes himself inside you to the hilt, filling you completely. Feyd lifts you up onto the table, pushing you down on your back. He crawls over you and begins to pound into you like a man starved, his grip on your throat bruising, pinning your hands above your head. You feel his lips around one of your nipples, his darkened teeth leaving their stain on your skin.

He draws the filthiest noises from you, the wet squelching noise of your cunt as he moves in and out of it, the screams of his name as he brings you to the edge over and over and over. He’s going to fuck his heir into you tonight. He’d like to see you try to run after that. You reach your peak well before he’s anywhere near finished with you. Feyd pushes your knees up to your chest, his own on either side of your hips, fucking you harder and deeper than ever before. His seed will take tonight. And he will fuck you over and over and over until you learn that you belong to him. You try to turn your face from him, but he holds it in place.

“I want you to look at me,” Feyd rasps, “I want you to look me in the eyes as I spill myself inside of you. That deceitful little tongue of yours can lie, but your eyes cannot. I can see the love you have for me. The hate. And I will take it all because I can bear it. I am the only one who can.”

And so, as he spills himself inside you, his black spend dripping from your cunt, coating your thighs, your eyes remain locked on his. He uses his fingers to push back whatever leaks out back inside you, intent on keeping you here with him. Your overstimulated, sensitive body shivers at the feel of his fingers, but Feyd doesn’t care. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve brought this upon yourself.

Feyd sees how exhausted and utterly spent you look. Using his almost inhuman strength, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you out of the room, shooting a satisfied smirk at all those who have been standing around to hear the… Aftermath of your reunion.

Feyd hates you. But he loves you in equal measure, if not more. And you feel the same for him. You two are bound now. Forever.

Feyd Rautha would understand the gravity of impregnating a member of the Bene Gesserit. The promise of a powerful heir born with the voice and truthsaying abilities meant a stable driving force for House Harkonnen with ties to those closest to The Emperor. But when you grow a swollen stomach, round and full with his child, the political chess moves are far from his mind.

The Na-Baron is obsessed. At first you note his unwillingness to leave your side, refusing to take to the arena and slay Harkonnen prisoners while you are with child. His dual hunting blades gather dust, Feyd choosing instead to pose his aggression against any male Harkonnen that dares look your way.

Usually unaffectionate, Feyd lays claim to you by placing his hands on you often. His palm presses against the swell of your stomach, feeling the tiny kicks of the child inside. It almost makes him more protective, insisting he, alone, protect you.

Seperate from prying eyes, Feyd cannot keep his hands, his lips, off you.

“You witch,” he hisses between heavy kisses, his firm grip hoisting your thighs over his hips, “You have poisoned me— Bewitched me with your Gesserit powers.”

But when Feyd sinks his cock deep inside you, his palms splayed across your swollen stomach, he’s too busy growling out your name to accuse you of sorcery. In truth, Feyd Rautha would readily fill you with his seed again and again to watch you swell with more of his children.

dune masterlist

Birthday Present

Feyd-Rautha x Lady Reader

Synopsis: During a state visit, you, a daughter of one of the great houses, have captured the attention and fatal attraction of the Na-Baron and were quickly turned into his promised wife. 

Warnings: ¿Enemies to Lovers-ish?, Arranged Marriage, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Blood Play, Fingering, Choking, Violence, Murder , Over Stimulation, Not Proofread

Word Count: 5,900 (pls bear with me)

Finally watched Dune: Part Two and needed to make a quick little fic because another psychopath to obsess over with has been unlocked.

You dreaded for this day to come. You begged your father and brother to just leave you in the safety and comfort of your home, but still, they insisted— practically forced you to join them in the business venture they will partake in Giedi Prime. You walked out of the royal ship with your brother by your side, trying hard not to let the frown slip your face, especially when your fine dress had lost its color due to the planet’s black sun. Your eyes trailed around those who were present as a welcoming party for your kin, “Why are they all bald?” You whispered to your brother, who could not help but snort a laugh at your question. It was unnerving to look at them; no warmth nor life was evident. You were escorted inside the palace and it was barely different from the outside, still bleak and dark and plain. 

You feel curious eyes trail you as you walk with your family, who are being escorted to meet Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. You clenched your jaw and held your breath as you were met with the head of House Harkonnen. You heard tales about him and his state, but none could prepare you enough to be met with him face to face. If you had thought his subjects were already unnerving to look at, you would gladly give up the gift of sight just as long as you no longer had to see nor remember the image of the gruesome Baron. You quickly planted your eyes on the ground, having looked enough at the man who floated about in the middle of the room that you had missed the way that dark blue eyes were planted steadily on your frame. 

“Welcome to Giedi Prime, your Grace,” You hear the Baron greet your Duke father, and you stay silent and hope that they would be quick with the pleasantries and let you retire to rest after the long journey to their dreary planet. You hear the baron address your brother, making him step forward, and you pray for your presence to be ignored, but alas, your name was called, and you feel all eyes upon you. “A beauty this one is, your grace… she looks just like her mother,” The Baron mussed, and you could only offer a tight smile at his praise because you had no recollection of what your mother looked like because the price of your life was hers. You backed away and took your place next to your brother once more as the Baron began to introduce his kin. 

