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h0unds-of-h3ll · 15 days

Text

Shades of cool

Instances where your best friends dad tried to seduce you.

Big daddy Elvis Presley x reader! Sexual situations.

Word count: 5k.

Warnings: As you read it’s your best friends dad seducing you. Major age gap. Naive reader. Kissing. Manipulation, gaslighting. Swearing. Obsession. He’s a cocaine user. Talk of male masturbation. Female masturabtion. Objectification. Sexy Polaroids. Sacrilegious. Detailed description of perversion at the end. Perverted E. All parties are legal!

A/n: “I wanted to try something a little different than I normally do. I wanted to write something a little darker. I also wanted to write something and this is what came out. Let me know if you like this version of my writing!”

Before the instances

It started, well, it was always in motion ever since he saw a little you with Lisa back in the late 60s. Nothing more than a lil ole schoolgirl. His friends talked about you like they did when he was with Priscilla all those years ago. It struck the same vein-alighted that same hunger. His micro aggressions towards you though, where he grew overtly affectionate and fond over you. Was the summer in 1985. He was older, much older, thirty-two years to be exact and you didn’t know why but his age never affected how you thought of him. If anything it drew you to him. He was older, more mature than the guys you’ve hung around. He was the father figure you needed whether you wanted to admit it or not. By God, Elvis was smart and he knew he’d never have a greater opportunity than now helping your own self, mature into a fine young (co-dependent) woman. You just had graduated high school the previous may with Lisa who was still a little younger than you. Since school let out you practically lived at Graceland. Much to her and her daddy’s satisfaction.

Graduation night

The first incident happened after graduation night. You were over at Graceland (shocker.) It was dinner, congratulations and gifts mostly from Elvis but others in his circle came and gave you a pat on your back as well. You were just excited to be done with it and to have done it with Lisa by your side. After the grand dinner everyone departed in their respective areas. You and Elvis however went outside in the darkness of night and sat by the kidney sized pool. Lisa wanted to take a nap so she could stay up later and so it resulted in just the two of you staring at the blue light that illuminated the chlorinated water. Elvis nursed a little Roi-Tan cigar. His infamous orange sunglasses still pressed against his chubby face. He puffed those cheeks with every draw of his cigarette. He uses it as a crutch. In his youth it was biting nails or the wiggling of a leg, now it’s just the burning inhale of tabcco. The two of you stared at the stars. He pointed some out lazily. Explaining their relationship to the other stars along with the spirituality behind them. He told you to pick any star your little heart desires and he’d buy it for you. You giggled at his playful jest but when you looked over to his face you saw no hint of humor. He was dead serious. So, you pointed to the biggest and brightest one there was. That one, you said. He chuckled darkly to himself. You’re gonna make me go bankrupt, pretty baby! Then he huffed on his cigar more with a hint of a grin, and your cheeks burned. The cigar embers burned his thick golden fingers. His other hand laid flat on his blue track suit covered thigh. He took his index and drew stars by his knee. You spread your denim daisy duke legs out and relaxed into the chair. Lifting your hips up, your shirt raises up your pretty hips. He stared without abandon. God cursed him. Elvis was nothing but a devoted Christian and God cursed him. How did God curse him? God cursed him by being infatuated with a teenage girl. Even worse, his daughter's best friend. No, it wasn’t God’s curse. It was the Devil's temptation. He can’t wrap his head around you being nothing but an angel. He often told you how your soul was the prettiest thing to him. Your soul is older than your body. He wished that you had grown up with him, met his mama and daddy. Gotten married and settled down with him. When he told you that you weren’t sure how to feel, should you feel grateful that in an alternative universe that you could’ve been Lisa’s mother instead of friend or that it might still happen in this reality if given the chance. You knew of his exs, Lisa told you about them. You knew of his player status of objectifying women and not taking no for an answer. Whatever he wanted he got it. He stopped officially being with women in ‘77 after his engagement had broken off. He doesn’t talk about it much. Sure, he still has girls hang off his wide arm on occasion but it’s nothing serious. It was like he was saving himself for something. Something to grow older. He takes a long draw, tilting his head up and the smoke billows out like a cloud into the sky. His soft jaw and lips puckering when he does. He stares at the side of your face through his shades. Admiring from afar. He leans over to the ashtray on the table beside him and stuffs the cigar in the marbel where his initials are. You watch as his tracksuit starts to rise and the soft pudgy skin of his back starts to emerge. You treasured all the times you got to see his skin. He never showed it off like he did when he was younger. The only time you were blessed was when he wore normal shirts or felt a little scandalous by unzipping the jacket to his sternum, making sure to not show his round belly. You nibbled on your lip and cut your eyes to the North Star, making sure that he didn’t see your wandering eyes. It's silent as he huffs to turn around. He looks at your face again. Nothing but a little ole baby in a woman’s body. That- that very dangerous thought is what spurs him on.

