Ooo For The Blurb Can I Please Request A George Weasley X Fem!muggle!reader Where She Is Really Shy,

Don't Touch What’s His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: Feyd's harpies attack you while you're both asleep in his bed and he gets real mad.

Notes/Warnings: mention of blood and mutilation, inflicted wounds, and possessiveness. Related to the fic titled His, but this can be read alone. Typos (just being real)

Words: 1100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You’re screaming for him before you’re even fully awake, shrieking his name before you can begin to grasp what’s happening to you. All you know is that you’re no longer warm, no longer safe as you’re yanked from his arms and dragged to the bottom edge of the bed. Claws are digging into your calf as primal grumbles and growls and the distinct sound of lips smacking in anticipation reach your ears. Your body is being pulled further and further away, and no pawing at the sheets helps to keep you on the mattress.

Another plea for him is on the tip of your tongue, but then a hand wraps around your arm, engaging in a tug-of-war with whatever monster has a hold on you. Scrapes make lines down your leg as you dig your heels into the bed and back yourself away from the clawed being. You take a few deep breaths and blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“I told you she’s off limits!” Feyd shouts in a terrifying tone. A tone most commonly reserved for those who inconvenience him: servants and prisoners and his brother. It’s not his low timbre; it’s much more powerful. So powerful that you half-expect a crack to split open the floor.

You blink again and crane your neck to peer over the foot of the bed at who he scolds. Feyd’s harpies are on their hands and knees, staring a hole into your head. It’s a daring choice. When Feyd speaks, those around must be attentive with eyes and ears, but the harpies don’t so much as glance in his direction. They’re here for you, they want you, and clearly nothing else.

“But she looks so yummy,” one of them says, a pout forming on her lips.

“And she smells even better,” the second adds. Her tongue swipes over a sharpened fang.

All three of them begin to crawl across the floor until they’re at your side of the bed. Feyd’s fingers tighten around your arm, his eyes narrowing, and you lean back against his chest just in case they get the idea to lunge at you.

“We won’t eat very much of her,” the third purrs as her hand slithers over the silky sheets, inching toward your body. “Just a few little bites. Plenty left over for our lord na-baron to enjoy.”

When her pointed nails graze your ankle, Feyd leans around you, grabs her wrist, and sharply twists until there's a snap. She yelps. Your body jolts. Tears build in the corners of her eyes. Your jaw drops.

Immediately, they appear to sober up. Their hunger, if still there, doesn’t lust for you so intensely now that fear has taken over.

“You will not sink your filthy fangs into her,” Feyd spits, baring his teeth. “She’s mine. Her flesh, her blood, all of her—mine.” The other two harpies shrink and skitter away from their injured sister. “If I wanted to share, I would have.”

Feyd releases his harpy. She cradles her broken wrist, whimpers emitting from her throat as she scoots back to join the others. They feel safer in a pack. Though you don’t think that will aid them in this case.

“W-We just thought she wouldn’t matter to you,” one of them mutters, her chin tucked to her chest. “We thought you could find another plaything.”

Feyd’s face darkens. The icy blue of his glare wavers under the force of a burning red. As he moves to stand, he jerks you to his side of the bed, separating you from the beastly women by a few more feet.

“What did you just say to me?” he grits out, rounding the mattress and stopping in front of them.

The harpies glance at each other in panic before looking back at their master. “W-We didn't mean–”

“It appears I’ve treated you too well,” he says decisively. “If you’re bold enough to defy my orders, then perhaps you need to be reminded of your place.”

You gulp. You’ve heard that tone. You’ve heard those words. But you have a feeling Feyd’s threats toward his harpies are not as empty as the ones he throws at you, and it makes your stomach squeeze.

Your presence in Giedi Prime’s fortress being the indirect cause of their harm is nothing less than unjust. It’s not their fault their master brought fresh meat home. They cannot control what they are, and Feyd routinely encourages their behavior, excluding only you from the list of bodies they are allowed to feast upon. If anything, this is his fault.

“Get up!” he shouts, and they scramble to their feet.

You rise up on your knees as he turns and yanks open the bedroom door. “Feyd, wait, you don’t have to–”

“Stay!” he snaps, pointing a finger at you.

Your mouth snaps shut and you sit, watching as his harpies obediently follow him out the door. Within the minute, you hear the screams and squeals of pain, and you wince, pressing your hands over your ears.

You don’t know how long you stay in that position. It’s Feyd’s touch that jolts you back into the present.

You look up.

Red is speckled across his torso. You feel a slickness on your face from where he is cupping your cheek, and when he pulls his hand away, you notice the rivers of blood running through the spaces between his fingers.

Without a word, Feyd pushes you down onto the bed, rearranges the covers so they drape appropriately across your body, and crawls under the sheets to settle in beside you.

“What did you do to them?” you ask.

His eyes are already closed by the time the question fully leaves your lips. He blows out a heavy breath through his nose and turns on his side to wrap his arm around your waist. “Removed a few fingers,” he says. “Now go back to sleep.”

“But–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” he grumbles in demand. “Unless you’d rather I change my mind and toss you into their feeding pit…”

It's one of those empty threats, but you don’t press him further. Not for tonight. Tonight he is tired and grumpy and nothing about you pushing him will do you any good. So instead, you allow him to do as he wants. And what he wants is to tuck your head under his chin, eliminate all space between you, and hold you in a grip that is just short of suffocating.

Evermore: Part Two: Chapter. Five

Wow, it's been a hot minute, hasn't it? Well, a lot has happened in my life. Work has gotten a bit busy, and I lost my best friend suddenly. I was supposed to have this ready and posted last week, but that didn't happen, and so here we are!

Thank you all for joining me on this journey. I truly love each and every one of you!

Jake sat in his office as the men around him worked. He stared blankly down, lost for words. Five years, he was careful with his crumbs, but now? It’s all failing. He knew it would come back and bite him in his ass, but he didn’t expect it right now. How did he get so messy when he had the best people to cover it all up?

He picked up the phone and dialed your number, but it went straight to voicemail. He frowned and sighed.

“This isn’t like her.”  He said to himself.

**

The wind was right, and the perfect afternoon was beginning. You sat back in your beach chair, your little cocktail in hand, and watched Andy in the water with Chloe. After visiting Ari at his grave, you went to pick up some lunch at the local pizza joint you used to go to with Ari. As you looked on, with your heart filling with joy, it came crashing down when your phone rang. Sighing, you picked it up and saw Jake’s name.

As much as you liked him, you didn’t want to pick it up, as it was your family time with Andy and Chloe. You just ignored it and went on with your day. Looking straight ahead once more, Andy and Chloe were coming towards you. Both had their hungry faces. You placed your book down and sat up. 

“I assume you're hungry?” You asked as Andy reached you and Chloe sat in her baby chair. 

“I am, but I don't know…a certain little bug might be,” Andy said, looking down at her. Chloe smiled and let out a giggle. You laughed and went to get the pizza ready. Andy went to the cooler and grabbed a beer and a juice box for Chloe. 

You handed Chloe her personal-size cheese pizza and a small bag of mixed fruit. Then, I took the medium-sized BBQ Chicken Pizza for you and Andy.

While everyone ate, your phone rang again. Sighing, you ignored it and placed it down. Andy noticed and gave you a look. 

“That might be important?” Andy asked. You sighed again and took a bite of your pizza. “Nope, it's just Jake. I'm with my family at the moment.” 

Andy nodded, taking it no further. The three ate in a comfortable silence when Andy's phone also rang. He looked at it, and then he gave you a sad look. You knew that it was necessary and gave him the okay. He got up quickly and placed it against his ear.

“Andy, we just arrived, and we got something.” 

Andy sighed. “What is it, Joann?”

“We obtained the original files from Ari's documents. And I know you are with Y/N-”

“Joann, can it wait until I get home? Just email me some information. I'll look at them tonight.” 

“Okay, but so that you know? The official cover-up is very sloppy. I don't know how they got away with it.”

Andy sighed again. “Thanks, Joann.” And with that, he hung up and headed back to where you were, and Chloe was eating a grape popsicle, which made her whole mouth purple. 

“Where's Chloe Y/N? I can't seem to find her?” Andy asked. You looked at him and shrugged. “I don't know. The Grape monster might have kidnapped her?!” 

Both Andy and you gasped and turned to Chloe, who pouted. You giggled and pinched your daughter's chubby cheek, and she giggled. 

“Uncle DeeDee! I have a cherrwy for you!” Chloe said, handing him a popsicle. 

**

During the drive home, Chloe had fallen asleep, and you sat in the front, trying to figure out dinner. But during the drive, you couldn't help but wonder why Jake kept calling you. You told him quickly in a text message that you were out with your daughter and Andy, but he kept calling. 

“Why does he keep calling me? I've told him that I'm out with Chloe and you. He's not getting it!” You said, getting frustrated. 

“How many times has he called you?” Andy asked. You looked around your call log and signed. 

“Twenty times, " you say, quickly showing him your phone. Andy looks and shrugs his shoulders. 

“I'm going to be honest here, Y/N. I know you like him, but I'm not getting good vibes from him.” Andy said. You stood quiet and sighed. 

“He's a good guy, Andy.” You say. Andy wiped his face and turned to you. 

“You may think that Y/N, but I see something that you don't. He's funny, sure. But there is something that doesn't add up with him.” Andy said. 

“I don't feel like cooking. I was thinking of picking up some Chinese Food, " you say, changing the subject. Andy wanted to press on it but didn't want to continue, so he let it go. 

“Yeah, Chinese sounds good. Remember, Chloe doesn't like the spicy stuff.” Andy mentioned. 

“Yep, I will order some Egg Drop Soup and Veggie Noodles for her. Orange Chicken, BBQ Fried Rice, and Sweet and Sour Pork?” You say, and Andy agrees. 