“My nephews, Glossu Rabban,” the baron introduced, and your brother nudged you to raise your gaze and show your host respect and recognition. You did as told and locked eyes with the dark blue orbs that had been entranced upon you ever since you entered the throne room. “And Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” You swallowed thickly and turned stiff as the heir to House Harkonnen stepped down and walked toward your direction. Your linked arms with your brother tightened as the Na-Baron paused before you, bowing and taking your hand into his cold ones before placing a kiss on your knuckles. Feyd-Rautha wanted to smirk at the wide-eyed and blushing state he placed you in. The only greeting you gave him was a quick curtsy and a mumble of “My Lord,” The Na-Baron returned to his place at the right hand of his uncle and kept his gaze tranced on you. 

“How long are we to stay here?” You asked your father as he and your brother escorted you to your chambers. “Until the treaties are settled,” your father replied, and you scrunched your nose as the eyes of Harkonnen subjects followed you wherever you went. “They’re all staring at you,” Your brother mumbled, noticing the curious gazes as well. “Maybe they haven’t seen anyone with color or hair yet,” You distractedly said as you looked behind, the pair of dark blue eyes still haunting and following your every move. “Did I really have to come here?” You asked your father with a frown. “Yes. We could not leave you alone for an extended period— what will happen if our planet suddenly goes to war and you were there, left alone?” Your father asked, his protectiveness shining through. “Then I’d be surrounded by our army and best warriors.” You replied and earned a stern look from your father. “What am I even supposed to do here?” You grumbled and ceased by the door of your guest chambers. “You can explore the planet— do some sightseeing.” He answered, but that only severe your frown. “Sightsee what? Everything here is either black or gray— either bleak or depressing” You said, making your father sigh. “Just get ready for dinner,” He said, and you gave up on fighting them and their decision to drag you to the planet. 

A knock sounded out in your barren chambers. You understood that the palace was pushing some kind of aesthetic, but they took it to an extremity. There was literally just a bed and an armchair in your chambers. A very stark difference from your own room or even the guest chambers in your planet’s palace. Your handmaid opened the door whilst you looked at yourself in the mirror; you were to be escorted by your brother and were expecting him by the door, but hearing the gasp from your handmaid told you otherwise. You looked toward the chamber room door and saw the Na-Baron standing by its threshold; your maid stood by the side, head hung low, and was quietly trembling in fear. 

“Can we help you, Na-Baron?” You asked and smoothened the fabric of your gown. Trying your best not to appear unnerved by his dark gaze or his imposing demeanor. “I am to escort you to the dining room, my lady,” He said and offered his arm for you to take; you made no move to do so. “Oh…my brother was—“ you slightly frown as he cuts you off. “He is already there with your father,” He said, and you licked your lips and hesitantly nodded, having no choice but to take his offer to escort you. 

Feyd eyes curiously at the gown you fashioned and the decorations in your hair. You were a deep and vivid contrast between him and his planet. Your dress made of velvet trained behind you, the heavy and overflowing cloth cutting through the silence between you and the heir of House Harkonnen. You did not know if you should converse with him or just remain silent. And if you did choose the former, what topic of conversation would you even propose to the fearsome— psychotic warrior that is the Na-Baron? 

“How are you finding Giedi Prime, my lady?” His deep and raspy voice cut through the silence, and you thought of an embellished reply that would not offend the warrior. “Different… I— it is most unique, Na-Baron,” You manage to say after a short while, Feyd noting how you struggled to give a kind reply, your brows in a furrow, and your lips would open and close as you thought of what to say. 

You finally could breathe freely, and your stiffened form turned lax when the Na-Baron escorted you to your seat next to your brother and let go of his hold on your hand. You tried your best to keep your gaze away from any of the Harkonnens as you feared they would immediately see the fear and agitation in your eyes. “Is this human?” You lowly whispered to your brother, poking the cut of unidentified meat on your plate. Feyd smirked to himself as he heard the fear in your voice— overly wary, and it would seem the tales of their house had been implanted in your pretty little head. “It is cattle, my lady… but if you do prefer human flesh, our cooks could arrange that for you,” Feyd-Rautha relished at how your eyes widened and your cheeks blossomed with color once more. It was an interesting reaction that he had never been accustomed to see. “No, this is fine,” You quickly said and did not miss the amused smirk on the Na-Baron’s pale lips. 

The following day, you were set to tour around the planet with your brother along with the Na-Baron. You three had just stepped out of the palace and into the light of the black sun when your brother was suddenly summoned to attend the negotiations. You took a sharp breath and turned to your sibling, widening your eyes and silently willing him not to leave you alone in the presence of the Na-Baron. Your brother could only shrug and place a quick, chaste kiss on the top of your head as he ran back inside the castle walls. 

An awkward and uneasy silence followed you and your host as the tour began. Guards following the both of you in the direction of a large structure— that is as specific as you can get as the resident of the planet has still said no word as to where he was leading you. 

“This… is the arena,” the Na-Baron finally said, and you could hear the delight in his tone as if the brutal and triangular infrastructure had brought him calm and serenity. You nodded your head and wandered your eyes upon the high walls and countless seats that surrounded you. “You shall return here soon enough, a special celebration to take place in a few days,” You hear him say as your gaze was still stuck high above where you were guessing private boxes were placed. When Feyd did not hear your reply, he stepped closer and boldly placed a hand on your waist, making you jump in shock and quickly step away. “You don’t talk much, do you?” He asked. He usually was quiet, only speaking when he thought it necessary and the silence he provided brought an additional sense of mystery to him. But with you… he could not restrain himself as he felt the want— the need to speak. An urge he had never had before, an urge he could not control. 

