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youaintnothinbuta · 10 days

Note

could u write something for austin where reader is obsessed with his hair especially when she goes with him on set and they get wet bc he’s sweating too much, and once it turns her on sm that it ends up with him eating her out with her hands buried in them and when it’s too much she pulls it a little harder and austin just loves it

“You're so good at this.” — austin butler x reader

Summary: see request^^

Pairing: austin butler x fem!reader

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mature language, oral (f receiving), probably typos im sorryyyy

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You stood nervously outside the set of Masters of the Air, clutching your pass, waiting to be let in. Your boyfriend, Austin, was in the middle of filming, and you didn't want be any cause of distraction. His manager, a familiar face to you, greeted you and whispered, “Just slip in quietly, Y/N. They should be done with these takes in about 20 minutes.”

You nodded, your heart racing with excitement, as you followed her onto the set. The lights were blindingly bright, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and costume fabric. You spotted Austin immediately, his chiseled features set in a determined expression as he delivered his lines. His voice too —deep, commanding, and authoritative— it sent shivers down your spine as he barked orders at his fellow actors.

You sat down quietly and out of view of him and any of the other actors. You couldn't help but notice how good he looked, his blonde hair mussed and his eyes gleaming with intensity. The layered costume added bulk to his already impressive physique, and the sweat dripping down his face only added to his sexiness. You felt that familiar fire ignite in your tummy as you watched your man at work. You pressed your thighs firmly together, trying to contain the desire that was building inside you.

After what felt like an eternity, the director called for a lunch break, and immediately the chatter in the room began.

“Austin!” You called. He perked up, a bright smile spreading across his face as he heard your voice, his eyes locking onto yours instantly.

“Baby, hi,” he said, striding towards you with long, purposeful strides.

You smiled, feeling a little shy but also incredibly turned on. You felt a flutter in your chest as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

“I didn't know you were coming today,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Sorry,” he apologised for being sweaty, tugging on his thick coat, “I feel like I’m melting in this thing.”

"I wanted to surprise you," you whispered back, your hands sliding up his chest to toy with the buttons on his costume, “and you look amazing.”

Austin chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Do I?”

You nodded, responding to him. You found yourself getting more and more turned on by Austin's proximity. You could smell the sweat on his skin mixing with his cologne, feel the heat radiating from his body, and see the way his eyes seemed to devour you, and the way his wet hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck. You knew you had to get him alone, and fast.

“How long do you have?” You asked, your words came out heavy, thick with desire.

Austin's eyes narrowed, his pupils dilating with interest. “40 minutes ish, why?”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear. “I need you,” you whispered, the words sending a thrill through your entire body.

Austin's eyes flashed with desire, and he pulled back, his face set in a determined expression. “Let's find a quiet spot,” he growled, taking your hand, leading you to his trailer, the door closing behind you with a soft click. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was on his knees, his fingers deftly undoing your pants and pulling them down. His mouth closed over your pussy with a hungry growl.

"I've missed you," he said, his voice low and husky. You felt your body respond to his words, your nipples hardening beneath your shirt. His fingers dug into your skin as he pulled your core even closer to his lips.

You moaned as his hot breath washed over your skin, his tongue darting out to taste you. Your hands buried themselves in his hair, the soft strands tangling around your fingers as you pulled him closer.

“Fuck, Austin,” you breathed, your body trembling with pleasure. “You're so good at this.”

He chuckled against your flesh, “I know.”

He groaned, allowing you to feel the vibrations of his vocal cords, his mouth working magic on your clit. He slid his middle finger inside of you, curling upwards as his tongue lapped over your most sensitive spot. You gasped, your body tightening around his finger as he pumped it in and out of you. Your legs began to shake. You felt yourself building towards orgasm, your hands tightening in his hair as you tugged and pulled.

“Yes, baby, like that,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin.

Austin loved when you pulled at his hair, and he responded by increasing the pressure, his tongue lashing against you with reckless abandon. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge, your body coiling tighter and tighter.

You were so close, your body trembling with anticipation. The pleasure was getting too much, you pulled his head back by his hair, when you finally let out a loud cry and came all over his face. Austin groaned, his eyes closed in ecstasy, as you pulsed against his mouth.

He gently pressed his tongue on your clit, allowing you to milk yourself of your orgasm using his face until you were empty.

For a moment, you just sat there, panting and trembling, as Austin slowly got to his feet, his face smeared with your juices. He smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, and pulled you into a deep, wet kiss, his saliva and yours mixing with your slick.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice husky.

“I love you too,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face too. Austin's gaze never left yours as he reached for a towel that was draped over the back of a nearby chair. He gently wiped the remnants of your orgasm from his chin. Then, with a gentle touch, he brought the towel between your legs, softly wiping away your fluid. The intimate gesture sent a flutter through your chest, and you felt your heart swell with affection for this man.

As he helped you to your feet, Austin's hands lingered on your waist, his fingers brushing against the skin beneath your shirt. He zipped up the fly of your jeans, then fastened the button with a gentle tug. The simple act felt like a declaration of ownership, a reminder that you belonged to him, and he to you.

“Come on, let’s get food,” Austin said, his voice still thick, as he held your hand, leading you back to the catering area. He handed you a plate and took one for himself, both of you eyeing all the delicious looking food that was provided. Just then, the ten-minute call rang out across the room, a reminder that your break was drawing to a close. Austin's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, his voice low and teasing.

“You’re terrible,” he kissed your temple, pulling your head to his chest, “making me miss out on half my lunch break like that.”

You laughed as you leaned into him, “I’ll return the favour tonight.”

His stomach flipped at your words, he shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Hush,” he teased, shoving a strawberry in your mouth. You bit down innocently, humming with delight at the sweetness.

a/n I know for a fact no one eats pussy like Austin Butler does end of conversation

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blackthornluce · 7 days

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the endless list of my favorite movies : Elvis (2022) co-produced and directed by Baz Luhrmann.

I just got to be making the most of this thing while I can. This could be over in a flash.

#aboutme #aboutmemovies #elvis #elvis 2022 #austin butler #olivia dejonge #gifs #movie #movies #movie edit #movie gifs #film #filmgifs #filmedit #filmtvedit #tvfilmedit #cinema #cinemaedit

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cowboylor · 2 years

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sloppy

pairing: austin butler x fem!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)

wc: 1k

warnings: (18+) smut, underlying dom/sub dynamics, oral (m. receiving), semi-public sex, facefucking oops, dirty talk, spit, co-star reader, no use of y/n

note; i wrote this on my phone at 2 am, without glasses and aquaphor smeared across my screen. enjoy! (it’s nasty but hey! it has character)

It was filthy ridiculous.

But then again, you were filthy ridiculous.

The buckle of his belt rubs against your cheek as you hollow your lips around him. Your skin burns at the friction and your eyes well up with tears as you peer up at him. His head is thrown back against the wall as he mumbles something incoherently. You draw your lips off him in an attempt to get a better look at him, but he yanks the root of your hair back down roughly. Filthy ridiculous.

“So messy,” Austin muses, loosening his grip on your hair to tenderly pull away stray strands that have fallen in front of your eyes. The corners of his mouth curve up into a grin as he watches you bob your head up and down. Almost cooing, he says, “Always so needy for me?”

You wish you could disagree but you know that wouldn’t be the truth. Because ten minutes ago you were mingling with the crew at the wrap party of your latest film, minding your business while nursing your drink. Now you’re on your knees for him in a public restroom.

His dick hits the back of your throat and you gag around him unexpectantly. Drawing his hips back he ruts into your mouth again. And again until you’re left steadying yourself by letting your fingernails dig into his thighs. He presses you forward with his hand, groaning lowly as he watches your lips graze the base.

“You like that?” You love that.

Saliva gathers at the corners of your mouth as he continues to stretch your mouth. You’ve given up trying to control the pace, opting to let him guide your head on his dick roughly and use your mouth however he pleases. (You’ll deny it vehemently later.)

Your fingers brush the back of his thigh, toying with his black dress pants to catch his attention. The harsh grip on the back of your head disappears, returning only to guide your mouth off him.

Toying with the tip, you rest your tongue under it, looking up at him as you do so. He huffs out a laugh at your expectant expression, drawing his hips back until he slips out of your mouth.

You reach up to stroke him up and down, clicking your jaw in an effort to relieve the soreness, “And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

Austin breathlessly chuckles like he’s out of breath. You hum at the sight, fighting off the smile that threatens your face. You pump him in your hand, running your thumb over his slick head.

“I like some things about you,” He murmurs, tracing his fingertips across your cheek before trailing down to your slightly parted lips. Experimentally, he toys with them until his fingers dip into your mouth, drawing your mouth into a wide stretch as he pulls at the edge. “For example...”

Your motions still momentarily, jerking him roughly one more time before you teasingly swirl your tongue over the pad of his fingertip. Growing impatient with your slow movements and your peering eyes that look up to tease him, he pulls his hand away.

Beginning to protest, Austin dismisses you by tilting your open mouth to meet his dick. You take him without complaint, inhaling sharply as his hips snap back into place.

“My sloppy girl,” He coos. “So dirty for me.”

You spare him a glance, practically mewling when you see him throw his head back against the wall. His sandy hair sticks to his forehead, some strands blocking his eyes as you notice the subtle shake of his body. His lips part as if he’s lost his next jeer that was to be directed at you.

His fingers thread your hair again, half-heartedly easing you off him, making your lips purse around his length. He mutters out a quick “Where do you want it?” as his motions become more staggered.

You don’t respond verbally, choosing to gaze up at him with wide eyes, practically egging him on to finish in your mouth. He stares back, chest rising and falling rapidly as you continue to jerk your lips against him.

“Good, good girl,” He hisses.

'Thought I was sloppy.’ You desperately want to quip.

He yanks your makeshift ponytail back so you’re looking at him. Ignoring the stinging and your internal urge to scowl at him for his blatant manhandling of you, you instead dip your head deeper. He pants as you don’t look away from him, hollowing your cheeks all the same.

He curses as he comes, throwing his head back as your tongue eagerly swirls around him. You’re careful when drawing your lips back, not wanting to let him drip out of your mouth. You imagine that he wouldn’t care even if some seeped past your lips. It didn’t matter; you wanted to show him how good you were.

After he buckles his pants and helps you up off the ground, he messes with the material of your dress. For a moment, you think he’s just being polite, fixing the ruffled material and pulling it down so it stays fitted around your waist. But you start to suspect him just lingering as you turn to face the mirror.

“I’d do anything to fuck you,” He then whispers, lips coming dangerously close to kissing your neck. His hands grope your ass, drawing your hips back against him, so close to bending you over the sink. His mouth draws against the shell of your ear, “Fuck you just like this.”

You hum, dragging a finger beneath your smudged lipstick. He continues to prod at your waist, running his hands down the curve of your body.

“You can only get so far with me in a public bathroom.”

He snorts a laugh, eyeing your lips. “Such a lady.”

“Take me home then,” You turn, your hand lightly pressing into his chest. He glances down at the touch, watching as you lean to whisper, “and I’ll show you ladylike.”