**

By the time Andy pulled up, it was almost dark. Chloe was awake and fully energized from her long nap from the car ride. Andy gave you the keys to the house and went to put away the beach stuff in the garage. When Andy came in, you came down the stairs with a freshly bathed Chloe. 

After dinner, when it was late, you excused yourself and brought the sleepy 5-year-old along with you. Once you were upstairs, Andy went to his office to check on his emails. 

Hi Andy, 

These are the documents you requested. I'm just warning you—it's not good. I cried. 

Joann

“It shouldn't be too bad. I've seen worse and heard worse.” Andy said to himself as he opened the files. 

But the moment he opened it, everything came crashing down.

Hiya :) thank you for taking the time to read anything I write. If you like something (and are comfortable with sharing) let me know. It always makes my day! - ❤️ Lauren

Main Masterlist

ao3: Laureolive (if you see my writing anywhere else, please let me know)

I am trying a tag list so you can join by filling out this form, or you turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing. Many of these fics are 18+. If you are a minor, please do not read them.

The Harkonnen's Sweet Thing: Part 1, Part 2 - (Atreides!Reader) You watched your brother kill the man you love--a man you were once gifted to by the Baron--and now that he is gone, you think Paul will use you as a political pawn in his war. And you're right. But you're shocked to discover who is demanding to have you.

What Comes at Night: You have nightmares of Feyd's death and he's there to comfort you. *can be read alone* Mark of Luck: You give Feyd your mark of luck before he enters the arena. *can be read alone* Overprotective: Your son is due to be born any day now and Feyd is very protective. He kills anyone who so much as lays a finger on you, but it’s gotten out of control. *can be read alone* The Harkonnen's Loves: Feyd gives his four-year old son his first blade. (Mostly sweet family stuff)

Respect: Your betrothed is a son from one of the Great Houses, an awful man who has enjoyed threatening and scaring you since you were children. Feyd makes it known he doesn't appreciate such disrespectful treatment of the woman he loves.

Do You Love?: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

He Will Hope: Feyd is obsessed with his bride from the moment he sees her, but on their wedding night he finds out she might not feel the same. (Angst, but hopeful ending) *also serves as a very early prequel to Do You Love?*

His: You used to be a Lady, a daughter of a Great House until Feyd took you. Since then, your sole purpose has been to warm his bed, but when Rabban asks about having you for himself, Feyd makes a choice that changes your future.

Friends in High Places

Author's Note: Hi. I cooked this up in 3.5 hours bc my brain won't shut off. Don't know if I'll make this a chapter thing yet.

Warnings: Descriptions of blood, war + death?, injury. This is a Paul x ofc but there are no physical descriptions as I wanted to keep it as ambiguous as possible. <3

Summary: Paul learns he isn't alone in the war against the Harkonnens and the Emperor's forces.

Paul,

House Atreides still has friends in the palace. Use these gifts as you see fit. Long live the fighters.

Yours,

Imogen

He immediately knows these ships and the weapons they brought are at great cost to you. You may be the emperor's daughter, but he has no doubt you would be punished swiftly for your treason, if you hadn't been already. The thought of you facing the consequences for helping him makes him feel ill. You're strong—much stronger than him and more adept at everything he isn't —but surely even you could be overcome.

He thinks you might be better suited to delivering the Fremen to peace instead of him, but you’re too far away, holed up on Kaitain with your family. You're a mole in the emperor's house, one he can count on but not one he can take advantage of.

He will need to be patient. You will stand behind him when the time comes, but for now, he must wait. Keeping you safe seems a small price to pay, but the Fremen are strong, too. They can handle the costs.

He rereads the letter, committing it to memory before he destroys it. There is nothing to indicate you will be sending more of these deadly gifts, and so he supposes they will have to treat these with care.

***

You too see with more than just your eyes, and you can feel Paul's gratitude across millions of miles during your breakfast with your father and sisters. The warmth of his gratitude washes over your tongue like cream, and you take a sip of ice water to keep yourself from outright grinning and giving yourself away as you listen to Irulan debate with your father the emperor. The ships Paul received were taken off the records, their trackers destroyed, and there are several dozens soldiers and weapons mysteriously missing from the armory and barracks.

All of them loyal to you, all of them fighting for a better life. They believe in Paul's cause, and volunteered to help when you went looking for people you could trust. If they had families, they were relocated in secrecy on Arrakis, close by to their warrior loved ones.

No loose ends this way.

A few of your most trusted guards stayed, their allegiance to you unwavering. They spoke of you taking the throne in Irulan's place, but you didn't want it. The people had known your bloodline for too long. It was time for a new leader and a new beginning. When the time came, you would stand by your friend and voice your support. The great Houses would follow.

They always did.

***

You are beaten in front of the throne when your crimes are discovered. You laugh in the face of your father's personal guard, blood dripping from your broken nose and staining the granite a vibrant red. You're still wearing your clothes in the men's style and you find yourself glad for it when you imagine how much of a nightmare it would be to be caught in blood-sticky chiffon and flowing layers of silk.

"Our house is bathed in the blood of innocents, we are traitors ourselves," You cough loudly as you refer to the betrayal of Leto Atreides, eyes passing over the aristocracy that fills the great hall. "And now we shall pay for it."

You take your small knife from its sheath at your waist, pointing it threateningly towards your own abdomen instead of at your circling adversary. Some people gasp at your boldness; a stomach wound is a death sentence.

"Imogen," Your little sister of four and ten sobs, clutching at Irulan's arm that is braced around her protectively. "Father didn't mean it, please! Just drop it!"

The emperor looks on from his place on the steps leading up to the throne. His eyes are tortured, but you know him—he's playing a part. He'll send you away to exile and then play the grieving father when you are unexpectedly assassinated by someone loyal to the crown.

You'd rather fall into the terrifying maw of the Shai-Halud.

"Drop the knife, Imogen." He says. "No one will harm you further, just drop the knife."

You feel warm blood trickle down the side of your face; you might have a concussion from hitting your head on the granite when you were knocked down. You can also feel pain blooming in your ribs and back from where you were kicked. You don't have much time to waste.

"Clear a path," You spit, feet moving backward. You stretch your mind out to make sure no one is planning on attacking you from behind. "There's nothing left for me to do here. Men, with me!"

Your guards, having been warned to stand by until you gave the order if something like this were to happen, move past your father's soldiers, eyes ablaze with contempt. They form a protective circle around you and one of them, your friend Joel, places his arm around your waist to help your limping form along. A ship with two more men await you, and there are some that stay behind to make sure no one follows you. You lean against Joel and bury your bleeding face in your hands as you leave your friends on the ground, the ship flying high and stirring up dust.

They'll be executed if not tortured for information by morning. You hope they die like warriors instead. It weighs so heavily on you that you barely register someone trying their best to clean your face. Wet cloth comes away pink and drips on the floor.

"Their sacrifice is honorable," Joel says later. "Weep for them, but do not despair. Their deaths are not in vain."

You keep his words at the forefront of your mind as your ornithopter docks with a bigger ship, one that will take you to Arrakis. You fall asleep, exhausted as you wait to arrive on your new home.

***

You are carried off, still unconscious as a doctor looks you over and does what he can. Your nose is set and cuts attended to, and your old clothes burned. Paul sits by your sleeping form, protective of you. You’re vulnerable here, naked body covered in an airy muslin tunic and sheet for modesty's sake. He can see purple blooming underneath the thin material and wishes he could have stopped it.

But the Fremen saw it too—your devotion to their cause. Paul is frequently surprised at their willingness to please him, their Lisan al Gaib. Your well-being has been seen to as staunchly as his own would have been had he asked it of them.

You groan when you finally wake, drawing him to your side. You wince when you try to move over as he sits down on the edge of your bed.

"You've been resting awhile," His voice is a balm over you; you didn't realize how much you missed it until now. "Haven't moved much, either. I'm sure you're sore."

"In more ways than one," You rasp quietly. "The Sardaukar's reputation certainly precedes them."

He brings a handmade cup to your lips and helps you lift your head to drink. The water is cool and soothes your throat in an instant.

"You're lucky you got out."

"Maybe," You lick at a stray droplet at the corner of your mouth, his eyes following the movement. "Or maybe I'm just that good."

The corners of his mouth turn up as he sets the cup back in its spot of a small table next to your bed.

"Maybe." He parrots, looking over your still healing face. Your cuts had closed up and were more of a startling pink instead of an angry red, and your bruises were harder to see under the fabric.

"Can I check something?" He asks, fingers playing with the hem of your tunic. Your eyes blink as you manage a shrug.

"I'm not in much of a position to argue."

He purses his lips. "I won't do it if you'd rather not."

You contemplate that for a moment, grateful he'd even thought to ask your permission. "It's alright."

He fixes you with a look before lifting the muslin up to the underside of your breast, eyes scanning. He gently brushes along the path of the yellow-green marks with the pads of his fingers, making you flinch a bit.

"Sorry," He murmurs, dark curls falling into his face. You fight the urge to tuck them behind his ears. "The healer said to keep an eye on this spot, it's where one of your ribs was cracked."

You feel your face heat up as he pulls the fabric back down, berating yourself for wanting him to continue his gentle touching and pampering. He must have better things to do than look after you.

"Thank you, Paul," You find yourself saying, fingers reaching out for his hand on the bed. "For—looking after me. I didn't mean to put you in this position."

He smiles softly and covers your hand with his other, thumbs stroking over your knuckles affectionately. Even after all this time apart, he was sweet with you. "I don't mind."

"Mm," You sigh, eyes beginning to droop again. "Promise?"

"Promise." He affirms. "Go back to sleep, warrior-princess. I'll be right here."