“I prefer more to listen, my lord,” you answered, a white lie on your lips. You love to talk and blab about anything and everything, but you just did not want to exercise such habits with or around him, fearing he’ll grow annoyed by your yapping and slit your throat— a habit you heard he was fond of. You heard the Na-baron hum, and you avoided his gaze as he stared you down, as if trying to deduce if what you had said was the truth.

You followed the Na-Baron as he led you to more sights and structures that the Harkonnens take pride in. But everywhere you two went, you could not be rid of the curious and wondering gazes that followed. It was not a new scene; being a duke’s daughter meant you had been accustomed and exposed to the public. But being exposed and stared at and gawked at by people so different than you felt entirely unnerving. It made your skin crawl and your body tense uncomfortably. Your once proud and straight stature turned demure and small as you walked the dark and gray halls of the castle, you being the only thing of color and vividness in there, making you feel out of place and suffocated by the plainness.  

The Na-Baron escorted you back to the guest wing and paused by your door; you quickly curtsied and disappeared behind the metal doors to finally put some space and distance between you and the lord you had been forced to spend the day with. Feyd’s jaw clenched as the metal doors closed upon him; if it were anyone else, his patience would have run thin, and he would not looked kindly upon your impertinence. But even in your boorish actions, the Na-Baron could not help but find it amusing— possibly even endearing. 

As you were finished being prepared for yet another dinner, you turned to the doors once more at the sound of the opening, revealing your brother. “How was the tour?” He asked and sat by your bed as you stood in the mirror and adorned yourself with the precious metals and jewels. “When are we to leave? I… I would very much like to return home.” Was your reply as you still felt your skin crawl at how the eyes of the Na-Baron would asses you and your every move. “That bad, huh?” Your brother mused, and you sighed heavily. “I do not like it here, brother… I cannot… this place is entirely bleak and depressing.” You reasoned, and your brother only shook his head at your bellyaching. 

“They barely even have furniture! Their sun is black… there are no gardens or greenery and flowers to admire— I am quite literally the most vivid thing here!” You suddenly exploded, but your brother could only laugh. “Just a few more days, sister… we were most productive earlier. You’ll only have to endure this planet and its plainness for a few days more,” Your brother said, and you solemnly nodded your head, willing yourself to endure and be patient as your whole being wanted nothing but to return home. 

True to the Na-Baron’s words, you and your kin were in the triangular arena a few days later. A grand celebration for the birthday of the heir of House Harkonnen. Feyd-Rautha stepped out into the black sun and walked onto the pit with the screams and cheers of his house’s subjects. His eyes cast above and searched for only one being— an attention he seeks to be entranced upon him. The Na-Baron felt his lips curl wickedly as your eyes were upon him, seated in the royal box next to your brother. Your expression trying not to show contempt or disapproval. The Na-Baron was known for his skills in fighting— he is the greatest warrior there is. Everyone was impressed and in awe by his skills in combat, and he was certain that it, too, would impress you. 

You clenched your jaw and turned your head to the side as the Na-Baron was relentless in fighting the remaining members of House Atreides. You planted your gaze on your lap and fisted the fabric of your dress as you hear the land of steel and the grunts of prisoners. You took a deep inhale as your brother nudged you once more, urging you to watch the scene as it would be an offense if the Baron caught you ignoring the efforts of his favored nephew. You swallowed thickly and returned your eyes towards the men who fought; there was only one opponent now. 

Feyd-Rautha returned his gaze to you, delighting as you still had your eyes upon him. There was only one prisoner now, only one more man between him and the amazement he thought he would garner from you with his violent display. But as Feyd-Rautha set his eye on the final prisoner, his jaw ticked, and his hold on his blade tightened as he noticed that the Atreides prisoner was not drugged. He turned his spiteful gaze to his uncle, the vile man simply smirking and giving a nod of his head. Dark blue eyes flickered at you, who had her lip between he teeth in anxiousness. The Na-Baron squared his shoulders and refocused; he could not be made a fool nor a failure when the eyes of his planet were upon him— not when your eyes were upon him. As always, Feyd-Rautha emerged victorious in battle. 

“The slave wasn’t drugged,” Feyd said as he stood before his uncle, his form rigged still with the pestering feeling that he might have failed and been humiliated under your gaze. You tried to kill me?” he gritted out, but his uncle was merely amused. “Tonight, you are a hero… my gift to you,” The Baron explained, but that did not sedate the rage in the Na-Baron’s being. “I ought to drown you in that tub,” he snarled, but his uncle chuckled at his threat. “Don’t be hasty… I have another gift for you,” that piqued Feyd’s interest. “A bigger one,” his uncle added. “The girl, the duke’s daughter.” With just the mention of you, the Baron noted the quick shift in his nephew’s temperament. Desire shining through his rage. 

Feyd’s lips staggered as he thought of a reply, as he thought of how his uncle was able to acquire you for him as if you were some mere whore and not a daughter of one of the great houses. “Her father approved?” He asked and saw as a smirk rose to the lips of his uncle. “He had no choice but to… if he wanted the treaties to take place and for war to not come to their planet— he must offer his daughter to you.” Feyd let a rare and sincere grin slip his lips with the thought of you being bound to him. 