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis imagine #*my writing #send tweet

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violaobanion · 22 days

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AUSTIN BUTLER as CRYING ELVIS in ELVIS (2022), dir. Baz Luhrmann

Happy birthday, @springsteens! 💞

#austin butler #elvis #elvis 2022 #baz luhrmann #movieedits #moviegifs #filmedit #filmgifs #dailyflicks #cinematicsource #usershelby #springsteens #sorry not sorry for outing you my love

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surferblues · 2 years

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cherry red blow ! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

dilfelvis! austin butler x fem! reader

notes if you have a problem with 5-10 year age gaps , do not read 😵‍💫 because when i say i like dilfs... i mean DILFS

warnings smut (18+ only, minors dni), unprotected sex, intoxication, dom! elvis, praise, p in v, unestablished relationship, implied age gap, spelling errors, and obviously sexual themes.

Elvis knew who you were. Hell, all he could think about was you. He wasn't the one to get caught up with one girl, he was the type of guy who would sleep with any woman who offered .

And he was Elvis Presley, he could sleep with any woman if he could - all, but you.

He knew best to not fall under the impression you wanted him, that you were doing all that dressing up for him. You were a nanny hired by Priscilla, you made it clear the first day you were hired that you had no ill intentions of ruining the Presley name.

The way you walked around his home with those satin little dresses that covered only so much. The way you covered your lips in that damn cherry red lipstick. He couldn't help to think you knew what you were doing.

You u loved your job. truly, there was good pay, you got on so well with the presley family, the house was big and luxurious. people would kill to be in the position you were in.

You did what you usually did in preparation of coming in for your job. You made sure every hair was in place, you made sure that your clothes came from the finest sellers, and your lips always were layered in that cherry red lipstick.

You had been hired by Priscilla, her hopes of hiring a nanny to watch Lisa from time to time so Elvis and herself could rekindle the faded spark in their relationship.

You had some knowledge of their difficulties of their relationships, as you got front row view to the arguments they shared every night Elvis came home drunk with a groupie under his arm.

The pills, Elvis never being home, and the women were just helping points on why Priscilla found it so difficult to be in a relationship with Elvis. So it was safe to say you weren't surprised when Priscilla packed up her things and left Elvis, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

A part of you was relieved when you found out Elvis was a single man, another part of you was worried about it. Elvis always made it clear he went for younger girls, and with the ten year age gap between the two of you - you knew he had to think of you in such a dirty way.

it started off as a little crush, but you never pursued in actually doing anything with the older man in fear of risking your job. he was smart, and you assumed he wouldn’t ever go for the nanny of his daughter .

that was until you’d catch him eyeing your cherry glazed lips, the subtle touches near your hips when he would pass by you, and clever flirty comments began to slip out of his mouth.

something in your dynamic just... shifted.

it was one night when he arrived home from a long night of partying, and Lisa Marie was sound asleep in bed — he’d find you with a halfway full bottle of wine in your grasp.

your cheeks flushed, your words sloppily said.

"you've been out all night mr. presley."You giggled with a rasp, your eyes look over towards the door where the man stood, the slam of the front door indicating he just got to Graceland.

you took in his appearance as he came into eye view. the dark messy hair that was messy just in the perfect way, the way his tan chest peeked from the behind the white button up that was unbuttoned slightly, bloodshot eyes indicating that he may have partied a bit too hard.

just as you took him in, he took in the sight of you. your red lipstick smeared from your lips ever so slightly, your hair tousled, and the straps of your little dress falling off your shoulders as your back rested the marble table that stood in the middle of the fancy kitchen.

he began walking towards the small island where you stood, your eyes following every move he made.

"wasn't today your day off, darlin'?" he questioned curiously with that thick country twang, letting out a breathless shot of laughter before looking towards the direction where you were. "priscilla asked to me watch Lisa, she had some plans." you admitted.

he walked towards the the wooden cabinet where he kept his liquor, grabbing a empty small glass and a much larger glass full of burning liquor.

some part of you was telling you two remove yourself from the room, get as far away from Elvis as you could - but another part of you was screaming at you to stay, screaming at you to pursue your dangerous urges.

"If you prefer me to go, I can, Mr. Presley." You offered, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you watched Elvis's face for any sign of discomfort.

he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his body standing right across from you.

you saw the way his jaw clenched at the way you said his name, but that happened everytime the simple saying slipped out of your mouth, "oh, mr. presley."

"no, no, the more the merrier." Elvis's slurred out, pouring a shot of whiskey in his glass, hesitation laced in his voice but he quickly covered it with a shaky scoff.

"you know, it's good to call me just elvis." he met your eyes, cooing out his words. the playful expression that was on his face moments ago replaced with a more hesitant one.

"good for you or good for me?" you murmured out, your lips quirking up so riskily and daringly.

you were writing out a check you couldn't cash.

"it would save us from a whole 'lotta trouble." he raised his brows and tilted his head with a careless shrug, bringing the glass of liquor to his lips. his Adam's apple bobbing as the stinging liquid entered his body.

"trouble? i thought you liked trouble, mr. presley." you cocked your head, your words rolling off of your tounge so surely. you began readjusting your hips, the end of your satin dress riding up with every move you made.

he couldn't read the expression sprawled on your face, but you sure as hell could read his. his knitted brows, his eyes looking at you so intensely... reading you for any source of confirmation that the sinful thoughts in his head weren't only racing through his.

"i like a lot of things, sweetheart." elvis chuckled, setting down the glass of dark liqueur. his eyes taking a quick peek on the dress that was now bunched on your hips - a momentarily peek, a peek that was so quick that he was sure you wouldn't have saw.

"yeah?" you purred, deciding to be the one to make the first move out of the unspoken need you two shared. you decided to grab the glass he sat down moments ago and bring it your lips, the liquor was strong but you wouldn't show him that.

"uh, y... yeah." elvis choked out, clearing his throat as he felt sudden pressure on his cock. "good things cause a lot of trouble." he purred sinfully, he knew what your intentions were, he knew he wasn't reading this situation wrong... the next move was up to him.

he quickly recovered, shaking off the flustered state you put him in and returning to his cocky self. "good girl's, cause a lot of trouble." he teased in a readily manner, he lustfully over where you stood, watching you with nothing but pure amusement.

"oh, mr. Presley, kill me if im wrong. but i would assume your saying im a good girl?" you cooed, you quirked one of your brows, questioning the man infront of you. you sat your body on the counter, legs dangling as you looked at him curiously.

"isn't that you call a pretty little thing such as yourself, a good girl?" he rasped it so readily, his feet moved him few inches, just so he could stand in between your legs and look at your face.

your chest rose up and down in a needy way, your eyes watching the way his slowly wandered towards your bare hips. "i can be whatever your want, mr. presley." you handed him back his glass of liquor, a barely visible coat of cherry red lip stick on the rim of the glass.

"you’re gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?" he purred as he nodded, grabbing the glass from you, but never did he dare to look away from you. keeping his eyes on you as you felt his finger tips tap your soft thighs. those three taps, gesturing for you to open your legs so he could stand in between them.

and you listened, never did you hesitate. he looked down at your parted legs, oh god, how many times has he thought about this exact moment. he didn't know where to start, he just knew by before the night was over he would have kissed every inch of your body.

"how do you want me, baby?" one of his rough hands gently squeezed your hips, while the other finally began reaching the soaking lace panties that covered your pussy.

you felt his duo of fingers applying light pressure to your clit, causing a shaky whimper to leave your mouth.

"i... i just, " you trailed off, you looked down to see his hardened cock poking through his leather pants - you took a peek, a peek so quick you thought he wouldn't even notice.

"just need you inside me, mr. presley." you whimpered, rolling your hips up towards where he needed attention from you most - causing breathy moans to slip from his and your lips as you felt his needy dick rub you through your lace panties.

"that'ta girl." Elvis teased, he began slipping the wet pink lace off, a cocky smirk on his lips as he pickpocketing them. your hands traveled towards the zipper of his black leather pants, the sound of the zipper unzipping could be heard alongside your's and Elvis's needy breaths.

"so eager, baby?" he chuckled, the sound of the leather dropping to the floor - and just as quick as his pants were off, so were his boxers. there was nothing holding him back from fucking you.

precum on the tip of his hard dick, his body telling him he needed this more than anything.

" y'look so pretty like this, mama." he breathily cooed against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over your collar bones as you and him were chest to chest. you felt his hand gently hover over your lower abdomen, pressing ever so gentle - leaving you slightly confused.

his dick began grazing over the slit of your pussy, his precum mixing with the wetness of your pussy his words he squeezed out of you. your hands gripped his shoulders, getting yourself ready and steady.

he then lined his dick with your hole, he looked at you for confirmation. you nodded readily and quickly, moving your hips that he had been gripping up a few inches. "please." you whimpered, his tip in your hole, you just needed him to completely to enter you.

and as soon as you whimpered, you felt his dick slowly filling you up. his dick was bigger than any other dick that had entered your body before. you felt your walls tighten around him, your nails burying into his shoulders as his hands squeezed your hips.

"pussy was made for me." he didn't move, letting your needy hole get used to the feeling as you both let out incoherent whimpers. his eyes squeezed shut, head buried in your shoulder, and hot and heavy breaths following.

his dick hadn't left your hole all the way when he then snapped his hips into yours, taking you by surprise as you felt his hand lift your thigh around his waist - hoping to get access to the spot that would drive insane even if he slightly grazed over it.

he set a harsh but slow pace, each thrust was better than the other. you felt yourself subconsciously rocking against his, breathy whimpers and moans slipping from his mouth was only encouraging you to continue.

He was making you feel so good, like you expected him to. His dick seemed to be made for you, all of its veins and curves hitting the right spots inside you.

you felt his hand pressed against your lower abdomen again, but this you felt something else other than his hand.

he wanted you to feel him, inside and out. so you saw the bulge of his dick with each time he slammed into you, you could basically feel that familiar Spring coil form.

"s... so damn.. " he cut him self off with a harsh thrust in your pussy, causing you to let out a high pitched moan. " tight, just for ... me."

and just if you thought that was too much, you felt his fingers press against your swollen button. pressing and tracing circles around your wet clit as his dick dipped in and out.

This pleasure filled encounter couldn’t last forever, even if you wished it could. Soon enough your walls began to clench around him, making his thrust slow down to enjoy the way you squeezed. He was choking out moans into your ear, his voice raspy and shaky.

"elvis... m'close." you whimpered shakily, his hands guiding your hips as you felt his dick pulse, the familiar feeling of your pussy getting sensitive with each time his fingers and dick did their most.

and he made sure to touch that g spot, pushing his dick into so deep that you were sure to cum any moment. "fuck!" you breathlessly moaned, everything around you went hot when his dick hit that spongy spot.

"that'ta girl." he pressing down lightly on your lower stomach so you really felt him whilst shushing you.

it was like all of the juices you had been collecting had finally released just by his dick grazing that sweet spot, your vision went white, and your body jerked into his - his arm wrapped against your body, hugging against you as he rode out his high.

you could hear the sound of yours and Elvis's cum mixing, the shaky pants you two shared, something you would never forget.

tag list . . . !