“Are you a virgin?”

You choke, eyes wide, mouth dry. You can’t look at him and your body is stiff and straight. Begging the North Star for guidance.

“W-what?”

He chuckles. The wrinkles on his face deepening as he smiles.

“Ya heard me lil darlin’.”

You nod and blink slowly, trying to find a way to divert the conversation.

“Why do you ask?”

His wide shoulders shrug and he pushes the bridge of his sunglasses down, you see the bloodshot veins in his eyes.

“Sometimes when I see you around my friends’ boys you don’t care ‘bout ‘em, like yisa does,”

He pauses. His hand on his thigh moves to his face and he scratches his chin and rests his face in his palm. His elbow on the armrest of the lawn chair.

“Ya couldn’t be more bored in ‘em.”

His fat tongue swipes over his plump lip. His eyes flick across your face, baiting you for a reaction.

“But when your ’round me you act like you’ve never been ‘round ‘nother man in your entire yittle life.”

Movie night

Elvis rented out a theater in Memphis near Graceland to watch The Way of All Flesh his favorite movie. Often he would do this. It didn’t matter how many times he saw it or forced you and Lisa to, he’d visit it again. Lisa complained about not watching something different like the goonies or the breakfast club, and you were just happy to be there. He didn’t care about Lisa’s cries of protest and change. He liked his 1927 black and white movie, he wouldn’t hear anything else about it but praise. He sat between you and Lisa in the back below the projector as it ran. He had his arm around Lisa’s shoulders, hugging her to his own. She yawned watching the banker find his life flipped upside down. As for you? He had his fat palm on the inside of your bare thigh. The warmth blistered your skin. The rings were heavy on your soft skin. His orange sunglasses were tucked into his white tracksuit zipper. You didn’t watch the movie as his hand danced along the inside of your thigh. You watched his broad face. Your lips pouted as you wondered what his game was. What was he trying to do? He wasn’t trying to do anything which resulted in you over analyzing the situation which ultimately is what he wanted. He wanted to get inside your little head. Wanted you to think of him. Obsess over him. You trail your eyes over the dips and curves of his plump aged face. His blue eyes catch your own and the gaze is held between you for a few minutes. He doesn’t speak a word and all you do is breathe. His hand doesn’t move and the unspoken power is acknowledged, along with his shit eating grin.

The kiss

You hadn’t visited in two weeks. You called Lisa and told her work had gotten in the way of your visits and she understood. She tried to emphasize that to Elvis but he didn’t care. You were being a ghost and he couldn’t handle it anymore. He’s been so gracious to you, so loving and you decide to abandon his family? He was going to lose his mind. He became short with everyone, the mafia, the maids, even being short with Lisa. He was a grumpy old man. While you were at work your parents had paged you at least a hundred times over. You were confused, exhausted, and frustrated. All you wanted was to lay down and get some sleep. You went to the bathroom and read the slow news.

“Urgent...”

“Elvis…blowing..up..phone..”

“Hurry..home…”

You sighed. When you did get home, you asked about whats wrong with Elvis and your parents told you that he’d rather talk to you in person. You nodded and packed an over night bag, ate dinner with your parents and bid them goodbye before getting in the cherry red Audi Coupe GT Elvis had gotten you and drove to Graceland.