You murmur something intelligible, probably an old insult, as you succumb to slumber once more. He stays with you as long as he can with his hands stroking your hair before he is called away. He asks that he be notified when you're awake again and ready to eat, but he suspects he'll be back long before then.

GRA (1) - Grumpy old man

Summary: You're roommates.

Pairing: TfatWs!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, banter, jealousy, vomiting, a hint of fluff

Grumpy Roommate Adventures

He huffs while studying the newspaper. “Hmm…all those young people died this week,” Bucky grumbles as you sneak behind him to glance at whatever he’s reading.

You shake your head. Who reads the newspaper these days? We get news from apps or online newspapers.

“Stop being a grumpy old man, Barnes. Be happy you’re still young and full of energy…” You snicker because the people he called young are a ninety-five-year-old man and a ninety-nine-year-old lady.

Bucky makes a face, glaring in your direction as you are busy preparing a bowl of cereal.

You’re the cocky addition to the crazy bunch of people sharing a house. Sam and Bucky’s cat are the other two. And, of course, the biggest grump you ever met—James Buchanan Barnes.

The icy soldier, or whatever people called him in the past. You’re too tired of and disinterested in gossip to care about bad pet names.

“Who forgot to bring out the trash?” Sam calls from the living room. “It reeks, guys.”

“It was Bucky’s turn,” you lie and grin at Bucky, who narrows his eyes. “What?”

“I told you not to call me that!” He hisses in your direction. “And no. It wasn’t my turn to bring out the trash!”

“But you are the trashcan man!” You argue, pointing at his metal arm. “You’ve got the arm and all. I’m so weak and need help with carrying heavy stuff.”

He huffs, knowing you didn’t like he offered to carry your neighbor’s bags last week. Bucky is not interested in the quirky blonde but liked that you got angry and grabbed his hand.

“You can bring out the trash,” Bucky bites back. “I’m not going to do it again. You’ve got legs, so walk.”

“Big grump!” You grunt and slip off the chair to bring the trash out. It’s your turn, but you had hoped Bucky would lend you a hand too. “I guess you must be busty and brainless to get your help!” You snap at him before storming out of the kitchen.

“It helps not to be a grump!” He calls after you, laughing as you turn around and stick your tongue out.

“You’re an old, grumpy man, Barnes! Don’t you dare steal my cookies again! I won’t share!” You give him the stinky eye before turning to bring the trash out.

Sam watches you walk past him. You mutter under your breath when you get out of the house, only to face your neighbor. The busty blonde bitch tries to flirt with your roommate all the damn time.

“Y/N,” she coos and immediately walks toward you. “What a nice surprise to meet you here. How are you? Where’s James?”

“Uhm… I live here.” You roll your eyes. “Why would I not be around to bring the trash out? And I don’t know where the old man is hiding.”

“Oh! I thought your strong roommate would help you with that.” She cranes her neck to observe Bucky following you outside. Alpine tugged under his arm; he watches you fight with the trash can.

He smirks because you curse and mutter while stuffing the trash bag into the trash can. “Do you need help?” Bucky asks, earning a grunt from you. “I can lend you a hand, doll.”

“He’s so nice and dreamy,” your neighbor swoons, while you feel the bile rise in your throat. Urgh…the milk was not good. Clutching your stomach, you groan. “What’s wrong?” She screams when you spit your breakfast on her shirt.

“Fuck…the milk…urgh…” You groan and turn around to puke into the trash can, emptying your stomach.

“Shit, doll.” Bucky suddenly stands behind you to rub your back. “Did you not check on the milk? I think it was expired.”

He easily picks you up in bridal style, ignoring that your neighbor is whining about her shirt or that you puked on your shoes. “Let me down,” you weakly say. “I need to shower.”

“I’ll help you,” he shrugs when you glare at him. “What? I take any chance to get you naked…”

Tags in reblog.

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N: Hello! Sorry guys I was protesting against the government of my country and joined the riots and almost got arrested, I'm back tho. Love you little doves.

Warnings: SMUT IS HERE! Minors get the f out. Pregnancy sex! P in V! Wrap it before you tap it folks!

Words: 4.019K

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (Let me know if i forgot to tag your or if you changed your username pls)

Chapter Thirteen

In the coronation chamber, Baron Vladimir Harkonenn was seated in his floating device, towering above his subjects, he was fuming in anger. Lady Wench’s servants’ heads on the stairs of his throne, covering the black stone stairs in blood, It looked as if the stairs were a river of black water, ‘’How could she manage to escape?!’’ he roared at his advisor who was also his right hand, the bald headed man was shaking in fear, he was a lithe man, his uniform jet black with certain colors on his left shoulder to show his rank. ‘’My Lord, Baron Vladimir,’’ he began, controlling his voice, his head low, ‘’Our Lady Na-Baroness-‘’ his speech was cut with Baron’s raspy voice, ‘’Do not dare call that bedchamber whore Na-Broness!’’ he had been ordering heads, shouting for strategic plans, he had sent a very angry letter to the Padishah Emperor Shaddam and also Duke Leto and the Reverend Mother. That old wench was the reason why Vladimir said yes to this union, he knew this little girl was a trouble and he remembered the conversation he had with Feyd-Rautha, his nephew months ago when he had a meeting at Shaddam’s study chambers, Feyd had attended few minutes later…

‘’Did I miss anything?’’ Feyd entered with a wicked smile, he had just finished dancing with Lady Y/N, it brought up his spirits to annoy her, the look on her face was something he would like to see for the rest of his life. Shaddam was sitting on a stone chair, Duke was facing Vladimir. Reverend Mother was behind the Emperor.‘’Here is my nephew.’’ He announced, ‘’He had grown up since you saw him, Duke Leto.’’ It was true, the last time Atreides family had visited Giedi Prime all of their children were little, playing and fighting together. It broke the Duke’s heart to see how much the Baron corrupted his own nephews, Rabban was gone but maybe, maybe Feyd could be saved. ‘’I highly object to this union.’’ Duke said firmly, his hands were formed into fists, he wasn’t going to sell his first born daughter like a livestock, ‘’Leto,’’ Shaddam raised his hand and draw the attention, to Shaddam, Leto was like a son he never had, he wanted Leto to understand how much he cared for this union, all eyes were on their galactic Emperor. Reverend Mother was whispering venom into his ear, or so Leto thought.

‘’This union is very important to our houses and the entire galaxy. Long ago Atreides and Harkonnen fought for centuries and shed blood. I desire to prevent this happen again. It’s time for you to unite.’’

Of course there was some truth to it but the Bene Gesserit’s only plan wasn’t this. They have been trying to create a bloodline both connected to the Atreides and Harkonnen directly. Duke hated the witches, except Jessica, she was different, Duke hoped that she would support him, it was such a shame that even though they have been together for years she was still a Bene Gesserit witch. He was soon going to find out.

One could look up and see the strange look on Feyd’s face, Baron knew that look, he was excited for his new toy but he had suspicions, she seemed too independent and disobedient. Feyd would soon to be fed up with her and toss her aside once she gives birth to the heir of house Harkonnen. That night he warned Feyd when they were alone, ‘’If you do not wish to be with her we can find someone else for you. After all, their purpose is the same.’’ Baron said, he was on his bed, smoking, Feyd was summoned late at night to speak with his uncle. ‘’No uncle, I do wish her and only her.’’ That wicked smile placed itself on his plump lips.

He had never understood why Feyd was so persistent with her.. he didn’t have time to dwell on it anyways. ‘’My nephew shall find her and bring her to justice.’’ He announced, if he had looked hard enough he would see the reluctant eyes of his subjects, little did he know that Lady Na-Baroness had gained the favor of the people of Giedi Prime.

After her session with the Reverend Mother of the Sietch Y/N retrieved to her chamber, a small space with rugs on the floor and walls, she got used to the smell of the spice, she got used to the people and the people got used to her even though she caught them staring time to time, she looked different and her head was held high all the time, it draw attention that she was a member of the Bene Gesserit and could use the voice. She meditated all night on the words and facial structure of the Mother,

‘’he is looking for his wife..’’

‘’a treachery on his part..’’

‘’Soon..’’

It must be Feyd, she was sure that her arrival was detected by his men and they must be looking for her but treachery part was confusing, she tried to channel her ancestors but it was in vain, she had to be skilled for that. She gave up the meditation because a huge sound was heard throughout the Sietch, a blasting sound and a mini second later she could hear the screams and the laser guns. Y/N immediately left her room, Fremen soldiers were gearing up, old women and children were being escorted to safety, she could see that with huge machines the walls of Sietch were being blasted, ‘’Y/N!’’ her new friend Sama screamed her name and she turned to find the source and saw Sama running towards her, she was holding a knife and a small laser gun, ‘’Here, take these. The Harkonnens are attacking us. I don’t know how they found us-‘’ another huge blast and from the giant hole a pack of  bald headed men in black uniform entered with their high-tech guns. It was them for sure. ‘’Go,’’ she said to Sama, ‘’you have duties, I can protect myself.’’ Sama was reluctant but Y/N reassured her and smiled, after Sama’s departure she joined other healers and Sayyadinas to help the children and elderly, the entire Sietch was covered in dust which was the mixture of spice and smoke, Fremen soldiers were strong and charging but the Harkonnens had more arms and outnumbered the Fremen. Y/N was in charge of helping the old Reverend Mother to safety, she ran to her bedchamber to collect her, the woman was dressed in orange satin, a yellow scarf covering her hair, ‘’Reverend Mother,’’ she yelled to be heard, ‘’you have to leave. Now.’’ The old woman calmly looked at her with spice blue eyes, ‘’You are the only one who can save us,’’ she said with a low voice, ‘’go to him. End this war.’’

