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peggyao3 · 4 months ago

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Relic - Pt. 2 "Eidolon"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧༺༻ Dreams are messages from the deep ༺༻✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum, Feyd-Rautha's big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse ❗, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts ❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable!Feyd, Emotional!Feyd, Possessive!Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism ❗, implied/referenced murder

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist under construction ⚠️| Relic Masterlist (12 Chapters)

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tag list? Do let me know if u want me to tag u 👉👈

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Night 15

Midnight darkness caresses Feyd's shoulders as he pads to his dark bed, clad in full-coverage pajamas of loose, black fabric. He catches his silhouette in the wall mirror, glad to be spared the view of the new blemishes on his back and chest.

When he slips under the stiff covers of his bed, he is almost too excited to fall asleep. Excitement knots his stomach, so he forces his lungs to perform the breathing exercise that has always helped him since he was a child, channeling his focus only on his breathing, not whatever is happening to his body, the good and the bad.

The excitement helps him through the day, but he needs to relax his mind, relax his soul.

Is it working? When will he finally sleep?

The transition is seamless. He never realizes when he falls asleep and when the dream seeps into his mind like a blessing.

But then there she is, right in his arms where she belongs. They are reclined against the headboard of the large, white bed, their legs half buried under black covers. The fern rustles faintly in the terracotta pot and Feyd catches a glimpse of the two of them in the wall mirror. Immediately, his cheeks do this thing that makes them appear rounder and fuller and his teeth are on full display while his eyes are slitted. He is shirtless and there are no blemishes on his skin.

"Have you been here for long?" He asks, fingers tracing the softness of her upper arm.

"What?" She asks.

"What?" He replies and the same sense of could-be-should-be déjà-vu as always macerates the fabric of reality. She blinks at him and he leans down to kiss her on the lips. Her hand curls around the smooth back of his head, pulling him close as she opens her mouth and beckons him inside, so easily, so softly.

When they part, she whispers: "I don't know how long I've been here, but I missed you."

"I missed you," Feyd rumbles. She has absolutely no idea how much he missed her.

Gentle hands explore his face, touching places no one has ever touched, like his closed eyelids, the dip of his cupid's bow or the meandering shapes of the shell of his ear.

"How is this scientifically possible?" She raptly breathes and Feyd's eyes open back up from the blissful trance where only the caress of her hands can bring him.

"I still don't care." He smiles, leaning closer into the warm and comforting body that breathes against him.

"How can you not care? Shared, lucid dreams imply the existence of a connection between two organisms across space time, and since our interactions seem to be instantaneous, it's almost like we're quantum entangl- Feyd!" She squeaks when he rolls her on her back, pushing one leg between her thighs and his chest on top of hers.

She is so caught up in her wild chain of thoughts, that she completely forgets to hold him and that annoys Feyd greatly. "Don't you find that fascinating at all?" She asks.

"I have bigger concerns."

"Yes, like what?" She grins, cupping his face with gentle hands.

"Like the fact that you're not kissing me."

"Oh, you're so needy." She pecks him on the mouth, noting how his features soften and his lashes lower.

"I'm not." Feyd growls, pressing his mouth against hers softly while he wonders why he actually denies it. Their chests come flush in an intimate dance of bodies, bare, vulnerable skin stretching across bones and muscles.

These may be dreams and they are the dreamers, but she is real. Feyd could never make up a woman so kind without any reference.

Night 28

"How was your day?" Worry laces her voice and Feyd would like to be upset with her but, oh, he can't. She always looks at him with such concern, as if she expects him to drop dead any moment, or fall apart beneath her fingers.

"My day was better than usual," he reveals nonchalantly, scanning her face with challenging, blue eyes. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Something is up today, I can feel it."

"Nothing is up," he insists and delves for her throat where he intends to place kisses on the impossibly soft and delicate flesh, but she catches him by the chin (so smooth, not even a hint of stubble) and pouts.

"Don't lie to me, Feyd." She can read him so well, as if they've known each other forever.

Fine. "I killed my uncle's pet today." Oh, how good it felt to say that. The elation in his tone is impossible to hide.