It was dark and hot in the summer heat when you arrived at the gates. You didn’t have to mutter your name to the guard since you’ve visited so often. You pull up in front of the white stairs and your stomach drops. Anxiety flashes over you. What if he’s mad? What if he prohibits you from ever seeing Lisa again? Ever seeing him again? You breathe cautiously. Turning the car off and grabbing the duffel bag you packed and walking to the door. Before you raised your closed fist to knock the door swings open. You hear Lisa watching tv in the living room. It’s Growing Pains. He’s wearing a black tracksuit and his sunglasses are a baby blue like his eyes when they’re not bloodshot. He holds the door open with one of his hands and just stands in front of you like a wall. He’s staring at you. Eyes glossy. One of his nostrils dusted white. You open your mouth to apologize but before you could utter a word he takes the sides of your face in his hands and places his lips onto yours. He cranes his head down and tilts your face up. His gut pushing against your stomach. Your eyes are wide and you drop both your keys and the bag outside Graceland’s door. His lips are so much softer than you anticipated. His rings catch on your hair, but the slight pull burns into your stomach and makes your heart beat faster. He doesn’t press his tongue into your mouth, the pressure of his lips is enough to drive you into a frenzy. You can’t. When he finally does move away, it’s slow and staggered. His eyes are closed and his breathing is unsteady. He’s winded from kissing. He sweeps his thumbs over the bones on both side of your cheeks. Watching the burning sun in your eyes. You open and close your mouth like a fish. He just smiles lopsidedly, his smile lines and crows feet deepening. He presses a chaste kiss onto your lips.

“Don’t tell yisa.”

His lips brushes against yours as he speaks before pulling himself away completely. He crouches with a moan to your feet and picks up your keys and bag and walks up the foyer. You stand there puzzled, and sexually frustrated.

The picture

It was a blistering hot day in June. Elvis hosted a barbecue for his family and friends. For no particular reason other than to reminisce about the old days of his career. He’s been out of the performing business since ‘77 and now just produces his own recording company, giving kids like him a shot at making music. He wore a red tracksuit, with golden sunglasses. (One of those special occasions where he had the zipper down his sternum.) He didn’t go outside much that day since it was so hot, so he stayed inside Graceland with some of the older musicians and family who didn’t care to be outside either. He stayed by the window that looked the pool though. Watching you sunbathe and Lisa talk to some boys while swimming. Little kids ran throughout his property with water guns and balloons. Some of his colleagues tried to talk to him, he’d just mumble mhm. Never leaving the sight of you in a swimsuit top and a little denim skirt with bare feet. A boy came over to you, trying to talk and you didn’t care. Mumbling mhms. Priscilla visited and tried to talk to him about Lisa and doing things as a family and he didn’t care.

At 5, nearly sundown everyone gathered outside with three picnic tables pushed together as dinner was served. Crickets crowed and frogs croaked. He didn’t get a say who sat by him on the arrangement, he’d rather have you and Lisa sitting next to him than just Priscilla. They prayed before eating and he prayed that God would stop this little crush he had on you. He looked up from his bowed head and saw your breasts pushed together in that stringy bra and bowed his head to pray harder.

“Amen.”

The dinner was good and prestigious. He made jokes and smirked small, laughing mostly at Charlie’s jokes. Priscilla’s little hand was on top of his thigh and he couldn’t care, he watched you eat a hot dog like no other. His burger was a bit charred which was fine, but he only took a couple bites before retiring it. He watched you and Lisa whisper and giggle over some boys Lisa stared at. Droplets. Nothing more than a couple drops of ketchup fell on your bare chest and he felt himself throb. The tracksuit tightening around his burly thighs. He sips on his canned Pepsi. You don’t notice the smeared ketchup on your breasts as you move to look around and talk. Priscilla looked to her side as she talked with some older married woman about life. Priscilla’s hand cupped the side of his cock and he jumped. Letting go of his can of Pepsi.

“Jesus!”

He cut his eyes over to Priscilla and she took her hand off of his thigh and he groaned. He crouched down onto the grass below the table. Looking for the can. He pauses like a kid finding cookies. Finding snatch. His heart hammers and he adjusts his growing bulge. He pushes his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to the bulbous tip to fully look at the situation. His mouth nearly dripping with drool.

“No pannies.”

His thick drawl comes out as he whispers the revelation to himself. You spread your legs out wider and his breath stops. Hairless. Glistening. Untouched. He nearly sticks his wide tongue out to lap a fat stripe down and up your wet cunt. He wonders who did this to little miss darlin’? How’d her little pussy get so wet on his bench? How’d just looking at it gets him higher than any Miami coke. Then his heart strikes out. He sees Lisa’s head pop out on the other side of the bench a concerned look written across his face.

“D’you need help getting up, daddy? I know how bad your back is!”

He chokes and snatches up the can. He pushes up his sunglasses and sitting upright and the small of his back begins to ache. He looks at you and you smile dumbly.

“‘M fine.”

Priscilla looks at him then back at the soda can he threw on the table with a scoff. He sighs asking God for a blessing.