By the guest wing, an ugly discussion was taking place. “Father, you cannot be serious,” You all but cried, “To that psychotic Na-Baron!?” You screamed with tears streaming down your face. You knew it; you knew coming to Giedi Prime was a mistake— your intuition warned you greatly, but you ignored it and complied with your father’s wishes and orders. “There was no other way. I’m sorry,” Your father sighed and tried to take hold of you to calm you down. “You would leave me here to be his bride? You would leave me here vulnerable in the desolate walls of these Harkonnens?” You cried in pain, but your expression turned confused as your father shook his head. 

“The Na-Baron, your betrothed, will be heir to Arakis… you shall stay and rule there with him.” You hear the hopeful tone in your father’s voice as he tells you that you will be the lady of the most coveted seat and planet in the universe. “You… you cannot do this to me— please do not do this to me, father, I beg of you,” You cried, only crying harder as your father took you into his arms and offered you his apologies once more. Nothing can be done; you were now promised to the fearsome and formidable Na-Baron. 

They arranged for you to acquaint yourself more with your soon-to-be husband. Servants of House Harkonnen escorted you to him, and you followed mindlessly, but your stomach pitted in fear as you realized you had been led to the Na-Baron’s chambers. Your lips agape, and looked behind to see the servants hurriedly shuffling out of the Na-Baron’s room. You felt yourself grow cold and the life in your face went pale. You cautiously looked around the chambers and saw three women by your right, dressed and styled differently than the servants. The presence of women used to always bring you comfort in uncertain scenarios, but the three present did not aid your raging fear. 

“What’s so special about her?” You hear one of them drawl to the other, and you feel your lips upturn in confused fear. “Such a pitiful thing… weak and so fragile, could not even stomach to watch our lord handsomely fighting those puny slaves,” You frown and finally turn to them, the three just as eerie and disturbing to look at as any of their people, maybe even more so. “So what does she have to be rewarded with our great master Feyd-Rautha?” A third girl asked, and that is when you realized what their roles were. They looked at you expectantly, trying to know what you possessed to be rewarded or punished with the title of the Na-Baron’s betrothed. “I do not know,” you began, “Perhaps hair? Or sanity? Take your pick.” You boldly replied and watched as their teasing and amused looks turned scathing and jealous. Before any of them could make another remark, the sound of the door opening and boots walking the floor echoed through the room. Your expression was hard as you watched the three girls lower their heads demurely and out of respect as their master entered. 

“Ah, my future wife… I see you have met my darlings,” You turned to your betrothed, a smirk on his lips and his dark eyes sickeningly delighted as he was in a room filled with women he was certain would bring him much pleasure. You licked your lips and crossed your arms across your chest, your gaze flying to the three women who brazenly insulted you just mere moments ago. “You whores,” You boldly stated and let a fleeting smirk fly to your lips as you heard them hiss at your true statement. “My darlings.” Feyd-Rauth corrected, defending his loyal pets. You hummed and nodded your head. Finally, matching the fiery gaze of the Na-Baron. Every second you held his gaze, Feyd felt himself tighten against his trousers. You had always shielded your gaze from him, never letting him stare deep into those enchanting and lively eyes, and now that he did, all he wanted to do was stare into them, watch as tears would form when he made you cry in pleasure. 

“I always thought whores are acquired after marriage, but I suppose the Na-Baron is always one step ahead,” You bitterly mused at the man across from you, expecting him to grow enraged as you called his ‘darlings’ whores once more. But instead of rage, you only saw the smirk on the Na-Baron’s lips widen. “Are you jealous, little wife?” He asked and threaded closer, you let a frown slip your pretty face and a scoff left your lips. “Do not call me that,” You gritted. “And no, I am not… in all honesty, I am relieved in their existence if it means that you would be preoccupied and far from me and my bed; you could have a hundred ‘darlings’ for all I care,”  You stood your ground no matter how your mind went alarmed at the murderous look on your betrothed’s once amused expression. 

You chewed your cheeks as the Na-Baron silently motioned for the three women to step closer. You thought he was testing you, to see if you were truly unbothered and not at all jealous that your future husband was being satisfied by other women, but you gasped in horror as Feyd-Rautha swiftly took his dagger and slit the throats of his three pets. They fell at your feet, and you could only watch and step back in horror at the scene of black blood pooling and spewing from their throats. You were trembling, and Feyd-Rautha took you into his arms, forcing your face to look at him, enjoying the horror in your eyes. “Now, nothing will keep me from you and your bed, wife,” he lowly whispered, and you were defenseless as he captured your lips. Hungrily kissing you and pulling you impossibly closer to him to feel the softness of your frame as blood flooded under your feet. 

All was quick to fall into place. One moment, it was announced you were to be wed to the heir of House Harkonnen, and the next, you were being prepared for the actual ceremonies. You felt bile rising and tears falling as you stared at yourself in the mirror. A gown of white in the make and design of your home planet rather than the fashion of Giedi Prime. “You look beautiful, sister,” Your brother complimented quietly. He, too, turned solemn as he had no way to protect you from the arrangements made behind closed doors. “Let’s just get this over with,” You mumbled and took his arm for what you believed would be the last time. 