@marinarose12 @rysssaa @domaniquessidehoe @wistoric @givemehickeysplease @mr-aurum @feral4austinbutler @pandora-journey @kissingrhi @ash-omalley @queendelrey @heartsbomb @djarinlgc @austinbutler4life @adoreyouusugar

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gar6agef1r3 · 2 years

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𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Elvis have known each other since you were little. As childhood friends you had always looked at Elvis differently, but he never seemed to indulge. After years you finally let him go and started to date. Bringing someone home ignites something in Elvis and he decides he wants you.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.6k

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬/𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: NSFW content! MDNI!, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, fingering, Elvis eating you out, Elvis being possessive, profanity, hickey, reader being a virgin, unprotected sex, cream pie, wet ass fucking pussy, overstimulation, giving commands, pet names, hiding your moans, dub!con ( drunk elvis x sober reader )

This is a filthy little thing that NO ONE asked for, and I mean no one. Was listening to Little Sister and sparked the idea. This has to be the longest fic I’ve ever written and I’d do it again.

The two of you grew up together. Your mother died at birth leaving your sister, your father, and you to fend for yourselves until Robert reunited with Gladys at an old high school reunion. She had taken you in as your own and helped your father raise you. You have been friends since you were little, but Elvis never seemed to take a liking to you in that way. It was always your older sister that he was so entranced by. Mind you, Elvis and you were the same age born only a few months apart but it was always the older women that the man would chase after. He was like a puppy when it came to her, following her around the house and bending at her every will.

For a long time, it made you sick, knowing he would never feel anything more than the sibling love he had for you. As you got older those feelings soon diminished and as it so happened Elvis and your sister did end up dating for a short period. At 20 you finally started dating, enthralling yourself in the partner you had. Oddly enough he was very much like Elvis in the way he carried himself and talked in that low slow southern drawl that made your head spin.

Though his hair was a curly mop on his head and his eyes were nowhere near as blue as Elvis’. Nonetheless, you loved him all the same and you gave your heart to him. The two of you had been going out for two months and tonight was the night you were going to introduce him to everyone. You sat in your room reading a magazine, one laced socked foot hung off the bed swinging slowly as you read. You were wearing your favorite light pink dress that you had begged your father to buy, it was the type of dress a young woman would wear that hugged every curve of your body perfectly. It was satin and slipped so softly over your skin bringing out the color of your hair.

There was a knock on the front door you could hear from down the hall. Perking up you quickly slipped off the bed running down the hall, but before you could open it he was already two steps ahead of you gripping the door handle. “My my don’t you look, fine.” Elvis cooed looking your body up and down. You rolled your eyes and pushed him aside. “Never in your wildest dreams.” you poked back with your sugar bell country twang, sticking your tongue out at him. Opening the door your lips curled into the widest smile. The type that made the apples of your cheeks so round and your eyes light up.

The man stood in the door frame dressed in his Sunday best holding a slightly wilted bouquet of white flowers, your favorite color. “Hey, there~,” He said as you stepped aside for him to walk in. You beamed up at him as he walked in and you shut the door behind him. “These are for you,” he said, holding out the flower. You took them humming “They are beautiful Beau thank you.” standing on your tiptoes you reached up to place a soft kiss against his lips which he returned. Elvis cleared his throat grabbing your attention. “Oh, um Beau this is Elvis. Elvis, this is Beau.” your boyfriend extended his hand towards Elvis giving him a gentle smile, “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard lots of good things about you.” he said eye level with the other.

Elvis had his arms crossed over his chest eyeing Beau up and down. He grimaced at the way your partner talked, faking a smile he looked him dead in the eyes and with a monotone voice replied with, “Charmed.” You glared at Elvis as Beau retracted his hand slightly hurt. Kristina bounded the walkway looking at the three of you sensing the tension. She looked over at Beau and smiled “Hi you must be Beau, I’m Kristina.” she said taking his hand and shaking it a bit longer than you would have liked. “So you’re the big sister, huh?” he asked, cocking his head as his curls brushed against his shoulder.

She giggled obnoxiously as she let go of his hand. It wasn’t Beau’s fault he was so good and put sugar on it whenever he spoke. You locked your arm in his and leaned against his arm. You caught Elvis’ gaze and the look on his face spoke thousands of words. Was he jealous? Kristina turned around starting to walk before looking behind her shoulder at the lot of you, her short hair cascading around her face, “Come on Mama and Pops want to meet you too.”

With that, you followed her to the kitchen where Gladys and Robert were finishing up dinner. As you walked in your father looked at you smiling wide, “Oh baby you look beautiful.” he said walking towards you. Shaking your head you smiled letting go of Beau to embrace him. “Thank you daddy.” as he let go he straightened up, he was much shorter than the other and the size difference made you giggle. “You must be him,” he said sternly. “Y-Yes, sir. My name is Beau Daumer. It’s great to finally meet you.” he was nervous, you could hear it in his voice.

Your father nodded looking at the two of you before his face softened, “Welcome to our home.” he said before retreating to the kitchen. “Elvis, come help your Mama set the table!” Glayds yelled, catching sight of you while carrying dishes to the dining room. She nearly dropped the plates when she saw you passing them off to her son beside her. “Look at you pretty girl!” she squealed, walking over to pinch your cheeks and smooth out your hair.

Blushing, you smiled at her before her attention was pulled. She looked at the boy beside you smirking, “You. Come help me set the table.” she said, taking his hand and pulling him away. You watched as he walked away looking back at you a few times for reassurance. Elvis grunted as his mom took the plates from him and shooed him away. For a while, you talked with your father and sister while Glayds and Beau conversed and set the table. You couldn’t help but feel Elvis’ eyes on you quite a bit, be it a side glance or you catch him staring.

Dinner was going well, everyone was getting along and laughing except for Elvis. He made snide remarks whenever Beau would talk or was mentioned and sat in his chair brooding the whole time.

“Did you know he can play the guitar too? He’s so talented with the way he can make that instrument sing.” You said looking over at Beau who put his hand on your thigh. He laughed, shrugging “Yeah, I suppose I’m pretty good with a guitar.” he retorted looking over at you lovingly. Elvis roughly stood from the table scoffing. Everyone looked at him, his mother had a deadly scowl on his face at how rude his action had been. “Could you be any more original? For fucks sake you walk, talk, and act just like me. It’s goddamn embarrassin’!” he yelled before storming off.

“Elvis you get back here right now and apologize!” Gladys yelled before hearing the back door slam. You blinked unable to comprehend the words that just came out of his mouth. Beau looked around landing on you with a concerned look, “I-I better get goin’.” he said his eyebrows knit together as he scanned your face for a reaction. You chewed the inside of your cheek looking up at him and giving him a slight nod. The pair of you stood from the table and he thanked Robert and Gladys for dinner before you two headed for the front door. You walked him out to his car with your socks still on, holding his arm tightly.

You sighed heavily as he walked around to the driver’s side with you tucked neatly under his arm. “I’m sorry for that,” you said grimly looking up at him. He shook his head dismissively smiling, “Nothin’ you can control, buttercup. I’m not mad or nothin’.” Beau was always so understanding it made your insides swirl. “You call me tomorrow, alright. I’ll be missin’ that pretty lil voice of yours.” he cooed reaching a hand up to cup your face gingerly brushing his thumb against your cheek. You nodded blushing as he leaned down to kiss you sweetly. As he drove away you hummed walking back inside to help clean up dinner.

Long after Gladys had gone home and your family had gone to bed, you had taken a shower and started getting ready for bed yourself. A long black robe hugged your naked body, your long hair pinned up for you to remove your makeup. As you started to rub the mascara from your eyes you jumped shrieking as Elvis stumbled into the room. “Elvis what the hell!” you whisper shouted rushing out of the bathroom black smeared under your eyes. “Shhhh~” he slurred holding his finger up to his lips before busting out into a laughing fit.

You could smell the liquor from where you stood in the doorframe of your bathroom. Quickly you walked to your bedroom door that was swung wide open and poked your head out to look at the hallways. Luckily no one stirred, so you slipped back into the room and shut the door behind you. “Elvis your drunk,” you said as if that wasn’t blatantly obvious. “So…” he replied leaning against your wooden bedframe his arms crossing over his chest as his eyes scanned your body.

Subconsciously you tucked your robe in more crossing your arms as well. You cocked your weight to one leg letting your hip jut out. “What do you want?” you asked, annoyed with his current state. “Come on sugar don’t talk to me like that,” he said standing up straight, wobbling a bit.

“After what you pulled tonight I believe I can speak to you, however, I damn well, please. And don’t call me that.” you huffed turning your nose up away from him. He walked closer to you, that sad puppy dog look on his face irked you as he stepped up. “Oh, you can’t deny what I said was true. He is a compensation for you. Admit it, Y/N you know it.” his voice was low almost as if he was growling. You felt your face get red hot as anger began to swell in your body.

Narrowing your eyes at him you grit your teeth together. Soon enough all the built-up words started spewing from your mouth, years of repressed feelings tumbling with each passing second. “For years I’ve begged you to look at me the way you look at those girls. The way you always wanted Kristina over me. I prayed every night that one day I might have a chance! But you just kept ignoring me and I finally let it go! I finally found someone worthy! A-And you just waltz in here and act like you’ve had these feelings for me for so long. Well guess what Elvis, you can’t always get what you want!” you spat at him shaking from the anger as tears rolled down your cheeks collecting the black makeup still left on your eyes.

Before you had a moment to catch your breath you left his lips on yours. Your eyes went wide in shock, unable to believe it. His lips were as pillowy as they looked and oh so soft. They entice you just slightly sucking in your bottom lip. Though you could taste the whiskey he had been drinking there was a slight hit of something sweet, like syrup. Lighter than that, more like honey.

You had dreamed of this moment for so long. When you were a little girl watching your first adult movie a man and a woman kissed, in that moment you pictured yourself and Elvis. But why now did you feel so guilty? Elvis was right about Beau being a lot like him, but he was also his own person and you had to love that part about him too right? Conflicted with your thoughts you shoved him away turning your head to the side,” No Elvis. T-This isn’t right.” you huffed. A deep chuckle came from the man as he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, “Lil sis, there has never been anythin’ more right.” you cringed at his nickname scrunching up your nose looking at him again. “Don’t call me that,” you said with disgust.

He tsked leaning an arm against the wall beside you resting his head against his hand. “Alright alright. I’m sorry~” he said sweetly, reaching out

to brush some of your hair from your face. You lingered against his touch for a moment feeling your heart race. “Why now? Is it just because of Beau? You’ve always been all about my sister so why the sudden interest in me?” you asked, trying to make sense of the mess in your head.

“Guess you could say Beau just gave me the kick in the ass I needed. Always took a liking to your sis cus’ she was older I guess. But darlin’ you’ve been growin’ and it has been showin’…” he paused to give you a once over, causing you to blush and smile bashfully looking away from his prying eyes. “Been tryin’ to set myself straight cus’ I was so foolish to not take you when I had the chance. I suppose seein’ you all dolled up ‘round that kids arm made the reality of it all set in.”