“Picture time, y’all!”

He stands in the back with more of the taller men and ladies were. He morphed into the back, not caring to be seen. Priscilla stood up front as well as Lisa. You stood in front of Elvis and he took your hips in his meaty hands. You jumped before realizing who it was. He whispered a husky. Jus’ me, pretty baby. He rested his chin on the top of your messy hair. He pressed his front up to your back and you raised on your tiptoes and he nearly came. The pressure of your firm ass pressing against the tucked head of his dick was enough for his eyes to roll back in his head. He needed to get one of his sleeping pills after. The rush of coke and the adrenaline of sex is too much to bear. He’s sweating bullets. You smile wide at the announce of cheese. Slapping his squeezing hands on the sides of your hips.

“Say cheese, big daddy.”

He smirks a little and swivels his hips so his hard on is pressed right up against the cheeks of your ass. For the first time in months he smiles to the point where his wrinkles are creased and he looks young, taking pictures in front of Graceland.

“Cheese.”

Fast food

It was a lazy Sunday after church. Elvis didn’t want to wait until he got to Graceland to eat so he took Lisa and you out to eat at McDonalds. He was starting to get a headache from only doing a milligram of coke before church. He asked before getting to the intercom what each of you wanted before Lisa and you decided to share an order and get a couple of large Coke’s. The only time he wore anything other than a tracksuit was to church and his recording company’s meetings. It was a simple black suit with no tie and a few of the buttons at the top unbuttoned. He was sweating profusely with the skin tight fabric. He thought he’d be able to fit in the old suit. It hadn’t been since a couple weeks since he last put it on. He was going to have to get on those weight loss pills again. He sighed and order a couple McDLT’s with no onions, no mayonnaise, mustard, or ketchup and a large Pepsi. He was content with not having to deal with being asked for autographs or pictures anymore. Occasionally there’d be the oddball who’d recognize him and asked for a memento and he’d graciously give it to them. He doesn’t miss the constant paranoia of who knows him and who watches. He listens to the conversation between the two of you talking about musicians and media. Lisa talks about Madonna and you talk about how Cher is still relevant. He pays and pulls up to the next window. It’s another twenty minute wait. He looks up through the rearview mirror through his black shades, watching you gush over Cass Elliott. Admiring the way you talk with your hands and the sheer white sundress you’re wearing. How Lisa matches your enthusiasm. The young clerk finally hands the food over and he leaves in the passenger seat as he drives to a nearby parking lot that oversees the traffic. He often liked sitting and watching the people and making up stories for them. Where they’ve been and where they’re going. He pulls to a stop and the chattering stops. He looks back and sees two sets of grabby hands luring him to give food away. He smirks softly and grabs the tray of large drinks and hands it to you. The banter continues as Lisa shoves your shoulder and you dump the drinks onto his lap. He freezes.

“F-fuck!”

Posture straight, hands up, shaking. It’s deathly quiet, not a word spoken. You’ve only seen Elvis angry a handful of times. Him pissed was a different situation entirely. Both you and Lisa utter apologies without abandon. He starts picking off the huge ice cubes and as he does you lean over the arm rest and start wiping off the Coke and ice off his fat thighs into the floorboards. His paunchy stomach tightening as you brush over his flaccid (hardening) cock. He watches your bare tits hang loose in your sundress. The perky nipples coming through. He thanked God for the no bras movement and watched you lazily hang onto his thigh. You smile like a bimbo when you’re done and rifle through the bag for napkins and press them down onto his soaked lap. After you felt like you did all you could do you leaned back and kissed his aged cheek. He apologized for getting angry and swearing. He went through the paper bag and handed out food. While unwrapping his first burger, his face scrunches and he throws the burger on the passenger window. He whips the car into the reverse and spurs out of the parking lot. As you look to the window you see onions, mayonnaise, mustard, and ketchup splattered on the window.