You were being escorted down the aisle by your father,  Feyd-Rautha’s eyes upon you impatiently; he could no longer wait any further and suffer through the ceremonies and banquets before he had you alone in his chambers. After your kiss two nights prior, you quickly left the chambers and left the Na-Baron to want and desire more. Each moment that had passed has left him hard and strained, with no other outlet for his needs to be quenched and met; his only choice was to wait for you to be his wife. 

It should shame you to admit, but the kiss you shared with the Na-Baron didn’t leave you disgusted. It was alarming to note that your body had turned warm, and throughout the night, your thoughts strayed to wanting more. You had been kissed before, once, but it was nothing compared to the way Feyd-Rautha kissed your lips. 

You stood by his side as a man in front spoke in a language you could not comprehend or understand. The only thing your mind could focus on was the way the Na-Baron’s hand held yours. Cold and calloused palms enclosed around warm and soft ones. You raised your gaze as the man in front of the two of you finally spoke words you understood, announcing to the room that you and the Na-Baron were officially husband and wife. You set your eyes upon Feyd-Rautha, whose dark eyes were on your lips. Letting go of your hand and taking hold of your face to kiss your lips without warning. It was a quicker kiss than the one shared the previous night, and you were dismayed yourself as your body wanted more, so much more. 

Feyd smirked as he saw color bloom onto your cheeks and felt its warmness against his cold touch. No word was exchanged as he escorted you through the aisle, the cheers of his subjects ringing loudly; absent were the reactions of you and your kin. You were still silent during the banquet, only offering a ghost of a smile when you two were approached and presented with ‘congratulations.’ You tried to ignore the way your body responded when your husband placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze now and then through the fabric of your gown. “You look ravishing, my darling,” You hear him whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending a chill down your spine. 

“Do not call me that,” you gritted as you had no wish to share an endearment he used with his whores. Feyd smirked as he believed that heard a hint of jealousy in your honey voice, “And what would you like to be called, wife?” He asked, and you clenched your jaw and thighs as that brought a surprising twist in your core. Your reaction was not missed by the Na-Baron, a wicked smirk spreading to his lips and his hand inching higher from your thigh. “Tell me, wife… are you too as excited as I am for the bedding?” He teased and nipped your ear, making you gasp, turning to him with shock and wanting-filled eyes. Your eyes shifted from his dark blue orbs to his plush lips, and the desire for it to be against you became increasingly prominent. You gulped as his eyes turned impossibly darker and his jaw clenched, you took a sharp intake of breath as he abruptly stood. “The feast is finished, leave.” That was all he said before he urged you to stand and dragged you to his chambers. 

You were like putty in his arms as he pushed you up against the cold wall of his chambers. Your lips roughly danced against each other, and his hands hiked up your wedding dress, leaving fire with his cold touch. For days, you had convinced yourself you felt no attraction to the man who had his lips on you’re neck and hand against your cunt. “You are a great actress, wife. Making me believe you hated me— wanted nothing to do with me, but that cannot be true, not when your cunt is so wet and ready for me.” You gasped as he inserted his finger inside you without warning— the feeling foreign, and you did not know if you should embrace the uncomfortability or the prospect that pleasure was quick to bloom. “So tight… my little wife had never been defiled— that shall change,” He mused against your lips, swallowing your whine when he inserted another finger inside your wet cunt. 

“M-My lord,” You cried at the curl of his finger; you heard him ‘tsk’ and rub his thumb against the sensitive bundles of nerves on your cunt. “Enough with the formalities. I am your husband, and you will call me by my name— you will scream my name when you come.” Your eyes rolled back as his other hand clasped around your neck, your husband thrilled and overjoyed as you only clenched tightly around him, and a pleasured moan slipped past your lips. He thought he’d have to be gentle with you— that he would scare you with his savage desires, but as he felt you cling and clench to him as he added more pressure around your throat, he knew you would be able to take and would be grateful for his brazenness in fucking. 

“Feyd… Feyd!” You cried as you felt your thighs tremble and your core painfully twists in want of release. You whined and cried as you felt his fingers slip out of you, your knees weak and your body desperate for release. “Patience, little wife,” Your husband cruelly mussed, his eyes locked upon you as he licked the essence of you clean from his fingers. You moaned as his lips met yours again, tasting yourself as his tongue teased yours. You whimpered as he placed his rough hands tights on your hips, imprinting his mark and making it known to you that he was yours. You groaned as he bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, him pulling away to admire the red the beaded on your plump, sweet lips. “Such a pretty color…” he murmured and bought his finger to wipe away the blood and taste it, you growing more aroused as a rumble emerged from his throat. Feyd watched as more blood dripped from your lips, and he wasted not a drop of it, kissing and tasting all of you. 

Feyd moved the two of you to his bed, pushing you down on the soft, silk-coved mattress. You swallowed thickly as he took out his dagger once more, a grin on his lips as he saw a speck of fear in your eyes. “Such a beauty you look in this dress… but I know you’ll look better without it,” He took the dagger and cut through your fine gown, nicking your stomach on the way. Feyd zeroed in on your sweet blood once more, his eyes hungrily taking in your body that was now exposed to him. “Oh…” You moaned as his tongue soothed the cut he made, his tongue teasing you as it would thread lower but would return to the cut every time it oozed blood. “Feyd… please,” You finally relinquished and let your needs be known. He hummed as his cock grew harder at your moans. 