Y/N understood clearly and bowed her head, she ran back to the common hall of the Sietch which was raided by the Harkonnens, she was watching from a corner and she saw her husband, Feyd-Rautha Harkonenn, he was giving orders to his men, he was covered in black but on his arm there was a scarf tied, it was hers. Her heart ache when she saw it, he must have been looking for her for weeks. She had to do something to stop the battle and the bloodshed so she came up with an idea. Y/N looked around and found a high platform, a rock that towered the common hall, it was a place where sometimes Stilgar would announce things and make his speeches. She ran towards the rock to climb it, on the way she was careful and trying to not be found and recognized, the screams of innocent Fremens filled her ears and made her climb harder, her fingers were bleeding when she reached the top and with all of her strength she yelled; ‘’STOP!’’ thanks to the Sietch’s design at this place someone’s voice could be heard clearly from everywhere inside. The Fremens and the Harkonnen soldiers stopped and looked p to find the source of the sound, Feyd-Rautha knew that voice, the smell of her pheromones brought him here and there she was, on top of a rock, her beautiful hair long and loose, they made her wear a baggy beige dress, she looked tired and sad… ‘’My wife..’’ he whispered. She was here, he had found her.  ‘’You have kidnapped my wife!’’ Feyd-Rautha screamed at Stilgar who was closer to the rock, there was a distance between them but they could see each other, Stilgar knew that this woman was a Harkonnen’s wife and his people didn’t believe him. He was right all along. ‘’Make truce and you can have your wife back Harkonnen!’’ Stilgar uncovered his mask to be heard, he was suspecting that Feyd-Rautha was going to attack and he did something which made everyone stunned, he dropped his weapon, ‘’Let her come to me and  I swear you shall have a truce.’’

Stilgar weighed him conscientiously, he also dropped his weapon to show respect, even though the man before him was a Harkonnen. The silence hung in the thick air of the Sietch, due to the fires it was extremely hot inside, Fremen and Harkonnen soldiers were alert yet immobile. Stilgar turned to look at her at the top and motioned his head, she started to climb down the rock, her hands hurt but she managed to be steady, when her bare feet made contact with the sandy floor she released the breath she was holding. Stilgar held her arm vigorously and walked towards Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

When Feyd saw that Fremen trash’s hold he was about to get his laser gun to shoot but the look on Y/N’s face was begging him to be wise and calm. ‘’Take your wife and leave.’’ Stilgar said and stop, pushed her to Feyd and he caught her, Y/N was in his arms after so long.. she looked up to meet his azure eyes, she saw so many things there, primal fury, sadness, happiness.. they were all swimming in the deep orbits of his eyes, all he wanted to was to kiss her like a man starved but not here, not right now. Feyd looked at Stilgar who was a few inches away from them, ‘’You have your truce… for a week.’’ And without a beat he held his wife’s arm and guided her outside the Sietch.

No one dared to utter a single word on the ship back to the palace of Arrakis. Y/N sat there on the cold metal chair, Feyd in front of her, and two pilots at the front. His intense gaze was on her, she looked different, her hair was a mess, she looked dirtier and plumper and yet she was the most divine creature he had ever witnessed in his life time. His elbows on his knees, legs spread he was just staring, Y/N’s eyes found the dirty scarf tied around his bicep and then his pale face, he opened his mouth to say something and thought better and closed it. When they arrived she felt his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the palace, she had seen the holograms of the palace before but seeing it up close was something else. One could see the traces of the Harkonnens, it was built by them 80 plus years ago and it was actually a gigantic structure yet simple. At the top it had a huge dome, she wanted to see it during the day light, maybe she could do it soon if she survived tonight…

His grip on her back tight, firm. Even though he was walking closely beside her his hand was possessive, she could feel it in her bones. The soldiers bowed as they saw her, ‘’Welcome back, Na-Baroness.’’ One of the higher ranked commander greeted her and she gently smiled, she didn’t have strength to speak, however her Bene Gesserit training was alerted, these men were actually relieved that she was here with them, maybe her policy back at Giedi Prime worked. As they walked the long stone corridors and reached to his bedchambers he unlocked the door with his thumb, the door opened and his hand gently pushed her inside and he locked the door, the inside consisted of a big bed, a door to the bathroom chamber, tall windows to see the endless desert, a spice rug at the middle of the room, not much of furniture except a leather couch and two armchairs, he pointed the couch, ‘’Sit.’’ Was the first word he said to her, his whole body tense. His chest felt tight, his fingers twitching, he wanted to take her in his arms again and check for any injuries, he had this deep desire to protect her, he came to sit across from her. Feyd had to take a sharp breath when he saw her eyes taring up but she was keeping her composure, ‘’Why did you escape Giedi Prime?’’

She exhaled, ‘’I had to..’’ she swallowed the lump in her throat, she was about to cry, ‘’I had no choice.’’ Her hand went to her stomach instinctively, his eyes following her action, ‘’Yes Feyd, I’m with child. The look on your face tells me that your uncle Baron Vladimir has been keeping it from you. He was the one who didn’t let me read the letters you had sent me for weeks, he is plotting my death after I give birth to our child.’’

His heart nearly stopped, the thought of her being with child, their child, was almost too much. Her hand on her stomach sent a wave of possessiveness, and protectiveness through him. ‘’I..’’ he began, ‘’You’re pregnant?’’ he was still in shock.  He felt sudden rush of different emotions all at once, happiness, surprise and… anger. Anger that his uncle kept them apart, that he kept her pregnancy from him, that he was planning his wife’s death. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, hold her, he had to hear you first and then he was going to love you and show you how much he had missed you. ‘’How long have you been pregnant?’’ his mind went to their last intimate moments, which was two months ago.

‘’For two months.’’ She replied.

It felt like someone punched Feyd, he clenched his jaw, this was all too much. She was pregnant with his child and he haven’t seen her for two months because of his uncle. ‘’Why didn’t you tell me-‘’ he knew there was no point in asking that but he couldn’t help it. The words just slipped out of his plump lips before he could stop them and that earned him a sudden outburst from Y/N. she bolted to her feet in anger, ‘’How was I suppose to tell you, huh? How was I suppose to let my husband know that I am pregnant with our first child when your uncle reads my correspondence and has his spies behind my tail?!’’ she was yelling at this point, ‘’I had to escape, you couldn’t take me with you because of your uncle but I came to you!’’

‘’I KNOW!’’ he nearly yelled at her, he also jumped to his feet, towering above her, he was also angry but not her, never her, he was angry at the entire situation that they were in. ‘’I know that you had to escape, I know that you came to me, I know I couldn’t take you with me!’’ he was yelling now, he took a step towards her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. ‘’Then why are you so cold towards me?!’’ her voice broke.

His hand went to his bald head, frustrated. He wasn’t cold towards her, he was on edge, he was trying to keep himself check, but her words were making him lose it. He grabbed her by the arms, his grip firm. ‘’Because I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to do with you, with us, with my uncle’s blood plan.. I don’t know!’’

‘’He asked for my head didn’t he?’’ she was calm now, her voice as cold asa Bene Gesserit witch.

He was staring at her, his pupils blown wide, his hands still on her arms, ‘’Yes.’’ He admitted through gritted teeth, his grip even more tighter, he wanted to pull her close, to shield her from everything that was happening, ‘’He demands your head.’’

‘’What are you going to do Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen?’’ she asked coldly, ‘’It’s either your wife or your uncle.’’

His eyes hardened, ‘’I will not let him touch you.’’ He said with a harsh voice, his mind was In turmoil. Ever since he opened his eyes to this galaxy he has learned to suppress and channel emotions, yet he was a mess right now. ‘’I will not let him take you. He wants your head but he will not get it.’’ His gaze was intense, his voice now threatening.

Y/N reached and clashed her lips with his.

He was taken aback by the sudden kiss, his anger and turmoil melting into the kiss and replaced by a rush of desire and need. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her flush against him, his hands exploring her body greedily. He could feel his body ignite with a hunger for his wife, he was desperate for her touch, flesh, and taste. One of his hands moved up and entangled itself in her hair, holding her there, their mouths melded together in a heated and possessive embrace, it had been so long. She whispered between kisses, ‘’Take me to bed.’’

He immediately picked her up like she weighed nothing, took her to the bed and laid her on the mattress, his body following close behind. He knelt above her, his eyes dark with desire, he kissed her again deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that borders on wild desperation.    Her hands reached to take off his uniform and his breath almost stopped , he broke the kiss to help her, when he quickly got rid of his uniform he knelt to kiss her neck, bite and leave his marks on her. His large hands also helped her with her dress and she was naked under him, he took a step back to look at her, his jaw clenched again, his hands gently roamed on her soft flesh, his fingers were tracing every curve, every contour. He bent his head and placed a kiss on her shoulder, working his way down on her body with trail of hot kisses, his mouth worshiping every inch of her. He stopped when he reached her belly and looked up to meet her gaze, he felt a rush of emotions washing over him. It hit him that they were going to be parents, that she was carrying his child inside her. His heart swelled with a warm and fuzzy feeling, his fingers gently caressed her belly, almost as if he wanted to feel the baby that was growing inside her. His eyes were soft for a moment, he started to kiss her stomach again, making it emotional for her as well. Soon he went lower and lower and met her dripping core. His hands were gripping her hips, his mind was swirling with lust and need. A his mouth reached her core, he paused for a moment his breathing ragged and hot. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, and he slowly took one of her legs over his shoulder giving himself more room to work. He slid his tongue over her slick flesh, tasting her, feeling her body shudder under his touch.