"Feyd! Why?!" She lets go and flinches away from him and Feyd regrets his choice of words instantly. She however is more shocked by the fiendish grin with which he had admitted a murder than the actual words.

"If you saw iit and lived with it, you would understand why. You could say I put it out of its misery." He sits upright, mirroring her position. He should have just kept his mouth shut.

"Oh, so it was sick?" She hopefully asks and Feyd is seriously tempted to just lie to her to maintain that warmth that returns to her expression. She appears to be ashamed of misjudging him, but his answer can only disappoint her.

"It-, well, I should spare you the details."

"But now I want to know." She comes back to him and curls against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. She wants to know about his life.

"It was a monster. It would have scared you." And now it won't ever scare her. Feyd's arms slide around her waist and she leans into his embrace. His presence is so comforting, she thinks. She may not even care if he killed an animal.

"Was it dangerous?"

"It shouldn't have existed in the first place!" Feyd hesitates for a second and she feels the spike of his pulse against his jugular. "And it was my uncle's."

Aha, she thinks with alarm, fingers tracing patterns on his smooth, bare chest while she keeps her face hidden in his shoulder. "Tell me more about that pet." What she really wants to know is more about that uncle.

Feyd turns his head, catching her gaze which is only inches away and leans closer as if to whisper a foul secret to her. "It was Tleilaxu-fashioned." That word doesn't have the intended effect, which is a little annoying. She blinks at him without understanding - bless her innocence - so Feyd sees himself forced to elaborate. "I'm saying it was genetically engineered to be a monstrosity."

"Oh." She shrugs her shoulders like that is not at all shocking. His strange woman was shocked by his black cum but not a twitch of disgust decorates her features in the presence of breaking the laws of nature.

"It was fashioned only for my uncle's amusement, not because it should exist but because it could!" More anger swings in his tone now. "I've done it a favor."

When he was younger, he had asked himself many times if anyone would ever do him the favor, but he was too well-protected and now the idea has been banished into a dark, dark corner of his adult mind.

"So, your uncle has been… Mistreating his pet and you put it out of its misery?" Her fingers gently stroke his wrist.

"He's been treating it better than other things." Things, people, boys…

Feyd glances into the center of the room, looking right through everything, into the nothingness, not realizing how his grip tightens around her innocent flesh.

She sees it there in his eyes, the truth. She sees it in the tight set of his jaws, the sharp intake of breath, the terror buried beneath layers and layers of apathy. It could be anything, but her empathy has never lied to her. It's like she's always known.

"Oh Feyd," she says and wraps her hand around his. His every muscle becomes rigid and his head whips around. He can see that she knows.

How can she know from just a glance? This witch! Feyd recoils, aghast that he gave away so much of himself so easily. It slipped out of his grasp like a snake left to flail on the ground and bite him in the ankles unless he stomps it dead. Should he kill her so she can't tell anyone his secret?

As he recoils and slides off the bed, she releases his wrist and Feyd's stomach cramps. Why did she let go of me? I repulse her now, I repulse myself. Everyone who knows would be repulsed and wouldn't want to touch me.

He backs off until he has maneuvered himself into a corner, shoulders drawn up, panting like the small boy who once ran down the corridors, chased by nothing but the sticky shadows of reality that follow him every waking hour. His woman hasn't followed him at all. She sits on the bed, looking at him sadly and with pity that overflows from her eyes and posture.

"I don't want your pity!" He barks, voice shaking. "You know nothing about me!"

"I'm sorry," she squeaks, flinching, and Feyd wants to take it back, feeling awful for making her scared, but he can't, just like he can't take back the terrible truth.

"No…" Feyd weakly mutters, looking away, staring at the pattern of the floor until his vision turns grainy. Clenched fists yearn for his blade, but he's never had it in this dreamscape. Any target will suffice, a slave, a fighter, himself, his uncle… But not her.

"What can I do?"

"Can you get me out of here?" Feyd blurts out.

"Oh." Why does she sound so disappointed? "We've tried to wake up before, it's never worked, I don't know how to-"

"That's not what I meant." Feyd's jaws grind and he stares so hard at the floor pattern that his brain starts seeing the shapes of snakes that slowly coil around what looks like his neck.