“What do you want, little wife?” he hummed and took a deep breath of your scent. You whined as his tongue teased your navel, and his lips threaded further south but quickly moved north again. You moaned as his black teeth gently bit your bosom, his cold hand pawing at the other, your nipples taut by his cold hand and hot tongue. “Tell me, little wife, what do you want?” You whimpered again as nipped your skin once more, “You. I… I want you,” You finally said and yelled when Feyd flipped you to your stomach. Anticipation sat heavily as you heard him shuffling to remove his clothing. You breathed harshly as you felt his hands on your behind, kneading the smooth, plump flesh; his thumb teasingly brushed your cunt, and you were quick to moan. 

“What did you want again, my pretty wife?” He hummed by your ear, his toned body pressing against your back, his throbbing cock resting on your derrière. “You, I want you. Please, Feyd… I— please just fuck me,” You cried and let go of any pride you had in exchange for feeling pleasure. You howled as his thick and large length pushed its way inside you. Feyd hissing as the tip of his cock was being squeezed by your cunt. You were wet, galaxies, you were wet. But not wet enough for your husband’s cock to slip inside comfortably. Friction and resistance were prominent, and Feyd enjoyed that tremendously. Excruciating pain first had to be felt before you could feel the pleasure that you were desperate for. 

You gasped and felt tears rim your eyes as a cold hand found home around your neck again. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Feyd hissed as he fully sheathed himself inside you; his hand felt the trickle of pained tears, and he was determined to turn it into tears of pleasure. “Such a good wife taking all of me,” He praised and squeezed your neck tighter. You whimpered and raised your gaze, only now noticing that the wall that your husband’s bed rested upon was entirely reflective that you could see him in all of his glory. Knelt behind you and a pleasured expression on his face as he gradually moved his length in and out of you. 

It felt like eons before you finally felt pleasure, but when it finally came, it was the most blissful feeling you had experienced in your life. The way he harshly gripped your throat, the way that his lips would pepper kisses on your shoulders and back, was enough to quickly drive you into climax. One where you screamed and called for his name, begging him to slow down, but he did no such thing. Only increased his speed and moved his hand to draw circles upon your bundle of nerves, coaxing another climax from you, making you scream his name louder and your body over-sensitive. “Feyd, Feyd, no more, please,” You cried as your whole body was already exhausted and trembling. 

“I do not understand you, wife. Just earlier, you were begging for this… you were begging to be fucked by me.” He grunted as he, too, felt his peak to come. He moved his hands to bundle your hair, the texture so soft and foreign, his fingers running through the locks and pulling it to make you groan. “Such a perfect cunt, such a perfect wife. You will sire me many heirs… you will always be my side.” Feyd groaned as you squeezed his length tighter and tighter to the point he felt pleasurable pain. You hear his animalistic growl when he finally spills himself deep inside of you, watching through the reflective wall as his face contorted into sheer pleasure, his rasping voice repeating your name as you feel both of your essences drip on the inside of your thigh.

He moved your head for your lips to meet with his again, him biting down to draw blood once more. You pulled away and gasped for air as well as gasped in shock as you felt his once limped and just emptied length grow erect inside you. “Did you truly think we were finished?” He asked against your lips. “I’m going to fuck and breed you until you’re unable to walk, little wife.”

𝓢𝓸𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓭

Feyd Rautha x Concubine Reader

Summary: Na-Baron never felt such hunger as when he was with her. He wanted to own her body and soul in every way. And she was more than happy to let him do anything he wanted.

A/N: This was essentially based on my fantasies and desire for Feyd Rauth, so forgive me if his characterization is not identical to movies or books. But nevertheless, I hope you will like it and you'll enjoy reading it.

Please remember that english is not my native language and mistakes can happen.

Story is a heavy smut , minors do not interact.  

-Don't take your eyes off the mirror, don't you dare turn away - he growled into her ear , biting her lobe seconds later, as his hands assaulted her exhausted flesh.

She thought she felt him on every inch of her body.

Her neck , her breasts , her shoulders , her ribs , her hips , her thighs , her calves. On each of them there was an invisible mark in the shape of na-Baron's hand that burned her skin so pleasantly that she never wanted the feeling to go away.

-Whatever you want…whatever you want my na-Baron - she mewled, focusing her gaze on the man behind her, on the way his once-blue eyes immerse into a darkness of desire, on the way the veins on his hands pulsed intensely and on the way the muscles under his skin tightened with every movement of his pale body.

-What did I tell you so many times before? - he said , in a dangerously low and cold tone , suddenly grabbing her by her neck , placing his long fingers on her jaw to point her face in his direction -In this chambers you will call me Feyd , when I tear off your clothes you will call me Feyd , when I push you against the wall and fuck you until your body submits to my will, you shall call me Feyd - he purred, looking intensely into her eyes, which held so much love for him that it made him obsessed with her more and more.

-Forgive me Feyd - she whispered into his mouth , letting her head fall on the man's broad shoulder.

-You want my forgiveness? - he asked , running his thumb over her full, reddened lips - Then beg - he demanded , tightening the grip on her throat.

-Feyd..ah! - she moaned as he slid his thick shaft out of her tight, hot canal only to push it back in, this time much more aggressively and deeply, making head of his member kiss her cervix.

-I'm waiting, darling - he growled, kissing the left side of her face, never stopping the torturous movements of his hips, which made her unable to form a single word -Is this how you want to beg for my forgiveness? I expected more from you - he confessed , inhaling her intoxicating scent.