Pool Side View

He sat in one of the lawn chairs in a his DEA tracksuit, white bucket hat, and golden sunglasses. He was coked out and barely functioning. July was one of his busiest months and he couldn’t keep up with it all. He’s trying to read one of his spiritual books while smoking one of his cigars. He kept a prying eye on you and Lisa swimming in the pool. You had left for a couple days, to get some clothes which he resented. He simply would’ve bought you more. You had your own room at Graceland for fuck’s sake. He made you quit your job after the instance where you ghosted him. He never wanted you to leave. The swimming suit was big on you. He had bought you a swimsuit that was two pieces and a little big on you since he didn’t know your exact size. You guessed he did it on purpose. Lisa proposed for you to wear one of hers but she was a little skinner than you so you politely declined. Lisa and you were performing ungraceful water aerobics. Going underwater and kicking your feet up in the air and kicking them. Both of you kept chirping at Elvis to watch you perform. However one of the times you went under and came back up, your top had untied. You didn’t realize it until Lisa told you with a giggle. You were mortified, your mouth dropped open as you grabbed the floating article of clothing. You looked at Elvis and his sunglasses were perched lower as his strung out eyes watched you like a hawk. He couldn’t figure out if the coke was bad and he was having a hallucination or if what he did see was real. Did he see dirty little pillows with pretty nipples or did he dream that? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t question it. The stream of smoke by his head and he puffs. Taking his book back into his palm as Lisa ties your top back on. He pushes his palm over the base of his dick trying to push the blood elsewhere. I like that trick, do it again. He smiles to himself at the cynical joke. If only it wasn’t just a joke.

Polaroids

More than once Lisa reassured you that her dad wasn’t a creep, he was just overly sentimental and affectionate. It was just southern hospitality she reiterated over and over. It was late at night and Lisa and you were in your nightgowns in the living room, wrestling and laughing loudly. Watching Saturday night wrestling and reenacting some of the positions. Some nights you both would sleep in the living room to scare the maids when they first come out to work. The tv was the only light on, other than Elvis’s lamp light that he used to read one of his spirituality books. He was in his satin emblem pajamas. He wore reading glasses with the chain necklace around them. Every now and again Lisa and you would ask him to watch and you’d accidentally flash him. He’d blush and his stomach would start to stir. The thing that made him get his Polaroid camera was when you straddled a pillow between your little thighs and started to hump it. Intentionally or not, he didn’t care. He went into his room, grabbed his wallet where he kept the film in and the camera itself and went back into the living room. You were laid diagonal on the couch, your nightgown off and just in little cotton white with pink bows on them bra and panty. Your head was hanging off the couch and your legs were kicked up on the headboard. He got on his knees in front of your face and you smiled. The click and motor of the camera blinded you momentarily before he asked you to model which you replied attentively to. He asked you to pose in various positions. Running his fingers and palms over your body to smooth out the rigidness of your body. You watched Lisa stare into the tv, ignoring the photoshoot happening behind her. You wondered if this was appropriate and you remembered what she said about southern hospitality. He made you sit on his lap where you can feel the pressure of his bulge up against your clothed pussy. He lightly cupped the front of your throat and pushed your head back into his shoulder and your back pressed up against his chest. You feel his glasses pinch at your back. His rings biting into your neck. He raises the camera in front of your faces and it clicks. His lips brush over the shell of your ear as his voice drops to an octave lower. The tone where he used to sing.

“Wancha ta hump me like you did the piller little miss.”

You look at the back of Lisa’s blonde head. Your body is scorching hot. Your clit throbbing as his dick bobs with every buck of your hips. You move quicker, more desperate. Click. The Polaroid falls to his feet. You feel his stomach bounce with every gyrate. Click. If he could he’d hump back up into your wet little snatch. But his poor achy old back isn’t used to his 20yr old libido. The 50yr old man’s body isn’t adept to pleasing a pretty young 18yr old, but in this moment. The moment where your panties are soaked and catching on the outside of his pajamas pants, he thinks it doesn’t matter. Lisa shouts if you saw that move and you choke out a yes. Whether it was to Elvis’ fat fingers constricting your airways or the fact the friction is going to make you cum. Click. Your body starts to shake and pulse and he pulls you back to his chest. His thick stomach pushing into your back as he holds his palm over your mouth.

“Don’t say a word.”

He places the camera on the seat beside this thigh, running that hand flat over your stomach and to the hem of your panties. He plays with it. Running the fabric in his palm. Closing his fist and letting his gold rings run over it. He sticks his hand flat and into your panties. His palm flat on your mound, his middle and ring fingers play with your throbbing clit. The sight is ungodly. His big hand between your legs causing your panties to stretch out on your thighs. He whispers pretty words into your ear as he huffs. Your body spasms and shakes. Your cunt tightening over nothing as you cum. He pats your clit a couple times before removing his hand and wiping it on the your stomach by your belly button. He turns your head to the side and presses his lips to the side of your head. He pulls you off of his lap, picking up his camera and the fallen Polaroids up. He walks up into his room to finish what he started.

A couple days later you and Lisa decided to go to the mall to find some WWE shirts for an upcoming show. You told Elvis about the event and how you needed some money as he ate a peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwich. He nodded as he read the news, only half listening. Telling you to make sure that you have a driver and couple of the mafia guys to escort you and that his wallet was in his room. You giddily kissed his cheek and he smiled softly. You bounded up the stairs and into his room, finding his wallet where it normally was on his dresser. You opened it and as you pulled out a wad of one hundreds you gasped. The Polaroid of you on his lap fell out as well as pictures of him, Lisa and you at the aquarium. You grabbed at least a grand and shoved the Polaroids back in where you found it. Going to Lisa’s room and announcing that their allowance came early. Southern hospitality, you reminded yourself.

The letter

It was Sunday afternoon once again. Sometimes Elvis would get in this religious frenzy that church couldn’t even soothe. You and Lisa sat in front of his feet as he sat on the couch preaching. He had gotten to this one verse that he couldn’t seem to remember which was strange because he could remember a book start to finish as soon as he was done reading it. You watched as his bare bloodshot eyes wandered everywhere, searching for his words. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s disappointed in himself. He’s not as good of a Christian as he wants to be. He reaches down and holds your hand, staring into your eyes with such a softness that not even a cult member could obtain.

“Would you be a doll and get my Bible from my nightstand by my bed?”

You nodded eagerly and with an of course. He kissed the back of your hand as you stood up and walked to the stairs. He resumed his preaching to a different sermon to Lisa while you found his Bible. You walked into his room as you have a thousand times before and looked in his nightstand. Religious books and notes, medications. His coke. Nothing about the Holy book. You looked at the bottom drawer and you found it. Saying to yourself a little aha. However when you picked it up you found an envelope addressed to you. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you placed the book on his bed and picked up the letter. You had a moral confliction within yourself whether to open it or not. You finally decided to when you realized that he must’ve wanted you to read it eventually, right? You tore open the top of the envelope and took out the orange paper that he used for his notes and began to read.

“Dear little miss darlin’

“I don’t even know where to begin. I can’t even hardly see with how much I’ve sniffed. My hands are shaky and I’m nervous honey. For the first time in twenty years I’m nervous. I’m nervous about our encounters and if little yisa would find out. God, please don’t let her find out. I love you both too much for that to happen. I’m perverted and vile. I’m too far gone to be saved, I realize this now. I’ve prayed to God countless nights on my knees for him to fix it. To make me see you as nothing as my daughter’s friend, but pretty baby. Every time I look at you, or think about you, those sinful feelings start bubbling from my stomach and I can’t help them. I ain’t a strong man. I wish I could be so I can stop torturing myself with the thought of you. The thought of burying myself inside you and never leaving. Every woman I’ve been with, every woman I’ve fucked. I thought of you. I can’t get there anymore without thinking about you. I need help yittle one. I need your help. I need you to drain me so I can be whole again. I need you, I need you, I need you. God help me.”

“To be carnally minded is death; But to be spiritually minded is life and peace.”

His voice jolts you. He stands at the foot of the bed. He looks like a kicked dog. He’s ashamed.

“Romans 8:6, that is the verse I couldn’t remember.”

He shakes his head. Chuckling lightly, he runs a hand through his messy dark hair. You stare at him. Glancing back and forth at the letter and him.

“When did you write this?”

“After the Polaroid instance.”

You nod, speechless. Tormented. You want to be with him. You love him, but you know it’d never work. It’d have to be a secret for eternity. A secret that’s going to tear both of you from the inside out.

“So what are we?”

You ask shakily, dreading the answer. His face is grim and his eyes are glassy.

“Star-crossed lovers.”

#xreader #fanfic #smut #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader smut #dark smut #dark Elvis #elvis x reader #elvis smut #70s elvis #80s #80s Elvis #dark themes #big age gap #big daddy elvis

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 17 days

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maybe i’m just ovulating but imagine elvis as a hot cult leader -

HEAR ME OUT

it would be culty bc his followers would be obsessed with him but like no drink the kool aid vibes

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 21 days

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Twenty-three year old Dolly Parton performs My Blue Ridge Mountain Boy at Nashville’s Grand Ole Opry in 1969.