"Oh, Feyd. My poor-"

"I don't know where that question came from!" Feyd snaps, interrupting her. Viciously, he shakes his head. His eyes sting with hot, wet tears because he's stared at the floor too long. How silly of him, a pathetic, dreaming boy, to think she could save him, when he can't even save himself. Giedi Prime's most fearsome warrior can't even-

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrap around him tightly and the crown of a head invites him to rest his chin upon it. Feyd's heart stops and he bites back the agonizing pressure in his throat with a choked sound.

"I'll stop if you don't want me to."

He hugs her back so fiercely that her poor ribs and spine must be aching, but she only hugs him back fiercer still, face buried in his chest, lips mouthing sweet nothings. After minutes, Feyd's grip grows weaker, his face on her head heavier and by the end of it, she is holding him.

Night 39

"Have you always dreamed?" Feyd innocently asks and she struggles to comprehend the question.

She lies prone on her stomach, legs spread open and a pale, smooth body undulates on top of her, taut chest and tummy pressed against her back, pelvis grinding against her ass. His length slides in and out of her at an inefficient angle, every upwards arch of her hips being smothered by a downwards push of Feyd's.

"Every other night, y-yes, hah~" Once more she tries to raise her behind, but Feyd's rutting hips press her down. He could reach much deeper if he only let her move!

"And have you ever dreamed of other men?"

"Hnngg, ahh- I'm sure I have. Feyd!" Her cheeks blush hotly when Feyd slams himself to a stop, cock throbbing palpably against her walls as he holds himself there, nearly crushing her with his weight.

"What?" His voice is more growl than human and a shiver passes down her spine which is smothered by his smooth torso.

"But not like this! Oh, please, don't stop." She tries to grind her ass against his pelvis with little to no range of motion, but Feyd only slightly shifts his knees, tightening the cage he has created around her body.

"Do other men have you in your sleep?" Plush lips tickle the shell of her ear and his hot breath caresses her skin, eliciting a clench of her inner muscles around his unmoving, velvety length.

"I only dream of you," she whimpers, heart thrumming up a storm in her chest. To be craved so possessively almost feels forbidden. "And do you dream of other women?"

"I only dream of you. I only think of you too," he rasps, hips snapping leisurely back to action massaging her inmost parts. Feyd expects her to repeat it after him but she doesn't, so he tightens his manacle around her shoulders, caging her torso with his arms. "Who do you sleep with when you're awake? Is there someone holding you while I fuck you in your sleep?"

"No, there is no one!" She snarls, shuddering from the harsher pace that came with the last question.

"Are you lying?!" Tiny specks of spittle spray against her ear.

"I'm not lying!" She snaps. Why doesn't he believe her? "Feyd~" A pleading moan rolls past her lips, body squirming for freedom and release, rejoicing when the former is denied to her. Feyd's right arm crawls under the impossibly tight space between her body and the mattress, past her sweat-damp pubic mount.

The tender, little nub of her clit rewards him with a clench of her walls when his fingers trace deft circles, smothering her body and mind from all directions with possessive affection that would be too much if she didn't crave it so much. Her body adjusts so easily to the rough tempo and pressure builds with no way out, nowhere to go except over the top of her climax and crashing down in hard waves that squeeze his cock and make tears and drool roll down her face.

The orgasm takes her worries to the sky where they dissolve among the clouds and pelt down like harmless rain drops. What if the dreams suddenly stop, what if she will never see him again, what if something terrible happens to either of them in the real world? All meaningless words, jumbled into benign disarray as bliss takes a hold of her body.

Her face drops on Feyd's forearm which is the bars of the fleshly cage that shelters her and she moans open-mouthed against his skin as he still ruts into her from behind, chasing his own release. Why would she ever have anyone at day when she can have him at night?

By a route obscure and lonely, Haunted by ill angels only, Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, On a black throne reigns upright, I have reached these lands but newly From an ultimate dim Thule – From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime, Out of SPACE -- out of TIME. - Dream-Land by Edgar Allen Poe, 1844

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