-No...no - she denied , grabbing his large hand , which held her waist in a possessive grip , desperately trying to focus , at least for a moment - Please...forgive me Feyd...forgive me I beg you...I need you...oh I need you so much - she cried out , grabbing the nape of his neck with her other hand , trying to taste his lips - Please...I need you more than air...I need you Feyd - she mumbled , looking at him with half-closed eyelids , feeling that another orgasm was approaching inexorably to deprive her of the rest of control she had left.

Harkonnen in response joined their lips together , kissing her deeply , wrapping his tongue around hers , running his teeth over her lower lip ,biting it hard enough to taste her sweet blood on his taste buds , while his loins slammed roughly into her , making his manhood abuse her insides , reaching so deep that stars appeared in front of her eyes and her legs began to twitch uncontrollably , threatening to make her fall.

Feyd ,feeling his lover cumming and squeezing his member so intensely that he could not move , growled like an enraged beast , biting her shoulder , thrusting his hips against her , despite the resistance , marking her walls with black cum that dribbled lazily from her swollen folds , directly onto her wet inner thighs.

-My sweet pet - he said into the hollow of her neck , sliding his hand over her body trembling from orgasm -What did I tell you at the beginning? - he asked , massaging her ample breasts that were spilling between his fingers.

Woman looked at him with clouded eyes , fanatically trying to remember.

-Don't take your eyes off the mirror, don't you dare turn away - she whispered hesitantly , returning her gaze to the mirror , but it was too late.

-You seem to be breaking every single order of mine - he observed, trailing his hand along her curvy body - Maybe I should break you , so that you learn to obey me - he wondered, suddenly grabbing her long hair, positioning her head so that she was looking at her reflection and nothing else.

-Lord Feyd…-she began but was not given the chance to finish , when na-Baron attacked her exhausted body.

He tore out of her orgasm after orgasm. He pounded inside her more brutally and deeply with each climax, until his sweet girl was barely awake , full of his black, thick cum.

-I'm not done with you yet pet- he growled , pushing her onto black ,satin sheets.

The woman's body sank onto the mattress without a shadow of an objection. Her heart rumbled in her ears , while her lungs greedily took in air that hot and heavy made her consciousness slip between her fingers leaving behind a shell of her former self.

And in Feyd Rautha's opinion, his eyes have never seen anything more beautiful and sinful.

His hands were restless , touching her legs with the precision of a hunter who had captured his prey , and was now ready to feast . His mouth tasted her skin , savoring the softness and firmness of it. But he did not stop at her legs , no , he went higher , higher and higher , until his blue eyes rested on puffy womanhood , red from overwhelming pleasure and dirty from the amount of harkonnen cum that poured out of her center in excessive amounts.

His tongue ran along her folds , stopping at her clit, kissing and sucking it, making the woman trap him in a cage of her thighs, which he gladly accepted, embracing her hips, drawing her even closer to his pale face , making her scream.

His hunger was uncontrollable.

He feasted on her for hours, his mouth never stopping, too intoxicated by the addictive taste, that was dripping out of her, marking his face in the transparent liquid that he drank like nectar.

And when he finally was done , her mind was no longer present , and her body no longer listened to her. She was breathing heavily , her sweaty, naked body was shivering , while her doe eyes follow the man above her. Only when he chose to leave her bed , she decided to close them , welcoming the pleasant darkness.

But he didn't leave the chambers , he didn't go to the rest of his concubines like he had a habit of doing , no. Instead he returned to her , taking her limp body in his strong arms , hiding her from harsh outside world , stroking her naked back , while his lips kissed her cheeks decorated with dried tears.

-Mine - he whispered into her soft skin - Mine and mine alone.

Power

Feyd Rautha X Y/N - drabble - 1.3K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, murder, the Voice, Feyd being Feyd, some soft moments, some kinda psycho moments, implied sex but nothing NSFW, smack talk

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“Good morning my love.” you said as you hugged Feyd from behind as he finished dressing. You rested your head on his broad back, breathing him in.

He smiled softly to himself before turning around in your grasp. “Hello darling.” he said before bending down and picking you up, wrapping your thighs around his waist. He set you down on the bathroom counter, you pulled back to kiss him sleepily.

You hummed in content as he returned your affection, “I love you.” you said to him as you started to wake up fully.

He moved your legs apart to stand between them, caressing your hips slowly. “I have to meet with Rabban and the Baron today. Arrakis is proving to be more difficult than we anticipated.” he sighed.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” you whined as you trailed your hands to his waistband, running your finger along the inside barely.

Feyd sighed, leaning his head against your shoulder. You had not been long married but you adored each other. He felt lucky to have you, and you felt the same. You got to see a Feyd no one else saw. “I must, my sweet.” he said, tilting your chin up so he could kiss you slowly.

You nodded, smiling brightly at him. He moved to walk away but you tugged him back once more to indulge yourself in one final kiss. “I love you.” He whispered.You smiled cheekily as he gave your hand a squeeze before leaving. You sighed watching him walk away; you loved him endlessly.

You hopped off the counter, calling for your maids. They dressed you in your typical pastels. You adorned your black necklace, the same one Feyd wore so everyone could identify you as the Na-Baroness. You wandered the halls of the palace mostly, finding solace in the quiet. You spent a good amount of time in the library as well, finding the books Harkonnens chose to keep around rather interesting. A lot of histories surprisingly. The closer you wandered to the Great Hall the more you heard other voices. You approached a cracked door, hearing the generals inside speak.