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 22 days

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70s baby

obsessed with this pic atm

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 27 days

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Kissin’ bunnies

The Easter bunny is a little frisky.

Elvis Presley x reader! Fluff.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Just some making out, groping and talk of sex.

A/n: “As always I’m sorry for being gone for so long. I am writing behind the scenes but between work and school I don’t have as much time as I used to. However my love for Elvis is unyielding and I’ll always find time for him. “

Bending down placing the perfectly manicured eggs into little pivots on the ground. Your woven pink basket was full of grass paper and decorative eggs. The children from his family and yours came together and worked hard on them. The children stuck their noses to the windows, watching the adults who weren’t talking place the eggs around Graceland. The maids worked diligently to prepare for the late Easter lunch. Whipping up deviled eggs, greens, and sauerkraut. You placed one down every few feet or so along Elvis’s mother’s garden. You always admire her garden that she maintained before she passed. Elvis and her garden were her proudest accomplishments.

You anticipated when Elvis would be making his appearance you hadn’t seen him since church this morning. He announced shortly after the ceremony that he had some business to attend to with Mr Parker and an RCA obligation however the day had grown into the afternoon and Miss Lisa Marie was growing into a feverish tantrum from her fathers departure. She was a daddy’s girl through and through, no matter how hard you persuaded her she never budged. She was a stubborn little lady just like her daddy. You told them no and they’ll find an alternative to get what they wanted.

The little straw hat on your head, blocked the beating hot sun. Springtime had been cruel in Memphis. The church dress around your bare ankles helped the heat simmer to a light sweat. The chickens and horses chattering lightly. Your body is warm with excitement to see Lisa’s sweet little smile. The bottom of your bare feet catches cool soil. You begin to round the end of Gracelands exterior. Bending down and placing one by her tomatoes. As your little fingers leave the egg, you feel your hat fly off your head. You gasped, your hands flew to try to catch it but it was taken by a furry white blur. Looking up you watch a furry foot go behind the wall. You were seeing things weren’t you? Imagining the Easter bunny itself stealing your hat. Your brows furrowed and your mouth turned down into a frown. You lifted from your squatting position and wiped your hands on the skirt of your dress. Leaving your basket half full with eggs you trail after the bandit.

As you stick your bare foot out, you're enveloped into a furry chest and arms. One of them holds over your waist to keep you pressed against the bunnies chest. The other is over your mouth. Your yelp is muffled behind the big paw. Fear strikes over you as you begin to realize that you don’t know who's behind the mask. Maybe it was one of the boys in Elvis’s mafia. Maybe even one of his cousins- still, you didn’t know the intention or who they were. Your poor little hat has been thrown into the dirt. Your back is rigidly straight and surely the bunny is able to feel your heartbeat against your chest. You can hear the bunnies' heavy breathing and hum. What does the bunny want?

“If I remove my hand will you promise not to scream?”

The bunny mumbles behind your ear. Your eyes narrow, trying to place a face to the masked culprit. You give a curt nod. The bunny lets go and immediately you spin around taking the big bunny head by the ears and pulling it off like a scooby doo reveal and throwing it on the ground. You're met with the sweaty face of Elvis with a sheepish smile. You shove his chest and his back hits the outside of the house.

“You scared me!”

He giggles as a bead of sweat runs down his temple.

“I try my best.”

He stands and cups your face with the bunny paws, pinching your cheeks. He puckers his lips out like he’s talking to a baby.

“Make your cheeks all red..”

Your eyes go wide and you swing your arms out to cut him from touching you. He smiles wider. He wipes his brow with the back of the bunny arm. His tan skin pouring sweat like he does after a show. His hair was matted to his face and neck, his sideburns shone with a misty dew. He has a cheeky goofy smile on his face. Those bright blues glistening with mischief.

“It’s hotter than hell bein’ a bunny.”

You giggle slightly at his confession. You can only imagine how warm it is being a faux fur in 100 degree weather.

“You think that’s funny, huh?”

He fakes being angry and stops leaning on the house to grab your hips and push you back where he was. A soft gasp is pushed through your body. He tried his best at tickling your sides to make you laugh but the bunny paws were too much. They felt like pillows feathers. You had to beg him to stop or you were going to pee. He kept saying ‘you think it’s funny’ as a mantra. When he did stop, he took big paws full of your hips and squeezed. Your dress bunching around your waist.

“Thought you had rabies, mister rabbit.”

His eyes are downcasted to your lips. His smile has turned into a light smirk. He shakes his head as a few droplets bead and roll down his neck.

“There's no such thing.”

“Oh yes there is, you remember the bunny Lisa caught and was so proud of. It bit her and we had to take her to get shots and you prohibited any bunnies or rabbits on Graceland properties?”

His eyes glance to the sky and he narrows them as he thinks. You lean up on your toes and whisper into his ear cupping your hands around it to make sure he heard you loud and clear.

“It was also the time you joked about us fucking like rabbits when it’s ‘cillas weekend.”

His wolfish grin returns and he nods.

“That rings a bell actually.”

You smile lightly.

“I’m sure it does.”

Your snarky attitude comes like a wave and he scrunches up his nose mocking you. He takes the back of your head and pushes it to his face pressing his warm plush lips against yours. It’s not chaste and it’s not rushed, it’s slow and methodical. Longing, a yearning of pent up frustration. His kisses hold so much emotion in them, that he doesn’t need to speak how he feels in order to be understood. As he presses his tongue onto yours you taste the lemonade and Pepsi he’s had, the deviled eggs he must’ve begged Minnie for a taste for. You move your body against his as he tends to sway when he kisses. Like his very own choreographed dance. The kiss doesn’t last long but the admiration and attention does.

A cowbell rings and Miss Nancy yells out for the late lunch to begin. He parts and a string of saliva is kept between the two of you. He gives a dopey little smile and kisses your nose.

“We'll finish this little rendezvous later.”

“Only if I see you start hopping around”

He rolls his eyes with a sigh and his hands balled up on his hips.

“You’re kidding satnin’”

You shake your head crossing your arms over your chest. He watches as your cleavage starts to spill over. He groans and points a furry finger in your face with a raised eyebrow and his famous snarl.

“If I hear you tell anybody ‘bout this, I’ll make sure that this is your last Easter.”

You nod swearing it and you can’t help the smile crossing your face, as he puts his arms to his sides and starts ungracefully hopping around. You take a fistful of your dress as you start running back to the front door of Graceland. Yelling like a wild woman, “I kissed the Easter bunny!”

#xreader #fanfic #fluff #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis #send me asks #elvis x reader #70s elvis #elvis the king #elvis the pelvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis fans #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #Elvis x reader fluff #Elvis Presley x reader fluff #easter

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 28 days

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March 29, 1970

Elvis spent Easter time traveling back and forth between Los Angeles, Palm Springs and Las Vegas, never staying at each location more than a couple of days. Elvis and Priscilla bought a house at 845 Chino Canyon in Palm Springs just a few days later.

Elvis hides eggs for Lisa Marie then wins the egg contest by finding his in the fridge.

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 1 month

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Elvis during his comeback special, 1968💗

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 1 month

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my takeaway from dune: part 2

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 2 months

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed.

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before.

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother.

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious.

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the more rowdy of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.”

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger.

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early.

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast.

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free.

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie.

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home.

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar.

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals.

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries.

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed.

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience.

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you.

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress.

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind.

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand.

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you.

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.”

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling.

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you.

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door.

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead.

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you.

“As they have been taught, your reverence.”

In this room, here in front of this woman, your mother was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years.

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down.

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.”

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection.

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you.

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful.

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before.

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door.

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you.

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face.

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you.

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?”

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one.

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down.

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting.

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat.

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction.

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight.

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep.

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.”

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head.

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.”

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room.

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen.

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful. “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime.

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different?

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different.

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew.

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with.

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing.

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap.

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively.

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face.

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke.

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.”

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for.

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly.

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul.

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted.

“Soon.”

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up.

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation.

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly.

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent.

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better.

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right.

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach.

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence.

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive.

But god, you wanted to live.

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer.

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front.

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression.

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view.

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability.

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd.

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime.

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago.

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you.

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?”

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes.

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side.

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements.

The two of you were communicating.

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?”

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you.

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days.

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child.

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him now. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him. He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress.

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in.

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother.

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it.

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of.

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves.

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position.

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you.

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin.

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this.

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime.

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge.

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?”

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter.

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing.

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.”

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame.

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir.

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.”

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough.

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before.

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed.

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain.

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover.

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer.

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying.

Animal, indeed.

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

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