He didn’t know what has gotten into him but he just needed to drown himself in her. She moaned when he made the first contact, they had never done this before so it felt more intimate. His lips and tongue exploring her sensitive flesh, he was taking his time, wanting to savor every second. It was different than he had expected, more intimate and more pleasurable. He could feel her tremble under him, hearing her breathing change and he couldn’t help but draw out her pleasure, to make her feel good. His hands gripped her hips,  holding her in place as he swirled his tongue over her wetness, taking his time. She screamed his name ‘’Feyd!’’ as he inserted a finger, she was so wet and ready, it sent a wave of desire surging through him. He kept his mouth exploring, his tongue teasing and swirling while his finger worked inside, his mouth was hungry, his body heat getting hotter and hotter, he was losing himself in her reactions, in the sounds she was making, his own need was growing stronger and sending electricity. As he added another finger he could hear her gasps and whimpers, his mouth still on her wet folds, she tasted delicious, he was lost in her. It was so fun to watch her, she looked like a woman possessed and he was the one making her like this. ‘’Feyd,’’ she screamed, ‘’Feyd, I’m coming!’’ there was a feeling on her lower abdomen that she had never felt before, His fingers and mouth kept working, he wanted to see the way she was going to crumble, he was desperate for her to come in his mouth, he was drinking her like a man who had found a river in the middle of the desert.  She felt so soft in her mouth that he couldn’t stop himself from biting a bit, it earned him screams, soon she started to shake in pleasure, her hands gripping the bed sheets, as she came undone she screamed his name like a prayer so many times and Feyd didn’t move a muscle, he drank her sweet juice like a submissive servant, who was ready to do whatever she wanted. As she screamed his name he greedily lapped up every drop of her, not wanting to waste a single bit. His desire for her was strong, it was nothing like he experienced before with his former slaves, she was different and every since their first intimate moment he wanted no one but her. She was his, and Feyd wanted to give her more. He climbed up to kiss her, she was still shaking, he could feel her in his mouth, a sweet taste and he wanted her to taste herself so he kissed her  raw. He wanted to envelope her and become one, their bodies glued and she could feel his hard member. A moan escaped his lips, his body was tense with desire, needing her so badly. His fingers were gripping her skin as he leaned in to press his lips on her boob, sucking on the sensitive flesh, he had imagined that in a few months her tits were going to leak with milk, her belly swollen with his child and that image mad his rock hard cock twitch, his eyes were on hers as he sucked on the sensitive flesh, her boobs now more sensitive than ever. ‘’My husband..’’ she moaned and threw her head back. He couldn’t stop himself, her moans driving him wild, hearing her call him ‘’my husband’’ just set his heart racing. He moved back up to kiss her his body pressing against her body, ‘’Mine.’’ He said voice hoarse and ragged. ‘’Yours..’’ she managed to say, his mouth devouring hers, he needed her, he had to have her right in this moment so he place himself between her legs, ‘’You’re mine..’’ he took a moment to look at her under him, legs spread, such a fine delicacy and all for him. He entered her sweet folds slowly, and gave her a moment to adjust, she had forgotten how big and thick he was, it felt like the first time all over again and she gasped, ‘’Shhh’’ he knelt to kiss her cheek, her nose, her chin, he pulled out slowly and moved back in, to the hilt.

(Tumblr said the chapter is too long so i’ll continue the smut on the next one)

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A Trade

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: When Feyd asked for your hand, your father refused and took you away from him. Now he’ll do anything to get you back, and he’s not above kidnapping your sister to offer a trade.

Notes/Warnings: kidnapping and threats of death. I think that’s it. Feyd’s soft for reader.

Words: 4000

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

He sits quietly, his chair facing another of its matching set, and leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees. His hands clasp, fingers squeezing and releasing and squeezing and releasing in an effort to suppress the rage he hasn’t been able to let go of for weeks.

With eyes scanning over the figure sitting his opposite, Feyd’s teeth grind, wearing down the grit of his molars. It’s hard not to scrutinize. As he takes in every feature of her face, his lips and eyebrows involuntarily quirk in distaste. It’s not that her features aren’t nicely proportionate or well-placed on the structure of her face; they’re just…wrong. Familiar, but incorrect. 

“You don’t look like her,” he says. 

Her stare is just as intense as the one he knows so well. And though she may not look quite right, the aura she exudes does not stray from what he expects of someone with her blood. 

She jerks on the binds that are keeping her wrists locked behind her back and huffs when they don’t give way to her strength. “Well, we aren’t twins,” she states. 

There’s a bite there, but no soft edge to cushion the blow. She doesn’t know the proper way to deal with him. She doesn’t know how to ease the tension in his bones with her words. He supposes that is one of many things that makes the difference. It’s why he loves you and would not love a woman like her. 

Again she tugs on the ropes confining her. 

“Don’t bother,” he says.

She lets out a groan before finally surrendering. “You know, she told me all about you. About what became of the two of you. How it happened,” she says. “And I understand. I do. But do you honestly believe having your men abduct me was the best idea?” 

Feyd leans back in his chair. His arms cross over his chest. You are the only one who questions him, the only one allowed to question him, and his jaw ticks as he pulls back on the desire to slide a blade across your sister’s cheek.

“I do,” he says. 

Your sister shakes her head. “You know they’re giving her to Kenric. Father is with her on their planet in the process of signing a formal agreement.”

Feyd shoots up, hungry acid eating his insides. He’d heard news of the pending engagement, but he does not care to listen to those words strung together for a second time, especially not in a voice that so closely resembles yours. It makes him want to hurt something, damage something, but when the nearest target flinches at the sharpness of his movement, he pauses. You would want him to pause. He takes a breath and runs his hand down his face before circling to the back of the chair and gripping the edge of the seat. His knuckles whiten. 

“She is not marrying Kenric,” Feyd says. “Your House will give her back to me if I offer them you in return.”

She hums, unconvinced, and a crease forms at the center of his brow. He’s far from appreciative of how unsure she seems, considering this plan was the only one well-formed enough for execution. As the second born, she may not be as important as you are, but she’s a daughter of a Great House nonetheless, and no elite would allow the death of one of their own, certainly not their child, without some attempt at preservation first. They'll have to agree to his terms.

But if they don’t…

Feyd stares into the blank space by your sister’s head, his vision hazy, shapes blurring with each image of you that travels around his mind. Things had been so well. Content, yet passionate. Fulfilling. They’d been as close to perfect as Feyd could recognize from others’ descriptions of the feeling. 

You were a gift unto him without anyone realizing it. Your parents sent you for education, for experimentation, for practice in learning how to infiltrate other Houses so when the day comes for you to lead beside another, you would have the knowledge and skillset to manipulate any Great line from the inside out.

It wasn’t presented that way to his uncle, of course. You were introduced with the suggestion that the Baron see a curious girl, an innocent flower wanting to expose herself to foreign practices. But the act did not fool Feyd. He instantly saw the spots where the rose’s thorns had been clipped. What stood before him was a weapon briefly tamed for the sake of disguise who would grow back her barbs once planted within his walls. And he found much amusement in your deception.

It took mere weeks for you to fall with Feyd into deep affection. You were always around, always peering where you should not have been peering, listening to what did not belong to your ears, and when he got fed up with your lack of covertness, he confronted you. Confrontation which led to lessons in stealth that tucked the both of you into dark corners hidden from prying eyes. Dark corners that only shadowed your bodies if you were pressed against one another. Bodies that were so close breaths couldn’t help but intertwine. Breaths that brushed heat over faces and ceased only when lips met.

And then with one mistake, one request, you were gone. Kidnapped by your family’s guards. Taken from behind his turned back. Sand through his fingers.

“I believed her when she told me you loved her,” your sister says, snapping Feyd back to attention. Her mouth is parted, and as her eyes scan his face, they’re alight with something akin to wonder but with a few tainting specks of disgust. A reasonable reaction; one he anticipated. Her sister in bed with a Harkonnen—how horrible. “Nevertheless, it's fascinating to witness for myself.”

Feyd’s eyes narrow. His spine straightens. He squares his shoulders. “I asked for her hand first. She should be mine.”

A scoff bursts from your sister’s throat. “That is not what I have heard,” she tells him. “You did not ask; you demanded. And you were both naive,” she says. “She was not sent here to fall in love. Not to mention, your family has a reputation you should not forget.”

“She does not fear me,” he snaps. 

“She does not have to.”

“I am a Lord, an heir, as much as any other son of the Great Houses. My title makes me worthy. They had no valid reason to reject me and take her.”

“Do you think there isn’t more to it than any title put upon you?” she asks before she says, “It’s the wars your House involves yourselves in. The greed. The possessiveness. The pale hands in everyone else’s pots. The children you would produce.”

His jaw clenches. “And what would be wrong with our children?”

“What would be right with them? Everyone would fear the deplorable monsters they might grow to be with your blood coursing through their veins.”

Feyd’s heart prickles. 

He hadn’t thought much of children; he’d simply thought of you and what it would take to keep you by his side. Anything else he’d deemed the concerns of a much later time, but now, with it forced into his mind, he finds himself unexpectedly devastated. Normally he wouldn’t care about opinions, but to understand what ideas others might conjure up at the possibility of your union sickens him. The children you would create would be nothing less than flawless. Warriors. Survivors. Leaders. A pristine blending of you both. He knows it. 

Your sister’s chest caves with a heavy sigh. “Look, I do not say these things to hurt you in retaliation for dragging me here against my will. They are fact.”

In his silence, Feyd can feel her studying him from the inside out, not wasting a single passing second. Her position—the ties around her wrists that keep her bound to the chair—which would cause great concern to others, seems to fade in importance against her consistent, concentrated observing. It does not last long before he grows tired of it. 

“What?” he spits.

Pity bleeds into her irises. “She did try to convince them,” she says. “She claimed you’re different than you appear. Not as harsh. Not as impulsive as everyone believes.”

His gaze falls to his feet. “She was lying.”

“Clearly,” your sister agrees. Then her voice tips; softens. “But she was desperate. She would’ve said anything, though it wouldn’t have mattered. They refused to listen.”

Feyd’s eyelids pinch. He can picture you as desperate as he is. Begging. Begging as a Lady such as yourself would beg: with wit and strategy, utilizing every trick in the book short of falling on your knees. You’re like him. He begs as you do, but in his own way, with his own tricks.

“What do you believe will come of this? Really.”

Feyd looks up at her. “I told you, she will be mine again,” he doesn’t hesitate to say. “That is what will come of this.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” she asks. “Will you stop?”

“What do you think?”

As if he had cracked open her skull to reveal her brain, Feyd has an unobstructed view of each one of her thoughts nestling deeply into her mind. She said so herself what she and her House—what all Houses—think of him. War, greed, possessiveness. And he is but a fraction of the Harkonnen’s totality of power. What he’s done by taking her brushes the cusp of his capabilities, and his uncle would not restrain him from conquering another planet and snuffing out an elite lineage to obtain what he desires.

As your sister runs through the many repercussions of his plan’s potential failure, he decides he has wasted enough of his time on her. He can no longer stand to look at the face that lacks the features he prefers.

“Where are you going?” she says when he turns on his heel. 

“We’re done for now. You’ll be escorted to the guest quarters.”

“Not a cell?”

Feyd halts. 

“You’re her sister,” he says over his shoulder. And then he leaves her behind. 

—

“They’ll come today.”

Your sister looks up from the plate of food in front of her, her eyes landing on Feyd as he stops just in front of the dining table where she sits.

He’s reminded again how different she is from you. How when you sat in that same seat—a seat he is struggling not to scold your sister for occupying—you were the lone bright object in the room. Nothing about this soul-sucking black hole was capable of dimming you, and yet your contrast fit perfectly. You slotted into his fortress as if you were meant to one day rule over its every occupant, himself included. But Giedi Prime’s design does not blend well with your sister. She’s a royal-purple-velvet, gold-embroidered splotch in a sea of onyx black, and he wants nothing more than to remove her.

Soon. You will be back with him soon. Soon, you will be eating in that seat. You will be wearing his clothes. You will be existing in this space as you should be.

“How do you know?” your sister asks. 

Feyd blinks. “It’s been three days. Enough time to have been informed of your absence and return home to confirm it,” he says. “And she’ll know where you are.”

“You’re so sure?”

He gives a single nod. “She knows me,” he replies. “She knows taking you is not out of the realm of what I would do for her.”

---

Reader POV

You know where she is. From the moment your parents were informed of her disappearance and the three of you rushed to your home planet, not a single of your seconds was wasted on juggling alternative possibilities. How it is not blatantly obvious to everyone else is a shock, but perhaps your sister’s missing presence from the palace has turned frantic minds to mush. You’re the only one who isn’t running about, searching through closets and under beds as if a grown woman is playing a child’s game. 

You have to tell them. Recovering your sister cannot be a solo mission, despite how much easier that would be. Not to mention, to leave for Giedi Prime without notifying your parents would rightfully increase their panic, and no good would come of that.

So you speak his name.

They call him a demon. A monster. They curse and condemn him. How dare he demand one daughter and, after being denied, so quickly move on to stealing another. The implication that he’s taken your sister to replace you makes you ill, but to defend the love you share with him would further stir their tempers. 

“You’re certain?” Your mother asks through the trembling hand covering her horrified mouth. 

You meet your father’s blazing stare and try to ignore the hateful bile gathering at the corners of his lips. You nod. “I should go alone,” you tell them. 

“Absolutely not.”

“He’ll listen to me. He will not be cooperative with you.”

“That creature will listen to no one!”

“I know him. His thoughts, his tactics,” you argue. “I’m the one person who can get through to him.”

To his credit, your father takes a calming breath. It can not be denied that his emotions often guide him over logic, but he’s not a man known for idiocy. He sent you to the Harkonnens, and he’s not forgotten how well you’ve been trained to learn from your environment.

“Fine,” he eventually agrees. But he does not accommodate you beyond that. 

All efforts to ease his disgust for your lover fall on deaf ears. He won’t hear that Feyd hasn’t hurt your sister. He won’t believe that he hasn’t peeled her skin from her bones or starved her out of her perfectly tailored dresses. And though his eyes threaten you to surrender your conviction, to confirm his ideas and stoke the flame of his fury, you don’t give in.

Arriving at the doors of Giedi Prime’s fortress is done without guards flanking your sides. They stay on the ship. “He doesn't respond to intimidation strategies,” you tell your father. “It’s best not to storm his home with forces in tow and demand things of him.” Not lies, but you can’t say you’re honest for the sake of striking a deal without inflicting wounds on each other’s guards. True that it’s best to avoid an all-out battle, but it’s more true that your motivations are guided by seeing him again. 

When you do finally see him, you see no one else. The world falls apart and you cannot tear your eyes from his face. Neither can he keep his off of you. You’re yards apart, a rooms-span away, and yet you can already feel him from the anticipation of being in his arms. You’ve been living off of the memories of his touch, and now here he is, almost within reach.

Your father is shouting, but your heartbeat thumping in your ears shields you from the full power of his voice. “You dare steal my daughter!” you think he says. “Where is she!”

Feyd ignores him. He stares still. His mouth parts. And then, with determination in his steps, he walks to you. 

Before you can bask in the warmth of his looming closeness, his arm is reaching toward you, and in what seems like the blink of an eye, his palm slides across your cheek, his fingers weave with the strands of your hair, and he pulls you into a kiss.

Instantly, the long-awaited sensation threatens to kick your legs out from under you. Your bones warn of their weakening strength. Your heart briefly stops, but then beats return with a ferocity that could shame a beast in battle.

The *shing* of your father’s metal blade unsheathing is met with its sister sound from the multiple swords of Feyd’s guards. It buys you a few more seconds of holding each other, and you use those seconds to give all that you can.

Feyd knows how to kiss you. You know how to kiss each other. Though relatively tame in front of your current audience, he kisses with the promise of what his mouth would do to yours were you alone; echoes of what you shared before you were taken.

When you sense your time is about to run out, you plant your hands on Feyd’s chest, and as he cups your cheeks, you break the kiss. Your eyes find home in his. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper. 

He grins ever so slightly. “They can have her,” he says. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones and he rests his forehead against yours. “But I’m keeping you.”

I’m yours is on your lips, but his body is partially jerked out of your arms before you can speak. All gentleness in your lover switches off like a light. 

“Get off of my daugh–” 

Your father chokes, his nails clawing at the hand around his neck. 

“You don’t tell me not to touch her!” Feyd shouts with a squeeze, slowly pulling your father closer. Being inches shorter, your father must stand on his toes to keep Feyd’s grip as loose as possible, and as much as you find yourself enjoying the sight, you cannot allow it to continue.

“Feyd,” you start. As you caress his flexed bicep, you keep your tone velvety. “Feyd, let him go.” But he does not hear you. Or he does not listen. His fingers tighten. Your father’s face swells red. “Listen to me. I love you. No one is going to take me away from you. I won’t let that happen. You won’t let that happen. We will be married. We will be here, together, just you and me as we planned,” you tell him, “but I want you to let him go.”

A beat passes. Two beats. Three. Then Feyd expels the breath he’d been holding. His chest deflates, and one by one, his fingers unpeel from your father’s skin. 

Your father heaves. “Y-You…” he says through his attempts to recover. His hand rubs his rapidly bruising flesh. “You are promised…to Kenric. The agreement was all but–” he coughs “–but signed.”

A growl emerges, and from your left, Feyd lunges. Your father gasps. His eyes widen as he stumbles a step backward. 

“No!” You rush in front of Feyd to grab his face. Shaking your head, your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “No,” you repeat softly. 

The heat in his irises soothes as he keeps his eyes on you. His arm curls around your waist, and his gaze drops to your mouth. You want to kiss him again. You almost do, but then you remember why you’re here.

You look to the nearest Harkonnen guard, one of many you’re familiar with after your time on Giedi Prime. “Bring my sister. Please.”

He glances at his Lord, who nods in response to the silent question. Then Feyd’s attention returns to you, his eyes go to your lips, and he leans in. 

You struggle to care about anything other than his taste. After you were taken, you were lost to the devastation of believing your mouth and tongue and teeth would never have him again. And you’re lost now. Lost in the pleasure of those fears extinguishing. So lost that not even the echo of approaching footsteps is enough to cleave your bodies apart. 

“A relief to see that clothes are still on,” your sister’s voice greets. Reluctantly, you unseal your mouth from Feyd’s to look past his shoulder at your sister. There’s an unreadable expression on her face as she watches him bury his face in your neck. Acceptance, or revulsion.

Thankfully, your father seems to have missed her comment, so focused on seeing her well and unharmed. He takes an unsteady step in her direction. “Daughter–”

The Harkonnen releases your sister from his hold and she meets your father the rest of the way. “I’m fine, father.”

“That monster–”

“Didn’t do a thing.” Her eyes flick to the hand covering his throat. One brow arches as her head turns your way. “To me.”

Your father draws her into a hug, his hand going to the back of her head. “Good. Good,” he says. “Then let us take you both home.”

A chill runs throughout your limbs. Feyd’s arms cinch around your waist. He lifts his head, his vision glazed over as his eyes prod yours. “You’re not leaving,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “I’m not leaving.”

“You are leaving,” your father intrudes, his voice dropping an octave. “You are leaving this place. You are leaving that beast.”

Your sister sighs. “Father…”

“You are returning home, and you will marry Kenric.”

A muffled noise rumbles in Feyd’s throat. Like thunder on the horizon. A threat of a storm. You press your palm against his heart to feel the beats harder, faster. 

“We departed before anything was signed,” you say. 

Your father stomps his foot like a petulant child. “You made a commitment!”

Your head jerks back, and suddenly, red infects your sight. Intent on approaching your father, you untangle yourself from Feyd’s arms, but fingers latch onto your wrist, keeping you from gaining significant distance. You let him hold you back. 

“You made a commitment!” you snap.

“And I will keep it!”

Nails dig into your pulse point, and you know Feyd is straining against his urges as much as you are. “No,” you push. “You will walk free with one of your daughters, and the other will remain where she belongs!”

“You do not belong here!”

“Yes, I–”

“Father,” your sister repeats. 

He whips around. “What!”

“Let them be,” she says. 

Silence falls over the room. Feyd’s grip eases but does not disappear.

“He is selfish and stubborn and feels no guilt in how he loves her,” she continues. “I can’t say I’m interested in seeing what else he’d be willing to do to get her back should she be ripped away from him again, but I have no doubt it would be devastating. And I’m sure you would not survive twice.” 

Your father’s brows dip in the center. His fist clenches. “Do not disrespect me.”

“It's not disrespect,” she says. “I would fear for you, for our people, our home. Leave her, and I will marry Kenric.” 

You suck in a sharp breath.

“I have no attachments to any man. It causes me no harm to step into my sister’s place.”

“No.” Your father shakes his head. “I won’t allow it.”

“You will if you’re smart,” she replies. Tension radiates from your father, his body practically shaking where he stands. “And surely you aim to be a smart man. Surely you don’t intend to take unnecessary risks that could hurt everything our House is meant to protect.”

He opens his mouth, but the threat of humiliation is enough to shut him up. It has always been an area where he falters. Inadequacy and the fear of being looked down upon. It’s why you were marrying the son of Lord Kenric. Your House is not a weak one by many standards, but your father could not let go of the whispers among other Houses that they are stronger. He sought a match effective in showing your equals the value of his House and offspring. And blinded by his decision, there was no room for him to consider the consequences.

You watch in awe as he stands down, shrinking in the shadow of your sister’s wisdom. A smart man indeed. 

When your sister nears you, she reaches out to take your hand in hers. Feyd releases you as, for the moment, his nemesis has been subdued.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell her. “I’m prepared to fight him tooth and nail.”

She lightly chuckles. “Your brute would burn down the world. This is what’s best. Safest.”

“You’re sure?”

“I'd decided on this path before you arrived,” she says.

You look for hesitation, any regret, but she’s a stone wall—sturdy in her decision—and you recognize that arguing would implant a tone of dismissiveness of her wishes. 

“Thank you,” you mouth.

Your sister squeezes your fingers. She tips her head to you before she glances at Feyd. You peek over your shoulder, but his face is blank. Whatever passes between them is indecipherable—some unspoken understanding. 

“Keep him in line,” she says. Then she steps away from you.

Your father glares the entire way out of the fortress, and you know you’ve severed your ties today. You’ve made a choice, picked a side, and neither he nor your mother will ever understand. Whether or not they’ve become an enemy you will learn in time, but at the very least, it is unlikely you will be welcomed into the home where you grew up. A sacrifice you accept. 

As the doors close, Feyd comes up behind you. His arms circle your waist. Your back meets his chest. His lips plant on your neck. “Come to bed,” he says. 

You grin.

---

A/N: thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know :)

Rise from the ashes (1) - Into the woods

Summary: You're abandoned, but the woods offer more than trees.

Pairing: Alpha(dark king) Ari Levinson x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, betrayal, a/b/o, scenting, protective Ari, character's death (unnamed alpha), werewolf au, transformation

A/N: In my story, they live in a strict a/b/o verse. If an omega is rejected, she’ll be banned from the pack and left to die.

The wind gently tugs at the white, silky dress you’re wearing for today’s ceremony. You are the chosen one this time. The last unbonded omega to be chosen by a mate.

You’re giddy and excited, but a little scared too. What if you do not like the alpha choosing you? What if he regrets his claim one day?

“Follow me,” the head alpha says, guiding you toward the clearing of bloom. The place where bonds are forged for eternity. A holy place, a sacred one. No one would dare to shed blood here in war.

You obediently follow the alpha, your leader, and the most trusted person in your pack. His words are the law. No one disagrees with him.

“You know the procedure, right? Your parents taught you well, or so I heard,” the leader talks more to himself than you. This is routine to him. A new omega every month. Faceless women, guided toward their fate.

“Yes, Alpha Prime,” you murmur, afraid to anger him if you speak louder. Some people told you that your voice is unpleasant, and that’s the last thing you want to reveal today.

“I like the dress you chose and that you’re not wearing too much make-up or perfume. The alphas will be pleased scenting your natural scent.” Your heart flutters at his praise. Maybe the ceremony of fate is nothing you have to fear after all.

All eyes are on you standing in the middle of the sacred flower field. Your heart beats out of your chest as the unmated alphas approach you.

“You all know the rules. You can scent but not touch her, alphas. Be respectful, or the moon goddess will punish you for breaking the rules.” Alpha Prime’s voice booms through the night. “We shall begin now!”

You hold your breath as the first alpha moves closer, stopping only inches from you. He sniffs in your direction, huffing before he steps away. No match, but you still hold your hopes high. There are more than fifteen alphas. One of them will choose you. You’re sure about it.

A gentle breeze touches your skin, tugging at your dress as more alphas step toward you. They line up, scenting you, looking you up and down, even circling you before every single one leaves without laying claim on you.

Your eyes water as only a few alphas are left. There must be something wrong with your scent, or you. How can every single one reject you?

You wring your hands as two alphas step closer. They sniff at you, waiting for a moment before shaking their heads in unison.

With each rejection, your heart sinks further, but you refuse to let despair consume you.

The last alpha steps forward. He takes his time, circling you slowly, his nostrils flaring as he takes in your scent. Hope flickers within you, but it dies as quickly as it bloomed when he too shakes his head and steps back.

Cold fear grips your heart. You know what this means. If no one chooses you as their mate, you cannot stay in the pack for longer.

“The alphas have spoken,” the leader says. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. You expected a hint of sadness or regret for what he’s about to do, but all you see is relief.

The strongest guards of the pack step forward; they grab you to wrap a rope around your wrists. It’s unnecessary. How could you fight a whole pack? Your fate has been decided. You’re going to do the walk and die in the dark woods no one dares to enter.

“Rules must be followed. Y/N, you will be permanently banned from our pack. You’re not allowed to come back. If you dare to step onto our territory, you’re going to die through my hands,” Alpha Prime declares, still no regret in his eyes.

The guards drag you away. You don’t fight them. Head hanging low, you try to not cry. You want to keep the rest of your dignity.

Alpha Prime is right. Rules must be followed.

The guards are silent while Alpha Prime and his brother whisper. You try to catch their conversation and frown as they talk about this year’s sacrifice. Your name falls from their lips, and you finally lift your head.

“The forest god will be all too happy with her. Her scent is pleasant,” Alpha Prime whispers. “It was a struggle for all the alphas to not choose her.”

Your heart drops. Deception. All the rules and ceremonies are an illusion. You’re a sacrifice to some god? How can this be? Does anyone else know about this?

The guards stop right at the border, parting your territory from the pack of the dark woods’ territory. They live further in the woods, but you won’t make it to their territory.

Whatever is lurking in the woods will get you first.

“Be honored.” Alpha Prime whispers in your ear. “We choose only the special ones to become the sacrifice. Every single alpha wanted to claim you, Y/N.”

His words mean nothing to you. The rules, the hierarchy, mating, alphas—nothing makes sense anymore. The betrayal cuts deep as they push you over the border. You stop to look over your shoulder, but the guards aim their guns at you.

“Go, make us proud,” Alpha Prime says. He lifts his hands to the moon, howling loudly as you set into motion.

You run faster than ever before. Maybe you can make it to the dark forest’s pack. Maybe they will take you in. Maybe you won’t die tonight.

Your lungs are burning. You’ve got blisters on the soles of your feet, but still try to keep on pushing forward. “Where to?” You ask yourself while hiding behind a large tree.

It’s pitch black, and you don’t know where you are going. You lost orientation and track of time shortly after you started to run.

“I can’t… I just can’t,” you sniffle and sink to your knees, hugging yourself. “It’s impossible to escape fate.”

“Fate?” A deep voice coming out of nowhere says. It sounds as if your mind is trying to mock you as it continues. “Your fine people send random girls to my woods once a year. This is not fate; this is illegal waste disposal.”

“We are not waste!” You rise to your feet again to yell into the darkness. “We didn’t know anything about this sacrifice shit. They lied to us,” you sniffle. “They lied…”

“Fate. Ceremonies. Nonsense!” The voice booms, making even the ground shake. Whatever or whoever is trying to make fun of you must be a very powerful being.

“Moon goddess?” You immediately sink to your knees and lower your head. “Forgive me my impertinence.”

“Get back up,” the voice chastises. “We don’t have time for this. In these woods, rogues have been sneaking around my territory for ages. You don’t want to encounter them.”

“Rogues?” You shriek as someone grabs your arms to force you back on your feet. He steps away to get a better look at you.

The dim moonlight offers a good view of the man.

You gasp as you face a tall alpha. His blue, piercing eyes are framed by a strong jawline and a neatly trimmed beard that accentuates his rugged good looks.

The way he stands, with his arms crossed and his expression brooding, tells you he’s a man used to being in control.

The dark blue shirt he wears clings to his broad shoulders and muscular frame, hinting at the strength that lies beneath.

“Who are you? You’re not the moon goddess…”

“Oh, you got that already?” He smirks as you look at him with angry eyes. “The moon goddess does not wander among mere humans. Not in these woods anyways.”

He is silent for a moment, dipping his head as he listens to the noises in the woods.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, afraid there’s more in these woods than the cocky alpha.

“We have to go.” He grabs your bound wrists and drags you with him, not giving you the chance to protest.

The alpha is fast. Faster than you as he runs through the woods, forcing you to keep up with him. “Omega, don’t give up. We don’t want to get eaten by the rogues.”

“Eaten?” You pant heavily when he finally stops in his tracks.

He sniffs left and right, eyes turning red as he scents some other alpha. Gritting his teeth, he growls low in his throat. He throws his head back, howling, making the ground shake once again.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave this one to me. If not, you can try to fight the dark king.”

“Dark king,” you whisper under your breath. Many stories about the dark king have been told to you and the others in your pack over the years. The elders called him a beast with red eyes and poisonous claws. A werewolf from the dark ages.

He dips his head, listening closely as you hear footsteps coming in your direction.

“They never learn,” he sighs deeply before turning his head toward you. “Step back, hide behind the tree, and don’t come out before I’m back to myself.”

You nod and run toward the tree, hiding behind it. You’re shaking in fear as you dig your fingertips into the bark of the tree.

“I guess this means you want to fight,” he laughs and cracks his neck loudly. The alpha rolls his shoulders and stretches his back.

While he takes off his shoes, pants, and shirt, the footsteps come even closer.

You shiver and press your body closer to the tree.

“Last warning,” he says. “I’ll let you live if you go now.”

You don’t know if he tries to trick the men or if he has lost his mind. He stands naked in front of three tall alphas, and all he does is howl.

“He’s going to end up dead,” you murmur to yourself. You can’t shift without the power of the moon and will end up dead too if you try to help him.

A deep, guttural growl rumbles in his chest. His eyes flash red again as his features begin to morph.

His jaw elongates into a muzzle, making you gasp. How can he shift without a full moon?

His fingers lengthen and sharpen into deadly claws as you watch the men stop in their tracks. They look as confused as you are.

As his transformation continues, thick, coarse fur spreads all over his body. His massive, muscular frame casts a shadow that sends shivers down your spine.

“He transformed without the moon!” The men gasp and whine while you’re too shocked to even blink as the largest wolf you have ever seen moves toward the rogues.

He jumps at them, killing their leader with one bite to their neck.

“These are my woods. No one hurts animals or people seeking shelter here. Leave and never come back.”

The wolf growls, making the other men run for their lives. He doesn’t follow them, though.

“How—” You step toward the wolf to get a closer look. Your hand reaches out to touch his fur, and he lets you. “Why can you shift without the full moon?”

The wolf turns around to sit in front of you. He’s an impressive sight. At least seven feet tall, the wolf looks down at your small, trembling form.

“The moon goddess blessed me,” he purrs before nuzzling the hand you’re still holding up. The huge wolf closes his eyes, enjoying your soft caresses. “We need to go. More of them will come.”

You watched him shift back, cheeks heating up as he put his clothes back on. He was, in any form, impressive and beautiful.

“You killed one, but not the others,” you whisper as he looks you all over for any sign of injuries. “Why?”

“He was the leader and killed one of the omegas they sent here last year. I came too late…” He shakes his head. “I must protect the innocent. I failed her. I won’t fail again.”

“Why did you let the others get away then?”

“They didn’t do anything,” he replies. “I only kill if it’s necessary. He was a monster; the others weren’t."

“I don’t even know your name,” you hold out your other hand. “My name is Y/N.”

“I know,” he says, smiling softly. “The moon goddess talked to me in my sleep. She sent you to me. I’m Ari, your alpha, your true mate. And you are going to become my queen…”

I need a little help for my Feyd x Reader x Paul story. I really want a name for reader rather then (your name). Yes or No? Ideas??

What about nicknames for reader? What are some nicknames Paul and Feyd should use?

୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ between us 💭 feyd rautha

WARNINGS ⁞ smut, 18+, profanity, innuendo, afab reader, she/her pronouns

OPs NOTES ⁞ a/n: from an anon request. just a fun lil drabble // Summary: Feyd gives you a gift that you won't soon forget, proving nothing will come between the two of you.

MY NOTES ⁞ This is not my work. If you are the owner of this work and would like it taken down, please provide proof of ownership and I will take it down/redirect where necessary! Link to the fic reblogged on one of my other side blogs.

It’s late when Feyd finally comes to your shared bedchamber. His days have grown longer ever since taking up the title of Baron. He resents that it takes him away from you. You’re the only thing that’s ever made him truly happy. But this burden is his honor and his duty as his uncle’s chosen heir. Though he spends so many hours away from you, he always makes sure to return to your bed and only yours every night. He had his fun with his concubines, memories that he looks back on with fondness, but now? He can’t imagine being with anyone but you. His pets have fallen to the wayside ever since the first time he had you. 

Nothing and no one else could ever satisfy him the way you do.

Feyd expects you to come running into his arms, embracing him as you always do. He is a cold man, bloodthirsty and cruel, but your love and affection softens him. He frowns when he opens the door and sees you standing at the balcony, wearing your nightgown. The moon lights up your skin, making you look like some sort of ethereal goddess. He approaches you, moving your hair off your shoulder to press a kiss to the soft skin of your neck. You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice.

He turns you around to face him, hands cupping your face as he questions, “What troubles you?”

As if waking from a trance, you blink, meeting his gaze with a melancholy smile, “Nothing, my lord. Everything is fine.”

Your answer comes a moment too quickly and Feyd shakes his head, “I know you well enough to know when you’re lying to me.”

You pause before sighing, “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

The way you ask is so endearing that he can’t help but nod, “I promise.”

“One of your… Concubines…” It’s as if you struggle to say the word, your innocence bringing a smile to his face as he forces himself to hold back a chuckle, “One of them approached me and…” You shake your head, cutting yourself off, “Never mind. You’ll think it’s stupid.”

Feyd narrows his eyes, gripping your chin in his hand, squeezing slightly, “Tell me.”

You gaze up at him through your lashes, the sight of which has never failed to make his heart, which he once thought to be nonexistent, melt, “She said a weak little thing like me could never satisfy you the way the three of them did. That you’ll grow bored of me and come back to them. That you don’t…”

The way your breath hitches, tears pooling in your eyes…

Rage fills your husband, fire in his veins, “That I don’t what, little one?”

“That you don’t love me. That you never will,” comes your anguished whisper. Feyd lets out an animalistic growl, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Feyd, please don’t be angry with me, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

He quickly realizes that you’ve mistaken his anger as being directed toward you and loosens his grip, shaking his head though his expression is still furious, “I’m not angry at you. I would never be angry at you. You are the only one who brings any sense of calm into my life, little one. You are my wife. I chose you.”

He releases you from his grip, stalking past you toward the door. 

Your lips part in surprise as you stare after him, confused, “My lord?”

Feyd pauses, turning to look at you, pulling his dagger from its sheath, gritting his teeth, “I have to take care of something, my love. I’ll return soon.”

“FEYD?!”

His grin is bloody at the sound of your shriek, the heads of his three concubines thrown at your feet. Feyd chuckles as you scramble backward on the bed, staring at the disembodied heads with shock. He crawls over your body, feeling pleased when you calm at his touch, your hands resting on his cheeks, still stained with blood. He traces your lips with his thumb, watching as your eyes flutter shut at his touch.

“I will never let anyone come between us, little one,” he rasps, pressing his lips to your jaws, the blood of his concubines staining your skin, “Never. You are the one I love, the one I chose. I never went to see them after I took you as my own because I know their touch could never satisfy my lust, my love the way yours can.”

You kiss him, your legs parting to accommodate his frame as his tongue moves against your own. He’s eager tonight, you muse, feeling the bulge in his pants pressing against you. He moves your underwear to the side, fingers stroking at your slit, a wicked smile on his face.

“Seeing your lord husband painted in blood made you so wet,” Feyd whispers, “It seems my little wife isn’t so innocent after all.”

You bite back a smile as he spreads your thighs, mouthing at your wet cunt. And when you close your eyes, your head falling back against your pillow, he lands a slap against your center. A reminder that if you don’t keep your eyes locked on him, what he’s doing to you, he won’t allow you to reach your peak. He moans, pulling you in close, burying his face between your legs, inhaling your scent as he continues lapping at your folds like a man starved. Your fingers twist in the silken bedsheets, losing yourself in the pleasure he gives you, reaching your peak against his tongue, pulling him into another kiss as he crawls over you.

“No woman could ever taste as sweet, mewl my name so perfectly,” he vows, slipping his pants down to reveal his pale cock, already achingly hard, leaking from the tip, “It’s only you, my love. No one will ever come between us. Not even death.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling him rut against you, his cock brushing against your sweet spot every time he slams back into you, your nails raking down the pale skin of his back, leaving an angry red trail in their wake. Feyd bites down hard on your neck, hard enough to draw blood and leave a mark. You take his hand, bringing it to your throat, and Feyd immediately knows what you wish of him. He squeezes, restricting your airflow, smirking at the way it makes your body tense, your peak quickly approaching once again. Your eyes roll back as he spills himself inside you, his hot seed filling you.

Perhaps you seemed a sweet, unassuming little thing to your husband’s former lovers. But they didn’t realize that the longer you spent with him, the more your tastes began to mirror those of your husband.

He presses his lips to yours in a kiss, uncharacteristically gentle and yet still so very passionate as he vows to you once again, “I love you. Nothing will ever come between us.”

You grin, moving to lay on top of him, raking your nails down his chest as you whisper, feeling his cock already beginning to twitch against your thigh, “I believe you, my husband.”

Feyd chuckles, hands moving to palm at the flesh of your ass, groaning slightly as you continue your ministrations, clearly not wanting tonight’s fun to be through, “What a greedy little monster I’ve made of you, little one.”