“She hardly acts like a Na-Baroness. She is not a Harkonnen, she will never be a Harkonnen. Any child that blooms from her will be weak. A disgrace to the Na-Baron.” one said with venom in his voice.

“She does not even use her skills as a Bene Gesserit, she dishonors everything she touches.” another spat.

Your eyes held hot tears which streamed down your face the moment you turned to leave. The door swung open before you could walk away, knocking you to the ground. The generals stood above you, the larger one scoffed “See? Weak, licentious.”. Their gazes held such malcontent towards you, it burned your very soul. You rushed back to your chambers, throwing yourself into bed before you curled into a ball. You knew when you married Feyd some found you too different to become a Harkonnen. You were the embodiment of your planet: peaceful, bright, colorful, calm, loving. All traits Feyd loved you for, as he had never known such things. It is why he picked you out of all the brides offered to him. You fell asleep crying, wishing the people of Geidi Prime could see you, truly see you..

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Feyd returned to your shared chambers. He smiled softly when he saw you curled up, until he saw the streak marks on your cheeks. You had obviously been crying for hours. Feyd caressed your cheeks, slowly waking you up.

“What is it my darling?” He said gruffly.

Your eyes immediately watered for a second time that day, “Nothing.” You sighed trying to not let tears spill.

“You have always been a terrible liar.” He said, making you smirk for a second.

“I just wish Harkonnens liked me more…” you said, grasping his hand, smoothing your fingers over his knuckles to calm your anxiety.

Feyd’s face bunched up in confusion, “What?” He said.

“I overheard some generals today… they think I’m weak, that I’m not worthy of being your Na-Baroness… what if they’re right?” You said, shifting closer to rest your head on his chest.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, “Don’t say that, don’t even think it.” He said, you could feel the sadness behind his words.

You nodded, leaning up to kiss his neck. He hummed in pleasure. “Would you… recognize these men again?” He moaned out breathlessly as you began to kiss down his body.

You nodded wordlessly, coming back up to his face. “I’ll give you their hearts.” He said, smiling coldly.

Something about the look in his eyes lit a fire in you, “They want me to be a Harkonnen, let me give them Harkonnen justice.” You said.

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You stood in the Great Hall, all of Feyd’s generals lined up before you. You sat formidably on the throne before them, right on Feyd’s lap. You could see the contempt in the two generals eyes before you whispered to Feyd which men it was. Everyone else was dismissed, leaving the four of you in the vast hall.

“It has come to my attention that you both refuse to acknowledge the ascension of the Na-Baroness. Is this true?” Feyd asked in a cold, flat tone.

The generals fumbled; shaking their heads while uttering denials. You sighed, throwing your legs over before standing up and walking down the steps. You were two steps above the main floor, they looked up to you.

“Speak the truth.” You said softly.

“Nothing of the sort has occurred Na-Baron.” One said, sending you a sideways glance. As if Feyd would believe them over you.

“KNEEL, BOTH OF YOU.” You said using the Voice. They wanted a Harkonnen Na-Baroness, you were going to give them one. One who took advantage of all powers they possessed.

The men knelt before you, you walked closer grabbing one’s face harshly. You could see in his eyes how much he hated you. How much he wanted to fight back.

“SPEAK THE TRUTH.” You commanded, the Voice reverberating through the hall.

The men spoke without control, rambling about how you were unworthy of being the Na-Baroness. About how soft you were, how you were unable to conform to Harkonnen ways.

Silence fell over the room, you released the man’s face roughly. You made your way back to the throne, speaking as you went, “You believe I am soft. And you’d be right. I am merciful.”

You looked at them once you reached Feyd, reaching for his hand before you settled on his lap again. “But you do not wish for mercy. You wish for a Na-Baroness who follows the Harkonnen ways.” You kissed Feyd’s neck up to his cheek before looking back to the men. “I wish to bathe in red. Run me a bath.” You said.

The men looked between each other, confused. “CUT OUT YOUR HEARTS.” You commanded.

You and Feyd watched in delight, the men fighting against themselves to no avail. Cutting deep into their chests you would never forget the sound of their ribs cracking as they reached inside their chests, ripping their still beating hearts from themselves. You watched them fall, hearts in hand. The pool of blood grew by the second.

You called for a servant, who looked horrified at the mess, never knowing you to do something like this. “Yes Na-Baroness?” They said softly with their head down.

You didn’t like their fear, but you liked the respect and power you had over them. “Preserve their hearts for me. Bring them to our chambers.” You ordered.

The woman nodded, scurrying out of the Great Hall. “We should return to our chambers.” Feyd whispered into the crook of your neck.

“Oh? And why’s that?” You said, meeting his gaze.

“Because I have never wanted you more than I do right now.” He breathed out, nipping at your neck as his hands smoothed over your hips and thighs.

You moaned leaning back into him, “Take me here Na-Baron. Take me on your throne.” You kissed his lips before moving to straddle him.

“As you wish, Na-Baroness.” He said before pulling your dress open, attaching his lips to your chest.

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Naboo’s Note:

Hey! Thanks for reading! I loved writing this one it was based off a request. Sorry the post is a bit late, work got real crazy. Let me know if yall enjoy it! Love yall xoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxo