ficarcheologist

[ficarcheologist]

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.”

[ficarcheologist]

୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ cherish 💭 feyd rautha

WARNINGS ⁞ smut, 18+, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, pregnancy, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, oral f receiving, face sitting, lactation kink, creampie, p in v sex

OPs NOTES ⁞ combined a request for pregnant!reader with feyd not wanting reader to leave the bed + feyd fluff 🩷

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.

Mornings with Feyd are a struggle for one reason and one reason alone. Your husband despises it when you leave your shared bed. And it’s gotten even worse since Dr. Suk confirmed your delicate condition. Your and Feyd’s tireless efforts at conceiving a child have finally borne fruit. You’re pregnant, only two months from delivery now, in fact. You feel his arm wrapped around you, his hand caressing your growing belly. You smile at how protective he is of you and the little one, even in his sleep. And when you try to move out from under his arm, he lets out a low, annoyed hiss, almost like a cat that’s had its ball of yarn taken away from it.

“Stay.”

His words are a low rasp, one that has you smiling to yourself as you struggle to sit up, “It’s time for breakfast, my love.”

You bite back the moan building in your throat as he moves his hand lower, to the apex between your thighs, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “But I have such a sweet little treat right here…”

You turn to face him, giving him a light swat against his bare chest. Not for the first time, you’re blown away by just how handsome your husband is, your heartbeat quickening at the sight of his angular face, those intense eyes peering at you, half-lidded with sleep. You lean in to press a kiss against his temple, moving your lips to brush against his jaw next.

“Good morning, my husband,” you breathe against his lips, feeling him smile against you.

You watch as Feyd sits up, his hand moving to your stomach, caressing it as he smiles gently, an expression that he reserves only for you, “How do you feel this morning?”

“Sleepy,” you admit, “My back was sore last night. It took me a while to fall asleep.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Feyd frowns, his hand moving to rest against your lower back, the gesture making your heart warm, “I could’ve stayed awake with you.”

“You were sleeping so peacefully…”

Feyd presses a finger to your lips, silencing you with a stern look, “Next time you experience even the slightest discomfort, I want you to wake me, little one.”

You roll your eyes, taking his hand in your own and pressing a kiss to his fingertip, smiling mischievously, “As you wish, my Lord Feyd.”

The serious expression on his face melts into something far more tender, a soft smile gracing his features as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. Feyd lifts the fabric of your nightgown, pressing a kiss to your stomach next, whispering to the life growing inside of you.

“Good morning, little Leto.”

You beam at Feyd, pleased that he’s agreed to name your son after your beloved father. He chuckles as you pull him into another kiss, your lips moving desperately against his as he pulls you into his lap. It hasn’t escaped Feyd’s notice how much you seem to long for him in this vulnerable state, whether it be his protection, his affection, or the pleasure he’s content to give to you any morning, noon, or night. At this moment, it seems you’re interested in the latter, judging by how eagerly you’re palming at him over the fabric of his sleeping pants. Feyd shakes his head, grinning at you.

“Eager, wanton little baroness.”

“Cruel, selfish baron,” you pout, “Your wife requires your touch. Your care. She carries your son inside her womb and even now you seek to deny her?”

Feyd shakes his head, laying back and gazing up at you as you straddle his waist. You pull your nightgown over your head, baring your body to him. Your breasts are fuller than they were a few months ago, the sight of which has Feyd’s mouth watering. The sight of your swollen belly and the realization that it’s his child that grows inside of you has his cock growing painfully hard as you rub yourself against him. He moves his hands to caress your hips, moving down to your ass, giving you a playful slap as you ease yourself onto his cock. He lets out a low groan, rolling his hips against yours as you bounce up and down on him.

��You look so beautiful,” Feyd mumbles, his voice hazy with lust as he stares up at you, “Like a goddess. You ought to let me have a shrine built to you.”

“Only if you have one built for yourself beside me,” you murmur, brushing your lips against his with a smile, your hands resting on his chest, feeling each breath, the way each muscle moves, “My sweet, handsome husband. My lord.”

Feyd sits up on his elbows, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, suckling eagerly, letting your milk flow onto his tongue, the sweet taste making him eager for more. His lips are greedy, teeth nipping at your sensitive flesh as you continue bouncing up and down on his cock, feeling him hit the spot inside you that your fingers can never quite reach. When the flow from your right breast stops, he moves to your left, his palm moving up to squeeze and soothe you.

You reach your peak as he mouths at your breast, his hand holding your hips in place as he continues to take his fill, rutting up against you over and over and over until he spills himself inside you, watching his spend leak from your swollen cunt. But, he doesn’t seem to want this lazy morning together to be over.

“Sit on my face, little one,” Feyd rasps, pulling you in gently by the hips, “Let me taste you.”

You move up to do as he asks, rubbing your pearl against his nose as he laps at you eagerly, hands grasping at your thighs as you ride his face, the mixture of your arousal and his tasting tart yet not unpleasant on his tongue. Feyd thinks he could die a happy man like this, feasting on your sweet cunt, but he knows you would slap his chest and scold him if he ever said such a thing. That you’d threaten him if he ever even thought of dying before you. Perhaps the two of you will die together, he muses as you squeal his name, your thighs tremble as your fingers move against your swollen bud. Your bodies buried together on Giedi Prime, laid to rest in each other’s arms for all eternity. It’s macabre, but Feyd can’t think of anything more romantic.

After you reach your peak, Feyd is surprised when you move off of him, cuddling up against his side, pressing featherlight kisses along his jaw. You trace the tip of his nose, his cheekbones, down his chin to his neck, just smiling at him serenely. His breath catches in his throat at the tenderness in your touch, the genuine love in your eyes as you continue pressing kisses to his neck. His hand moves to your cheek, cupping it gently, his voice barely above a whisper as he speaks.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

You beam at him, radiant as ever, glowing as a woman in love does, “Oh, Feyd… It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. Let’s stay in bed a little longer, like you wanted.”

His heart soars as he wraps you in his arms, cherishing this moment where it’s only the two of you.

[ficarcheologist]

C ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ D

❱ http: DUNE .COM

Feyd Rautha

[ficarcheologist]

୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ nsfw alphabet 💭 feyd rautha

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

OPs NOTES ⁞ Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

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.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you’re his wife or a favored concubine/lover, you can expect some degree of aftercare, but otherwise? He’s honestly probably halfway out the door before you’ve come back to your senses. However if he genuinely cares about you, he’ll at least clean you off and ask if you’re alright.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his own is his hands. And your neck for similar reasons. He loves watching the way his fingers wrap around your throat. The sight of that excites him like nothing else on the planet.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harkonnen have black cum and that makes it pretty easy for Feyd to stain your body or clothes and mark his territory.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You’re a bit shy about it but his absolute favorite act of intimacy with you is going down on you when you’re on your period. You’re so responsive, and blood has never scared him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

About what one would expect for a nobleman his age, maybe slightly less as he focuses more on fighting.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary for both the control it gives him over you and the intimacy it provides.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Deathly serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Shaved, perfectly well groomed. Feyd is a future Baron, and everything about him needs to be flawless.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s surprised by how much he changes through the course of your relationship. He goes from despising the romantic aspects of it to craving that affection from you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Only does it when he’s off world and can’t get his greedy hands on you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Knife kink, blood kink, impact play, hair pulling, biting, overstim, pregnancy kink, breeding kink

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The luxurious chambers be shares with you at the palace. But, he does enjoy a good session where there’s a risk of being caught.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your cleavage, the sound of your voice, seeing you hold your own in a fight, seeing you smile at him, seeing you cry.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’d be turned off by disrespect. Sass is fine to a certain degree, but disrespect? No.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers giving. Loves the power he has over you to make you scream and writhe against his ministrations, the way you taste, everything about it. And he’s damn good at it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Almost exclusively fast and rough and HARD. Very rarely will it be slow and sensual.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sure, he’d rather take his time with you but he has nothing against a good quickie and engages in them often.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Definitely a risk taker and game to experiment with almost anything at least once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

4-5 rounds, excellent self control so makes you come at least once or even twice before he does each go about. If he has time, he’s definitely going to wear you out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Prefers the simpler things - like knives - but would have no issue trying out some toys on you, not so much on himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you’ve pissed him off? He can be very, VERY unfair. He will edge you for literal hours until you’re begging him to let you come.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Average to slightly louder than average. Mostly animalistic sounds (snarling, growling) and the occasional moan of your name.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Secretly enjoys the idea of you taking the lead and pinning him to the bed, having your way with him, riding him and using him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s big. 8 inches, long, thick, veiny.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Average. He’s a busy man who often has other things on his mind, BUT when he’s with you and doesn’t have any worries? It goes from average to insane quite fast.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on his mood. Typically he will fall asleep pretty quickly.

[ficarcheologist]

୧ ⊹₊ ⋆ between your teeth 💭 carmen berzatto

WARNINGS ⁞ afab!reader, NSFW. 18+ MDNI. P in V. Swearing. Carmen's gold fucmkin' chain. Cum.

OPs NOTES ⁞ got my first tattoo yesterday and all i was thinking about was carmy. so this is where the idea for this started, but then it got steamy and, well, yeah. (also how the fuck do people not instantly fall in love with their tattoo artists, like this man put his hand on my wrist so he could keep me still while he placed the stencil and like, i'm gay as hell, but i was like, 'oh, huh, okay, love this.')

MY NOTES ⁞ the OP is still around!! They re uploaded the fic here!!! the fic has been deleted from this post and is now here as a redirect to the OPs work!

[ficarcheologist]

A ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ B

❱ http: THE BEAR .COM

Carmen Berzatto

[ficarcheologist]

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A ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ B C ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ D

E ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ F G ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ H

I ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ J K ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ L

M ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ N O ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ P

Q ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ T U ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ Z

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Organized by the fandoms. This means that if you were looking for a Loki fic, for example, you would go to M ⁎.ʚɞ.⁎ N for Marvel.

[ficarcheologist]

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