His confession made you dizzy as you leaned against the wall. Everything was happening so fast, all that you could have hoped for crashing down on you so heavily. “E-Elvis I’m with Beau and I love him.” you breathed out heavily. Elvis laughed beside you drunkenly at your statement. “What’s so funny?!” you demanded glaring at him. “Love? Baby, you don’t know what love is.” you stood from your place against the wall standing as straight as you bubbling with rage as he towered over your small frame.

“And you do?” he grinned, his demeanor changing quickly as he stepped towards you. Reaching out he gripped your face squeezing your cheeks hard enough to feel a slight sting. His face was close to yours holding you still with his hand. Your brain was screaming at you to move, to do something because this was wrong. So very very wrong. Yet your body let him handle you begging for more as you let a whimper slip. A glint crossed Elvis’ eyes as he heard the sound you made.

His tongue poked out of his mouth licking his lips as the right corner curled up into a devilish smile. You felt your eyebrows turn up in a needy way as his warm breath ghosted over your lips. “I can show you what love is,” he said looking at your lips and then into your eyes again. “You want that, little girl?” a warm fuzzy feeling grew in your stomach making goosebumps crawl over your skin. You hadn’t been with anyone like this, sure you and Beau would make out and he would get handsy but you always stopped him before things got too serious.

Then again you never craved his touch the way you crave Elvis’. “Uh huh,” you whispered nodding your head. “I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked brushing his tongue against your bottom lip. “Y-yes…” you shuddered, parting your lips further. He hummed kissing you roughly, his free hand wrapping around the back of your waist pulling you in tight to his body. Your hands reached up holding his face and you kissed him back with the same feverish intent.

He was soft in all the right places and firm when he gripped up. His body curled with yours so perfectly like you had meant to be embraced with him like that. Letting go of your face Elvis slipped his tongue into your mouth pushing it against your own. The taste of alcohol no longer bothered you, his touch was so intoxicating in itself. His hands smoothed down your body, gripping at your butt for a moment, his right hand moving around your left thigh hitching it up onto his waist.

You gasped feeling your leg being pulled, your back arching into his hand. Pulling away you looked up at him still holding his face. “I-I’ve never done anything like this before,” you mumbled nervously. Elvis grinned, “I’ll take care of you my pretty thing. Don’t you worry ‘bout nothin’.” he said before picking both your legs up, holding them tightly against his hips. You giggled wrapping your arms around his shoulders grabbing at his button-down shirt. Kissing the exposed skin on your chest in the opening of your robe he walked to your best slowly laying you down on the mattress.

Instinctively you arched your back bringing your legs up squeezing them together. Your hands lay by the sides of your head as strands of loose hair fell around your face. His hands rested on your knees as he looked down at you in awe. “God you are beautiful.” he exhaled, running his hands down your thighs pulling you to the edge of the bed roughly as he met your hips. “Took you long enough.” you teased picking your legs up to press your feet against his chest running them down his body. He inhaled sharply taking you by the ankles softly placing a few soft long kisses against your red-painted toes and feet.

You were utterly enamored by this man; he was right, about everything. Slowly he placed wet kisses down your calves, creeping up until he was at your knees. Spreading your legs open you felt the blood rush to your face. You felt as if you were on fire, the cool of your room brushing against your warm naked cunt. Elvis bit his bottom lip staring at you, “H-holy shit…” You picked your head up from the mattress to look at him slightly.

“You…you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” the sleaze of his words made your stomach flip as you looked up at him. Slowly sinking to his knees on the floor he pulled your body closer to the edge holding each of your legs over his shoulders. Gingerly you watched his hand rub down your thighs, wet sloppy kisses being placed on either of the insides until he reached the soft sink beside your cunt. Elvis’ right hand cupped your aching heat as he nibbled at the skin inside your thighs.

Those soft seductive eyes found your own from his place between your legs, “Can I mama?” he asked in a way that made it seem like he needed it. You nodded quickly, finding yourself wanting it all the same. With a toothy grin, he moved his hand to the side holding your folds open. As his face disappeared your heavy head fell back against the mattress once more, your hands coming up to cup your still clothed breasts. The pad of his tongue traced the length of you collecting your arousal as he went. The warmth of him against your needy cunt sent a shiver down your spine.

Elvis’ flicked the tip over the little bundle of nerves causing your body to jolt a bit. You let out a breathless laugh at the convulsion and the man liked the way you reacted because it did it again causing your body to do the same thing over. He was gentle at first letting your get used to the feeling before his lips locked around your clit sucking you in and circling his tongue. Your moans were sweet and soft in the beginning until his middle finger teased your entrance. You dared to look down at the sight before you while he pushed into you. “Ah~ Fuck Elvis.” you moaned out the profanity feeling his knuckle hit your base, his hard blue eyes boring holes into you.

You saw the corners of his mouth turn up against you as he continued to work his tongue, his finger curling inside against your gummy walls. Arching your back he pumped his finger slowly curling it with each thrust. Picking up the pace your fingers found your hardened nipples and began to rub them. The pleasure from everything was building fast, you could hear the world around you slowly start to fuzz out as he added a second finger to you. Picking his head up, Elvis panted, while his free hand moved to continue stimulating your clit.

“You like that don’t you mama? Like the way I touch you so well,” he said, but you couldn’t respond as the squelching sounds filled the room. “Talk to me, baby. Tell me how you feel,” he commanded, kissing your knee. “Mmm~ F-feel so good.” you moaned the pressure building like a pit in your stomach. Earning a pleased sigh he rubbed your clit faster, fingering you harder until your head began to spin. Within seconds your toes curled and your body tensed, picking you back up off the bed you moaned out loudly as your release washed over you making your legs shake. He continued the same pace until your body subsided and he slowed to a halt carefully removing his fingers to suck the slick off.

He was so crude, yet it looked so good. Standing up off the floor he crawled between your legs his clothed torso pressing against your swollen mound. You dared to open your eyes to see his face hovering over your own, his chin glistening with you. Pressing his lips against your own, the tangy taste of yourself on his mouth made you roll your hips up against him. This earned a low chuckle as he pulled away, “Such a needy lil thing aren’t you.” your body craved the release again.

Gracefully he untied your robe sliding either side open with body hands exposing your body fully to him. Elvis kissed your lips again slowly trailing down the side of your face and neck until he reached your breasts. Cupping one in each hand he looked up at you while he gave the left nipple a kiss and a flick of his tongue. Returning the favor to the right one he groped at them for a moment grinding his hips against you. Just feeling his hardened length through the fabric of his pants made you mewl.

“Elvis…” you breathed looking at him. “Yes mama?” he returned looking up at you from his place on your nipple. “I-…. I need you,” you said hesitantly. “Need me? How so. Tell me baby how do you need me.” he pushed wanting to hear those dirty words on your sweet tongue. “Fuck me, I need you to fuck me Elvis.” you could hardly hold eye contact while the words slipped out of your mouth. Easing himself up he smiled at you sweetly, “See, that wasn’t so bad now was it?” he asked working at his shirt buttons. You watched as he undressed himself, his erection popping from his boxers to slap up against his belly.

He was big, much larger than you expected him to be. Catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you watched as he stroked the length of himself a few times moving up close to you again rubbing his tip between your folds. He chuckled as his tip rested against your hole, “Even your cunt is needy. Suckin’ me right in.” he pushed into you the pain splitting across your eyes as he pushed in further. His hips were flush with yours as he was seated deep inside you throbbing as you clenched around him. “Oooh so tight.” he groaned as his eyebrows creased together. Leaning over your body one forearm rested on either side of your head, his chest pressing tightly against your own.

Looking up at him he started thrusting his hips slowly, your body still adjusting as you let out a hiss from the pain. It didn’t last as the pain melted to pleasure again, his thrusts getting faster and heavier. “Such a good girl for me, takin’ me so… fucking… good.” his head fell to the crook of your neck, his mouth latching on to the soft skin. Sucking at it you felt him pull his cock out to the tip, the empty feeling making you shutter before he slammed back into you hitting a spot that made you scream. Quickly a hand slapped over your mouth, his face reappearing as he did the same motion over again gaining a muffled scream. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes streaming down your face, but it wasn’t from the pain.

Each thrust earned another muffled moan as he continued rolling his hips in such a saw, slapping his skin down against you with each repeat of the motion. “Shhh baby you have to be quiet, your papa will hear you.” but his words did little to nothing as you wrapped your legs around his bare body. Elvis grunted as he fucked into you, that horrid squelching sound reappearing. You stuck your tongue out to lick at his hand through your moans as he hilted you. Removing his hand he pushed two fingers into your mouth which you gladly sucked on. You could feel him twitch inside of you from the action making him groan. “Look at you, such a dirty lil slut for me. Squeezing me so good…”

Your body begged him to move again as he removed his finger from your mouth. Your hands gripped at his back pulling him in closer. Beads of sweat pooled against his forehead as strands of his thick dark hair dangled in your face. Pressing his head against yours you held his gaze as his arms moved behind your head holding you close. “Going to make you mine mama, all mine,” he whispered before thrusting into you again. Over and over his hips snapped against your own, buried so deep inside as the tip of his cock rubbed at a sensitive spot. Your head fell lip against his hands that held it there, your polished fingernails digging into the flesh of his back. It didn’t take much longer to get you back to the place he had you on his fingers. Your walls clenched around him tightly as a ringing in your ear droned out the sound again.

“Who’s are you? Y/N, I want to hear you say who you belong to,” he said through ragged breathing pumping into you with all the same vigor. You arched your back reaching your climax gripping him tighter, “Yours! Ah fuck~ yours Elvis I’m yours!” you yelled spasming as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. “Good girl. Mine… ahh~ mine. You’re mine… mine…” his voice faded to only moans and groans his thrust becoming unrhythmic until he pushed into you so far you swear you felt a pop. Seconds later a warm gushy feeling filled you up. Elvis stayed seated inside you for a moment his eyes closed with ragged breathing.

Pulling out, you grunted as the warm pool leaked from you. The weight of his body left yours as the mattress creaked from the movement. Laying down beside you, his arm draped across your torso pulling you in close to him. His lips pressed against your temple as both your breathing subsided to normal again. Being there in his arms felt so right, but deep down you knew the trouble you had gotten yourself into would be much more.

#austin butler smut #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler elvis #elvis smut #elvis fic #elvis x reader #elvis movie #elvis 2022

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crash-and-cure · 10 months

Text

Every Minute, Every Hour (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: You were out. You were out goddamnit. How was he here?

A/N: Soooo.... It’s been awhile. Writer’s block is an absolute son of a bitch. So this is based on an idea I had and requested to @venus-haze a couple months ago and which I almost completely forgot about until I got this request and I decided two birds and all that. I also acknowledge that there was another similar request made a while back, to the person who requested it don’t worry, I do have plans for it.

Warnings: Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, jealous, and delusional behavior. Dubious Consent in regards to coersion being involved. Loss of virginity. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), oral sex (f.recieving), female mastubation, slight dumbification, and implied anal play. Brief depictions of choking. Touch-starvation. Mentions of Pregnancy. Referenced cheating on Elvis' part. Self-loathing. Stockholm Syndrome(?) Probably more that I am blanking on. Period-typical homophobia and closeted characters depicted. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

Word Count: 19.8K

Masterlist

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You look like an angel (look like an angel)

Walk like an angel (walk like an angel)

Talk like an angel

But I got wise

You’re the devi-

It takes you longer than you would have liked to reach the radio and turn it off. And it’s only as you reach it do you realize how odd it looks from the outside when you see a customer looking at you funny.

“Not much of a fan,” you say with an admittedly pathetic smile on your face.

“I can see that,” he replies with an awkward smile, before going back to browsing the books.

You bashfully turn the radio back on and quickly try to turn the knob to anything even remotely comprehensible, but it’s just your luck that this is the only station you get decent reception on in the store. With no other choice but to simply grin and bear it you put the volume on low and return to reading your book.

You do keep an eye on your final customer of the evening, and hope he hurries up so you can finally close up for the day. Susan had been complaining about a migraine since lunch and Gina was caring for her upstairs and so it was on you to close up the shop on your own today.

You feel embarrassed to have been seen that way but that all falls away when you hear the shop bell ring, only to be immediately followed by tiny rapid footsteps and an excited little “mama!” and you grab onto the counter before your little two and a half foot terror can knock out from behind you. Which ends up being the right call as you feel her head butt your knees and locking her arms around them nearly knocking you down.

“Mama! Mama!” she squealed, practically vibrating, she was so excited to see you.

“Rosie! Rosie!” you say, equally as happy to see her though you do a far better job at reining it in. She takes your hands in hers as you crouch down to look at her, and take stock. Her hair is askew with the ribbons you had tied in place this morning holding on for dear life in her beautiful curls, her face is smudgy with what you’re hoping is chocolate, and one of her socks is just gone, but both shoes are in place so you can only imagine how your little hellion managed that. Overall this is the best condition Rosie has returned to you in, after a long day with Jenny.

“Mama, Aunty Jenny took me to the Candy store!” she says, showing off the candy bracelets on her tiny wrists.

“Really,” you say, shooting a look at your friend for giving her so much sugar before bed. The woman in question has the courtesy to at least look a little guilty about it, before giving a small laugh.

“Mm-hmm. And we saw Danny at the playground and we-we saw Uncle Lee’s friends, and then we listened to a lotta music, and we saw a movie about a wizard and there was no one else in the whole room, and then-then…” she rapidly rambles on but you pepper her face in kisses before she can pass out from the lack of oxygen. She giggles uncontrollably and tries to squirm out of your grip, but you gotta get in one good raspberry on her cheek before you let her go.

“Alright, why don’t you go upstairs and help Aunty Gina finish up dinner,” you tell her with a smile on your face. Her “help” in the kitchen is typically watching and holding spoons and spatulas on a step stool, but she’s at an age where she believes the whole dish would fall apart without her important contribution to it, so she goes rushing to the stairs.

But she quickly comes running back while taking the uneaten bracelet off of her wrist. “Danny said to give this to you for your birthday,” she declares. Ever since meeting Jenny’s nephew she’s seemed to hang on to every word of his, and though you’ve never met the boy he seems to be a good kid, always polite and saying hello through your daughter, but has, as you've heard, an extreme affinity towards spinning a few too many fantastical stories. But your daughter is far too young to see him as anything but a friend so you doubt you have anything to worry about as of right now.

She’s always so eager to tell you about everything, and you’re just as eager to listen. Your folks never wanted to hear anything from you, and you pray that your attentiveness will pay off one day when she is never afraid to come to you with your troubles. Maybe if you had that with your mother you wouldn’t be where you were.

“Well tell him I said thank you,” you say, as you pull it on your wrist, placing a small kiss on her forehead before she books it back to the stairs behind the counter. As you stand back up, to your surprise you find the customer now at the counter with a good stack of books.

“Sorry to bother Miss…ummm…” the customer says nervously.

“Love,” you clarify for him. “Y/N Love.”

He gives a shy smile at that, “Well Miss Love, I’m ‘bout ready to check out so…” he says gesturing to his tower of books.

“Of course,” you answer and you begin to ring him up. He’s got quite a few so at least he makes the extra time staying down here somewhat worth it.

“Whatcha readin’ there,” he asks you, pointing to the open book you’ve left to your side. You show him your copy of We have always lived in the castle. “I-is it any good?”

“I would say so,” you answer. Though that ending did hit a little too close to home, you think to yourself.

“So umm, d-do you like to read?” he asks hesitantly as he quietly adds a copy of the book to his pile.

“I’d be in the wrong business if I didn’t,” you joke, and he laughs a little too hard. “How ‘bout you?” you ask, wanting to not have an awkward silence, as you’re not even halfway through the stack.

“Yeah, I-I love reading though I don’t got a lotta time for it these days,” he says with a guilty smile on his face.

“Why’s that?” you ask, since it seems to be the only way this conversation could go.

“I-I just started my residency at Charity Hospital,” he says bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Sam by the way,” apparently realizing that he hadn’t made the proper introductions.

“Y/N,” you say, giving him a small nod and a smile. “And congratulations on your residency,” you're almost done with the final few books, but you may or may not be taking your time to finish them up, wanting to prolong the conversation you’re having for a bit.

“Thank you, and I- well, umm… I couldn’t help but overhear your daughter, but umm… Happy Birthday,” he says ducking his head, a bit embarrassed at his own admission.

“Oh, thank you,” you say, your face heating up slightly that he had heard.

“Your Husband’s a lucky man,” he says, though he does steal a quick glance at you, no doubt trying to gauge your reaction.

So this is what it’s about, you think to yourself. “I’m actually not…” you trail off, and hope that he gets the message.

“Oh, I’m glad to hear that,” he stated before his eyes widened as he realized what he just said. “I-I mean not glad like I’m happy that you-you’re not married, bu-but glad li-like I’m relieved that I hav-haven’t been trying to build up the courage to talk to a cute girl for the past few weeks only to find out she’s married already.” he blathers on and you can’t help but laugh.

Your heart does flutter a bit at his confession. Everything about this feels like it should be perfect. Unfortunately for the both of you, you finally get a good look at his icy blue eyes that are a little too familiar for comfort, and it feels like your throat closes up.

You can feel your stomach churning (and not just from the baby that fills it) and cold regret for not buying an extra pair of socks as you sit at the Greyhound terminal in Nashville, your feet starting practically turning into ice blocks. That cold November morning you had made a show of telling everybody you were gonna make a quick trip down to the shops for some eggs, now you’re almost a full state away praying that the bus gets here soon, jumping every time a set of headlights passes by and you're just barely keeping dry underneath the metal canopy.

But for as cold as you are physically, your chest starts to heat up at the prospect that you’re so close to freedom from an even colder gaze. When the bus does get there you hardly sleep a wink afraid to let your guard down even now. You know how well he could sabotage your plans if he was so inclined, from small things like spoiling the surprise party you had planned for him to the major of ruining your chances to get into another school.

You know he’s half a world away yet that still does little knowing what the most loyal of his are willing to do for him. It’s not until you finally make it to the train station in Atlanta that’ll take you down to New Orleans that you finally give in to your heavy eyelids, willing to trust strangers with your safety, aware they can’t hurt you any worse than those you know have done.

You shake your head as you’re brought back to the present, and you hear him say something, “I’m sorry what?” you covertly wiggle your toes as you try to ground yourself and get sensation back in them as though you were just getting them out of the cold.

“I was just sayin’ there’s this club down on Bourbon that I been meanin’ to check out since movin’ down here, and I was hopin’ a local such as yourself could show me ‘round these parts,” he says, a nervous but hopeful smile on his lips.

For a moment you can almost imagine saying yes to him, how he would take you out on the town, how he would kiss you, how he would throw your daughter up in the air. How maybe you could be happy with him.

But like a looming black cloud, in spite of the lowered volume, you hear what the new station is now playing, clear as a bell.

Oh please come to my arms and say you'll love me forever

For with the dawn, you'll be gone

It’s almost as though He’s following you, serving as a constant reminder of what you did, and that you’re never allowed to imagine being with another man. You wordlessly turn off the radio before you’re forced to listen anymore. “Uhh, I-I’m sorry, I-I really don’t go out much,” you say, trying to shut this down as gently as you could.

“Oh-uhh, that’s fine I umm,” he says, pivoting hard. “I’m more of a movie guy myself, I hear he’s got a new one out, and we can go and watch anything but that,” he gives a small laugh pointing to the radio, but quickly drops it upon seeing your grim expression.

Without knowing it Sam just shut the coffin on any potential happenings between the two of you. “I’m sorry, it’s late and I gotta close up for the night,” you say softly, and he’s smart enough to take the hint.

“O-of course,” he says looking down at the books he has in his hands. “But can you promise you’ll think about it?” he asks as he reaches the door to look back at you.

Even before you open your mouth, you already know that your next words are going to make you lose a customer forever. “There’s nothing to think about,” you say, trying to feign apathy. Harsh as your words may be, you know this is far kinder to him in the long run as opposed to getting more involved with you.

You watch him leave the store with a sagging shoulders and a long face, before you feel a hand meet violently with the back of your head, and you swivel around to see Jenny with an exasperated look on her face. “So a handsome, single, doctor who loves to read, and doesn’t mind that you already got a kid, asks you out and you say…” she trails off, seeming to only get more offended with every dreamy quality he had.

“Don’tchu get like that Jenny,” you defend yourself, as you stomp to the door in order to flip the sign to closed and lock up for the night. “I’ve got a daughter to worry about and I don’t have time for a boyfriend right now.”

“Well newsflash Y/N,” she argues, “Rosie needs a daddy.”

You feel your hackles rising at that statement. “No she doesn’t,” you state firmly, not wanting to raise your voice, because you know better than anyone how easy it is to be overheard.

She deflates a little at your obvious fury at this line of questioning, before letting out a long tired sigh. “It’s just that… when we were at the park today… she asked me why she didn’t have one. And she… she just kept pressing,” she says obviously ashamed that she hurt you, but wanting to get across her reasoning. “What am I supposed to say to that? Especially when you won’t tell nobody what happened. I only got her to drop it when I took her to the candy shop.”

You feel guilty for snapping at your friend. Jenny Hodge had been an absolute godsend since you met her almost a year ago, when she and her new husband, Lee, had moved down from Alabama. Her arrival had coincided when Rosie started becoming aggressively mobile and insisted that running was the only way to get around anymore. And because she felt she needed practice with being a Mama before she had one of her own, she insisted on being your one and only babysitter, in exchange for free books every so often.

The story around the block is that you are were the young widow who “tragically” lost her husband in an accident before he ever had the chance to meet your beautiful daughter, and with no one in the world left to turn to, you ended up on your “spinster” aunt and her “good friend” Susan’s doorstep. And Jenny, since hearing your story, has by far been your most fervent supporter outside of this house, with her support primarily coming in two flavors: 1) helping you with your daughter so she isn’t so cooped up in the store while you work and 2) trying to set you up with any moderately successful man.

“Y/N,” she says softly. “I get that it’s hard to get back out there, but you need to think about the bigger picture, because it’s only a matter of time before she starts asking you.”

You know she’s right, and that’s the worst part about it. Your little Rosie Love is a stubborn one, not to mention smart, always has been. Didn’t want to walk because she wanted to run. Hated her diaper so much she learned how to unpin it when she was barely a year old. Wanted to try to feed herself when she first took to solid food, and would snatch the spoon out of your hand when she could. She’s broken out of every play pen she’s ever been in. Hell, she was almost two weeks overdue, and the doctors were forced to induce you, she didn’t want to come out until she was good and ready.

She, like someone else you knew, is capable of throwing a wrench into any plan you make. For as endearing as it can be, it is all the more frustrating knowing exactly where she gets it from.

With a long defeated sigh, you concede to her point and thank her for both her input and for being a good friend this past year. And maybe someday you’ll be ready to find another husband.

She has a wide cheshire-cat like grin as you say that, “And I’mma ‘bout to be a better one,” she practically sings. “Lee’s friend is in town, and I think you two would hit it off.”

“And I think we wouldn’t,” you state, putting books back where they belong.

“C’mon Y/N, I thought we were past this,” she whines.

“I did say someday, not today,” you emphasize.

“Y/N, your birthday’s comin’ up soon, and it ain’t like you’re gettin’ any younger. Besides Lee and I are already trying for a baby, so I ain’t gonna be so available much longer neither,” she says in a soft voice holding your hands in hers. “And you need to find someone you can rely on too, it’s not like you wanna end up like your Aunt Gina”

You say nothing not wanting to say anything incriminating about the relationship between your Aunts, as for all that you trust Jenny, you don’t trust her enough with somebody else’s secrets.

“Just promise me you'll think about it at least,” she pleads, hands clasped over your own.

What is it about people that, not trusting you when you answer the first time, and thinking given enough time you’ll come around?

Yet you're no better as you let out a long tired sigh, before ultimately agreeing, if only to get her off your back. Or so you tell yourself.

She tells you a bit about the man she has in mind for you, or more accurately she keeps insisting how perfect the two of you would be together. In her mind it’ll be love at first sight, how he’ll love and accept Rosie as his own immediately, how she guarantees that you’ll be married within a year and be trying to give Rosie a little brother or sister. You have to bodily shove her out the door by that point lest she get into any more specifics in her attempt to sway you.

Jenny’s a little older than you, but she is very much a romantic at heart, you suppose, though that’s the benefit of things going right in your life.

But your story went wrong.

“Why you in such a hurry to get out girl?” your accomplice would ask as he handed you the money (He had made it a point of order that you were never to handle any) the day before your escape.

“There’s someone else,” you say simply, because it’s true and if they were to ever betray your trust this would be worse on them than on you.

You got away with quite a bit back in the day like getting out of trouble for making out in a dark empty classroom by claiming to have been caught by surprise by your monthlies and now you couldn’t bear the thought of being seen like this. Or when you got hired by the library for the summer after you approached the front desk and claimed to be the new hire ready for her first day of training and nobody really bothered to check in with anybody else. Even that one time when you confidently strolled backstage at a music hall He had wanted to perform all to sneak them in through the back door and convinced just enough people that his band was meant to perform that night.

Your ability to make up stories on the fly and map things out in your head had led you to believe that you would make for a pretty good mystery writer. You had even tried to go to school to be one, though you told everyone it was to be a teacher, a far more respectable and womanly job.

Well not everyone.

He certainly knew.

Knew about your talent for planning and story-telling, and was practically always in awe to see it in action. But this recognition came at the expense that he was aware of your tricks and he always knew how to throw you off just enough to make any plans you made go belly up. Whether it was something relatively small like figuring out you were planning a surprise party to the major… like when you tried to end things the first time around.

He called you almost every night when he was on tour, and you had done your best to relay all that was going on back in Memphis. And in spite of his insistence that he wants to hear about it, you suspect that he wasn’t being truthful. He especially seemed disgruntled when you made any mention of doing anything with anyone else. Your friends, his friends, even your own family weren’t safe from his ire.

When He was here you would do everything together, yet now that you tell him about all that you’d been doing, there is a slight but noticeable edge when he speaks to you over the phone. Everytime you mention how you went to the movie theater or you went to the record store or the bookshop, it was almost always met with a solemn “we used to do that together.”

You would have gone with him, had your parents let you, and He knows that so you don’t understand why he’s so sore about the fact that you’re not simply sitting on your hands back home waiting for him to return.

So in an effort to spare his feelings you asked him about the things he was doing, you even go out of your way to say how happy you were when he was telling you about all of the fun things he had done on the road. You’re happy to hear it all and you thought

You miss him just as fiercely but you don’t want it to stop you from living.

But when you got your acceptance letter, you saw the writing on the wall. You both were going in different directions: you were going to be studying, were barely going to be home and his star just kept growing and growing each day taking him further out and making him harder to reach. You know you wanted this and you begin to suspect you may want it more than you want to stay with him, if staying with him meant being alone all the same.

This was only confirmed in the weeks leading up to Prom when you couldn’t get a straight answer out of him of whether or not He would be able to make it. It was on you to practically plan everything down to what he would wear, while his whole contribution was to show up- maybe?

Whether He did show up or not that night, you thought the result would be the same with you officially breaking things off between you two. But you still held out hope that at least if he did come you would have one last good memory.

And to your relief He does make it, but he’s a little off the whole night. Not in the sense that his mind is elsewhere, more like he’s trying to commit everything about the night into memory, and looking at you with sad eyes when he thinks you’re not looking.

It all comes to a head when you’re parked outside of your house, and you’re sitting in a loaded silence with him at the wheel. He’s gripping onto that thing for dear life and you’re wondering if maybe you should save it, but you think you know yourself well enough to know that if you don’t say it now, you won't say it ever.

So as he’s opening his mouth to say something, you cut him off with his name.

“...I-I got accepted to Southwestern,” you blurted out to him and He looked so confused at your admission, but you push through. “I start in the fall, so I’m not gonna be home much anymore, and with y-you being on the road so much, I think it best that we-”

“Marry me,” he blurts out, panic etched across his face.

Your jaw is left practically on the floor as that was the last thing you ever expected out of his mouth.

You would later find out that he went to Prom with the same intention as you did but it was in that moment that he realized you weren’t going to wait for him to come back did he want to lock you down. But you didn’t see that in the moment.

What you saw at the time was the declaration that he was just as committed as you were, and so overwhelmed by the love you still felt for him at the time, you had no choice but to give an emphatic yes to him.

“We’re gonna figure this out baby,” He promises with a kiss.

That was the first time you tried to leave him.

“-Danny’s a real good singer Aunty. He told me he lives in Neverland and one day he would take me and-and he told me this is the only place in the whole word that they sell peanut butter cups,” you would hear as you made your way up the stairs connecting to the apartment above the store. You look into the small kitchen where you see your little girl sitting on the counter talking her aunt’s ear off idly dangling her little feet while holding a spatula you're not entirely sure is necessary. Gina looks over to you and gives you a playfully exasperated look, and you simply shrug your shoulders before moving into the small kitchen to pepper your little one's face in kisses.

“Alright sticky missy,” you announce, blowing a raspberry on her cheek and swiping the utensil out of her hand as she trills in delight. “You go wash up for dinner now, ya’ hear, and go wake up Aunty, I think she’ll feel alot better seeing you.”

“Ok Mama,” she says. She is utterly fearless as she slides herself to get off of the counter, and lands on her feet below. You can’t help the swell of pride that bubbles up in your chest seeing it, how brave your little girl is. You hope that you can take it as a sign that you’re doing ok at this motherhood thing.

Gina likes to say that you were just as bold at that age with the confidence of someone so sure they can take on the world, and in quieter moments she’ll lament how you lost that in you. You would be offended if you didn’t already know when exactly you lost it.

She had always been your favorite Aunt until you were about twelve and and your father would coldly tell you she died and was in hell now. Rather than a funeral, the family got together to destroy her things and swear to never speak of her again.

That didn’t stop her from visiting you one last time and telling you she was moving down to New Orleans with her friend Susan. She would take you to your favorite bookstore one last time in Memphis and promised that if you ever needed a place to stay, to not even hesitate to come, because she knew better than anyone what your family would do to girls who stepped out of line.

For years the only evidence that she was even alive was the annual birthday and Christmas gift you would get from her all under the guise of Nancy Drew books stamped with the name of a bookstore all the way in New Orleans. You cherished them and it’s one of the few things you took after your parents kicked you out.

You only wished you had taken the offer when your father had kicked you out and you were forced to rely on someone else.

“So I hear you broke another heart,” Gina idly says as she starts scooping some rice onto a plate.

You let out a long sigh, “When did Jenny find the time to tell you?” You’re more amazed than annoyed considering she didn’t leave your sight once down stairs.

“Jenny?” she says, raising a brow. “No Sue told me earlier how Lou from King’s Cafe ‘s been askin’ after you.”

Lou who always had extra beignets to give away when you took Rosie for a walk in the mornings. He recently asked if you had ever been on the Algiers ferry, and how beautiful it looked at night.

…You’ve been taking a different route to the playground since then.

“Is my love life just everybody’s business,” you ask frustrated that you weren’t even given a five minute break from this.

“In this house: yes,” she states, a grin on her face.

“Gina if this is about me movin’ out, you can talk to me, I’m a big girl,” you insist, trying to deflect and not have to think about it anymore.

“Sweetheart,” she says solemnly, placing a hand on your cheek. I may not be your mama, but I do think that you need to think about what’s best for Rosie,” she insists as she puts place mats down on the table.

Gina’s a little closer to the situation than Jenny, as she had asked no questions as to why you all of a sudden needed a place to stay far from your parents with nary a husband or boyfriend in sight to take responsibility for the baby growing within you. She had also been the one to help spread the tragic young widow narrative, and for as much of a gossip she can be, you know she’s a steel trap for secrets that matter.

“What does me getting, or not getting, a boyfriend have to do with Rosie?”

“A boyfriend? Nothing,” she dismisses. “A husband on the other hand…”she says with a smile.

“Don’tchu come talkin’ to me ‘bout gettin’ a husband,” you say, handing her another plate of food.

She laughs at that, “It’s not just about you gettin’ a husband, it’s about Rosie gettin’ a father,” she insists amused at your mulishness.

“Not you too,” you mourn what you thought was going to be a quiet evening.

“I’m just sayin’ that every child deserves two parents,” putting the lid back on the pot.

“She’s got three mama’s,” you counter.

“No,” she says waving the wooden spoon in front of your face. “She’s got one mama and two grandmas that spoil her rotten behind your back.” You open your mouth to protest, until she quickly follows up with, “Oh speak of the devil herself,” as you see your little troublemaker dragging Susan by the hand to the table, whom you had to bully into taking a rest to somewhat alleviate the migraine she had been having for most of the day.

Your daughter can talk for hours if left unchecked and you're eager to hear all of it as she bounces from subject to subject at the dinner table. You had always felt somewhat guilty intruding on their space, but Gina insists nothing of the sort and Susan jokes that the two of them are getting the full kid/grandkid experience through you and Rosie, since the traditional way ain’t for them.

Between bites she regaled the three of you with all that she did today which included seeing a dog, the playground being shiny, spinning around so fast on the merry-go-round she almost went into space, made friends with some of the ducks, saw another dog, Danny gave her his popcorn, got a lot of candy from the candy shop, and gave some jelly beans to the last dog she saw today, but only the green ones she doesn’t like, and then feeling bad about it and giving it some of the red ones to even it out.

She doesn’t mention anything to you about asking Jenny about why she doesn't have a daddy, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the first break you’ve had all day. Some may say you indulge her too much, but all three grown women at this table know exactly how it feels to have their thoughts and feelings ignored, and you all had come to the mutual understanding that Rosie would never have to feel this way in this house.

“Mama, I forgot to tell you,” Rosie states after she shoveled the last of her food into her mouth. “Barbie got a new job today!” she delights as she thrusts the doll in your face.

“Really?” you say trying to match even a quarter of her excitement. “Is she mmm… a firefighter?”

“No!” she squeals, delighted in the game you play with her.

Making a big show of putting a finger to your temple and closing one eye, apparently deep in thought, you ask, “Is she a… detective?”

“No that was yesterday!” she’s practically buzzing to tell you, but holds it in to keep this game going.

“Oh!” you say, pretending to have a lightbulb moment. “She’s a wizard!” You know your daughter well enough, so you’re reasonably confident in your guess knowing that Jenny took her to see that Disney movie today.

“No,” she laughs, “She’s an actress, but she also sings in all her movies.”

“O-oh,” you say, genuinely caught off guard by that. “Why’s that?” It’s certainly not an unusual thing for a little girl to declare, but for your daughter it most definitely was. When she declared what Barbie was going to be it was always influenced by something she saw that day. Sometimes she was a baker, sometimes a ballerina, even one memorable time a bus driver, but this is a first. Even when she has seen movies with actors in it she didn’t quite understand the concept that those aren’t their real jobs on screen, and she would pick that, which is why you guessed wizard.

“Because Danny does that,” she declares, as she starts to make Barbie dance on the dinner table.

And then it made sense, your daughter’s friend, Danny, who according to Jenny, has a penchant for making up stories. To your daughter the boy’s been a cowboy, a soldier, he’s as strong as superman, can play any instrument, and now apparently is a famous actor.

You give an amused huff, “I see Danny’s at it again,” you state, as you take her plate. It’s a literal miracle that Jenny’s impromptu trip to the candy store didn’t spoil her appetite, and but you don’t know how much of an appetite she’ll have for dessert so you decide to just split a slice of King cake with her.

“At what mama?” she asks as Gina wipes some of her food off her face.

“He’s telling stories again,” you say as you bring Gina and Susan their dessert plates.

“No he’s not,” she states, furrowing her brow, and you can’t help but quirk a smile at how stressed she looks as you sit down. “I saw it myself.”

“I’m sure you did, but Honey, it's just… sometimes boys have a habit of telling… tall tales,” you suppose that’s the nice way of putting it. It’s a fine line you walk with her, wanting to have her believe in herself most of all, but also wanting her to not believe everything she’s told, especially by boys. You’re the textbook example of what happens to supposedly smart girls who get in too deep with charming boys.

“But it’s true mama,” she insists, raising her voice a bit.

“Sweetheart, I think he means, he wants to be that when he grows up,” you try to gently justify, as you subtly try to nudge the fork closer to her.

“No mama, I saw it,” she asserts, getting progressively more upset defending her friend. “He is a famous actor and he was singing and dancing at the theater.”

“And I’m sure he’s gonna be a big star one day when he’s all grown up,” you try to assuage how worked up she’s getting. “But I don’t think he’s one right now.”

“No mama!” she yells at the top of her lungs, angry tears streaming down her face. “You’re a liar!” You feel your stomach drop to the floor and she herself looks shocked at what she just said. She proceeds to cry even harder before turning tail and running straight into the room you share with her and slamming the door as hard as she could.

When you were far enough away, and somewhat comfortable in your new environment in Your Aunties home, the first thing you did was read nearly every book about motherhood you could find. You were determined to do this right as you had made the unilateral decision for your baby to only have one parent. So you decided as a means of making up for it you would be all the parent she would need.

Doubt creeps into the back of your throat that you made the wrong decision and that you in fact were not enough on your own and that she never would have done that if He were around.

“You want me to go talk to her?” Gina would ask after hearing your door slam shut.

As bad as you want to say yes from the exhausting day you’ve had so far, you’re not about to foist your duties as a mother off onto her right now. She understands but you don’t miss the pointed look she gives to Sue, as she walks away to clean up dinner, and you bury your hand in your face hoping if you wish hard enough this day will finally come to a close.

“I remember the first time I yelled at my mama,” Sue off-handedly says after a few minutes. “Always too scared that that wretched woman would beat me black and blue if I was ever less than perfect,” she takes a sip of her tea. “And she did just that when I got fed up with all her teasing about me getting a boyfriend.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“What I’m gettin’ at is… I was never comfortable enough with my own mother to be angry with her.”

“Am I bad at this?”

“You’re still new at this Hon,” she reassures you. “There's a big difference.”

Despite the fact that Gina was the one related to you by blood, Sue’s the only one in the world who even has an inkling as to what exactly you left behind. And that is only because she was a front row spectator to it.

You had managed to get permission to leave the hotel room for a few hours while He was on set that day. He had brought you down from Memphis, not wanting you so far out of reach and yet you were still pretty much kept confined. You had long since exhausted the books you had brought for the trip, and you were practically itching to get out.

Books were your only escape from this place. Where you could vicariously solve a mystery or meet royalty or stop a war or any other number of exciting things in your head. But inevitably you close the book and the story ends and your back in this fucking hotel room.

You realize by getting more books you're just masking a symptom rather than actually treating the illness. You couldn’t take it anymore and had begged Him to at least let you go to a bookstore to keep you occupied, because by that point you were willing to pay the price for it.

Sue had been the only one in the store the day but you hadn’t really taken notice of her, your eyes had been darting around everywhere trying to find Gina. Sonny was in there as well, as you were only able to bargain your way to being in here and picking out the books, but not enough to be able to enter the store alone. Sonny had been the one to pull the short straw and had been put on Y/N duty today. Usually that consisted of sitting in the hotel and making sure you didn’t go anywhere while also completely ignoring you.

Everybody knows the story of the last guy that paid a little too much attention to you. You still couldn’t look at raw ground beef without crying.

Outside of the occasional gathering you don’t really interact with anybody out of the immediate vicinity of home. It’s funny how He can put you in a room filled to the brim with his people yet make you feel so alone at the same time. It would be amazing if it didn’t make you feel so awful at the same time.

It’s a terrible thing He does, but it’s made all the worse that so many people can see what he’s doing keeping you prisoner and isolated and yet no one will ever dare breach it

If anything they actually help him as they all report to him practically what you did that day, do their best to talk you out of leaving the room, and even when you do insist on going off on your own, the men are quick to remind you that He won’t like it one bit. They won’t physically stop you, (they know the worst thing they can do is put their hands on you) but you know that’s where their “help” begins and ends.

At one point you even tried to play ball and asked for His permission last time you were in LA and you had wanted to go to the Griffith Observatory. You had asked in advance, agreed to only being there for two hours, and even gave in to being essentially chaperoned from a distance. Initially He had agreed to the terms and You thought you had done good and maybe you were finally coming to somewhat of a middle ground with him.

But in the days leading up to the trip He would ask for favors in return. They all just happened to be things you had refused to do for him up until that point. When you refused He would at first seemingly accept your answer, and then He would idly remind you of your upcoming trip before asking you again. You weren’t stupid enough to miss the connection and so you did what you thought you had to do for just the slightest taste of freedom.

Who are you kidding?

You practically begged and did tricks for Him like a dog for just the slightest bit of slack on your leash.

You could barely move the morning of the trip both physically and emotionally drained from what he had you do the night before, but you still persevered if only to make all that you went through worth it.

It wasn’t worth it.

Everything you saw that day was completely soured by what you had to do to get there. Every step felt like agony, and you had to make a conscious effort to not walk funny. And before you knew it the two hours were up and Red was telling you it was time to leave.

You don’t know what’s worse, the punishments or the favors.

You had to go the favor route today as otherwise he would have simply sent for someone to get you whatever books they could find, rather than letting you pick. You already know you’re going to get it when he finds out you went to a different bookstore than initially planned. You thought you could at the very least make it worth it by seeing one familiar face, but even fate denied you that as Gina was nowhere to be seen.

It was cold enough to justify wearing something to cover up most of the bruises, but that didn’t mean they were all hidden. You wouldn’t know it at the time but your skittishness coupled with the bruises struck a chord with Susan before you fully checked out of the store.

“I’m sorry if this sounds like an odd question but ummm…” you say, glancing around, making sure that Sonny was too far to hear. “Does Gina work here?”

Sue immediately tenses up, and you curse your caginess, as you reassure her that you’re Gina’s niece, Y/N. She seems to relax hearing that so at least she knows that you try to maintain a good relationship, sporadic your letters may be.

“What happened there honey?” she asks, gesturing to your wrist that has a ring of bruises on it, which you quickly move to hide. You internally curse yourself for your sloppiness. He doesn’t mean to hurt you but he tends to lose himself and be a little rougher especially when he’s worried about something else.

He’s been a little rougher for a few months now.

“Oh-ummm,” you steal a glance at Sonny, who was making his way to the counter. “Yes I am ready to check out.” Gesturing to the three towers of books you’ve managed to accumulate.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Sue nor does she miss Sonny's statement of remembering the rules as to what you’re allowed to get, if her disapproving look is anything to go by. He’s fine with you reading but doesn’t like you reading books that will put “ideas” in your head.

You don’t exactly know what that means as the standards seem to change depending on His mood and it’s always a gamble as to what he will or won’t allow you to have. You fear the day He grows the same hatred for fictional men that he has for any man within your vicinity.

You're genuinely sad when it comes time to pay, (Well Sonny pays, He doesn’t like the idea of you handling money), and then Susan does something you could never have anticipated in a million years as Sonny grabs one stack and goes to put it in the car.

You wished it had been anybody but Sonny that day. His last girlfriend, whom he swore he was gonna make Mrs. Sonny West, had made the mistake of trying to befriend you outside of gatherings. She stopped by the house frequently just to visit and even invited you out to the salon.

And it was your mistake to believe you could have a friend that he would finally approve of. Friend or family, He eventually found something to disapprove of for everybody close to you previously. You thought that because she was already nominally part of the group, it would be fine to go.

He made it clear by the time you got home that it wasn’t.

You never saw her again after that and Sonny’s resented you ever since. You can hardly blame him, it’s easier to point the finger at you for not anticipating the unspoken rules, as opposed to the man who signs his checks and makes the rules.

You know that even the slightest toe out of line will be reported back to Him in the worst light. So you had to be on your best behavior.

“Y’know I highly recommend this book,” Sue says, sliding the book she had been reading at the counter to you.

Wide Sargasso Sea, the cover reads.

“Oh thank you but I already paid,” you say, almost afraid of this conversation. “And besides I already have enough books.”

“Sweetheart you can never have too many,” she insists and without looking opens it up to the first page where you see a little handwritten note. She closes it up before you can see what it says and slyly slots it in the middle of a stack.

Later on when you feel sufficiently safe enough to look at it you nearly burst into tears.

In case you need help

feel free to call

(xxx-xxxx)

Such a small thing really, but it’s the most human connection you’ve had with anyone else but Him in a long time.

You spend the next hour or two committing that string of numbers to memory before you proceed to rip out that page, shred it, and flush the remnants down the toilet.

Even when you were burning the number into your brain, you never thought you would have ever had the guts to use it. Back when you thought you could accept what looked to be your fate.

It would be unfair to say it was all bad, after all there was a reason you did fall for Him in the first place. When you would read mysteries and He would listen to you criticize the culprits' plans and schemes and he would look in awe at how you would’ve gotten away with it. Or how fun it was to sneak out with him, your family none the wiser. Even when things got bad and it felt like He was the only one that would talk to you for days, you cherished it because it truly felt like he was your life line.

When things were good they were great, it was just when they were bad did you start to recognize them.

Things were bad a lot towards the end.

Gladys had been one of the few willing to go to bat for you, and perhaps the only one who He would listen to. She was the only one who could set him straight when he got huffy at the thought of you having some basic independence of being able to go outside and not needing to be watched like a child all the time.

She was the one you went to with your suspicions and early symptoms, when you were too afraid to go to the doctor that reported right back to Him.

She had also been the only one who knew your fears about having this baby. In your mind there were a total of two possibilities for the life the baby would live. One that they would live a life like yours, isolated within the walls of the house under their fathers obsessive gaze, never to experience the outside world. Or two He would hate the baby on principle and see it as just competition for your time and attention like he did with everybody else.

She did her best to try to quell your fears, trying to assert He would never do either of those things, especially, the last one.

But you saw it in her eyes how she knows how sour He would get when he would come home to find you playing with his younger cousins. How He gets when someone new so much as looks your way a beat too long, or has the gall to get your attention.

How you’re barely allowed to talk to other girls your own age and that’s only saved for special occasions when his friends bring their girlfriends and He’s otherwise occupied. And even then He has a penchant for just removing you from them just to have you sit with him, and you’re out in the awkward position of being the odd one out in his group.

How when you did gather up the nerve to bring up the topic of babies to him one night his answer was “I ain’t ready to share ya’ darlin’, I don’t think I’ll eva be.”

But your most hard-hitting evidence was what happened to your dog, Hardy. He had been an old stray you saw skulking around the property, and whom you took in when He was touring. Hardy didn’t have much of an interest in running around or playing fetch, just sitting by your side and eating treats.

Everything was good until He returned. You knew it was gonna be trouble the moment He walked through the door and saw you scratching the dog’s belly. Inspite of the fact that Hardy was usually tolerant of strangers, something about Him immediately put the usually placid dog on edge. You immediately got to work on trying to find some sort of compromise in regards to him, and offered everything from making Hardy a permanently outside dog to even being willing to have him be boarded with a family member while He was home.

You had asked Gladys where Hardy was the very next morning when you couldn’t find him anywhere, only to be told that He had taken him out for a walk. You didn’t have the heart to be told a lie when He returned alone.

He started taking you with him at that point, and you hardly knew a moment's peace after that.

Your attention is not your own to freely give away, let alone your affection, He expects it all to go to him. He did lord knows what to a dog that had had the misfortune of occupying some of your time when he was there, you hardly wanted to chance the life of a baby that would need all of it.

However in spite of all of that, you thought with her by your side you would be able to weather his reaction, whatever it may be. Even if your worst fear came to be and He didn’t really want anything to do with the baby, you could at least have someone to love the baby just as fiercely even when you were otherwise occupied by Him. It wasn’t necessarily fair, but you could somewhat see the function of it, and in spite of the weariness he’s instilled in you by that point, you were still reasonably confident in your ability to plan for the long term.

And then Gladys died.

And you were left to navigate the hardest thing you could face alone.

“Ain’t nobody ever talks about how hard this can be. Or how easy it is to mess up,” Sue continues as she polishes off her plate. “But maybe…” she prods. “If you had a partner to help ease the load, you wouldn’t doubt yourself so much.”

You groan at this point wanting to truly be done with this day already. “Not this again,” you bemoan.

“Honey,” she says with a firm but comforting grip on your shoulder. “I know a thing or two about leaving bad things behind, but I do think sometimes you need to let someone else in to help you recover,” she says. And almost like they rehearsed it, Gina comes in with a mug of tea, and a kiss to Susan’s forehead as she demands she go back to bed to rest up.

You want to argue back that you did a good enough job of recovering by yourself, but that’s hardly fair to say considering how you were about as helpless as Rosie herself that first year and a half you were here. You had thought that you would’ve been out of here maybe a couple months after giving birth, and been in a completely new place with no ties whatsoever. But the reality is that there’s no possible way you or Rosie would have survived without the help they were so willing to give.

And that’s all they’re trying to do now.

You take a minute to fully gather yourself, as you realize you being upset won’t help Rosie in the slightest. You also pick up the slice of cake, as you don’t want her to think she’s being punished for being upset with you.

You find her hiding underneath the blankets of the bed you share with her and you can only hear sniffling at this point. You try to approach this delicately, as this is new territory for the both of you, so you place the cake on the nightstand, crawl underneath the sheets with her, and allow for her to come to you. Luckily you don’t have to wait for long.

“Mama!” she cries as she buries her face in your bosom, her tears already soaking through the cotton material. “Mama, I didn’t mean it! Please don’t be mad! I’m sorry Mama! Please don’t leave.”

“Sweetheart it’s okay,” you reassure her, running your nails up and down her back, as it always did the trick of settling her down when she was a baby. “Mama’s not goin’ anywhere without you. I’m always gonna be with you.” You hardly put her down her first year of life, going against all the books and holding her at just about every possible moment, so you can hardly fathom where she got this idea in her head that you would leave if you got upset with her. But remembering what Jenny had told you earlier, you have the sneaking suspicion it is related to her noticing the lack of a father in her life.

“I’m sorry mama! I’m sorry…” she repeats over and over again, and for each time you make sure to reassure her that nothing she could ever do would make you leave.

Finally when she’s tired herself out and her eyes are red and raw do you finally speak. “Rosie, it’s okay to be mad, but it’s not okay to be mean, because you’re mad,” you say softly to her running your nails on her back, something that has always soothed her.

She rubs her eyes and wipes her runny nose before looking up at you again, and gives a groggy “I understand Mama.”

“Good,” you say, kissing her forehead. “Now can you help me finish this cake.”

You see her eyes widen before she eagerly grabs the fork and dives right in. With your help, it’s not long before it’s almost entirely gone and when she takes that final bite of the cake she goes wide-eyed sticking her fingers in her mouth to pick out the errant piece. “What’s this Mama?” she says holding the little porcelain baby up.

“Oh you found it Rosie,” you say excitedly, “This means you’re going to have good luck.”

“... Like a wish?”

“Sort of,” you answer.

She gives an excited shriek before she clasps the little figurine in her hands and whispers something almost inaudible to it, with the only recognizable words being “Danny” and “Neverland.” You’re slightly disappointed that your lesson hadn’t quite landed today, but you choose to leave it for now, as you don’t see the harm in wishing to go to a non-existent magical place.

Once teeth are brushed and pajamas are put on, Rosie settles into bed, but not before making sure you’re not about to break your long-held tradition of storytime. She’s the type of kid who when she likes one story she demands to hear it over and over again.

And lately she’s latched onto Rapunzel.

The whole concept does unsettle you greatly, for how close it is to your story. But whatever qualms you have with the story you’re not gonna deny your daughter, because your problems are your own cross to bear, not hers.

As you read it you get to the part where the witch mother casts her out of the tower and she wanders the forests with her children. You wonder if Rapunzel ever found joy in those years away from the mother who isolated her, away from the prince who could have taken advantage of her. She survived not only on her own, but kept others alive as well. WHat did she do? Did she forage and hunt for her babies, did she find a village where she could work to support her family?

Sometimes you wonder if she did truly live happily after the end of the story, or if she traded one cage for another as you did before.

Your daughter is long asleep by the time you reach the happily ever after part of the story. She’s still in the habit of sucking her thumb at night, so you gently remove it, and put one of her favorite stuffies in her arms. And that marks the end of your daily duties, so in theory you should be able to finally fall asleep and be done with this day.

In theory.

In actuality you creep out of the bed you share with your daughter into the single bathroom of the apartment. Usually her steady breathing tends to be enough to get you to fall asleep, it’s been that way ever since she was a baby, but you’re left feeling agitated having had to think of Him more than usual today.

Not just because of the song on the radio, but Rosie’s outburst reminded you far too much of her father. It feels like the worst injustice that she mimics someone who isn’t even here.

Now that ain’t my fault now is it darlin’? A familiar voice whispers in your mind. You feel a shudder run down your spine at the thought of him, not to mention the way you shamefully feel yourself pool within your underwear. You slide down the bathroom door, out of sight of the mirror, as though that will prevent you from facing what you’re about to do. You even close your eyes for good measure as your hand reaches your folds and your fingers caress the slick outer lips of your pussy.

You had tried to ignore this part of yourself for so long. You justified it during your pregnancy, as your body had been making you want to do other stupid things like sleep right in the middle of the store or eat paint chips. Even after giving birth and your inner feelings remaining unchanged, you justified it by thinking you were just particularly lonely, and for all that he kept you isolated, you were never alone when you were with him. Or that he was the only man you ever knew that way so he’s all you had to go off of in order to satisfy these urges.

For as much as your mind curses Him for ever coming into your life, even after all these years, your body has yet to catch up.

You’re far from unique in your desire for him, but it’s especially shameful for you as you know what he’s truly like. It’s like scratching a mosquito bite, you may know that it’ll just make the itching worse, but dear god did it feel good in the moment.

But even that is far from an accurate description as you plunge your on fingers into your sopping channel in a poor imitation of what you remember.

You bite your lip in an effort to keep noises at bay but it just makes you concentrate on the wet squelching sounds echoing through the bathroom as you plunge your fingers into yourself. The sharp sting of pain forcing your mind back to where you experience the most of it.

“You’re so sweet darlin’,” he purrs, his jaw glistening from your juices having just made a feast of you for the past hour or so. He had made it a game to see how close he could bring you without actually letting you cum, something he tends to do when someone looks your way for a little too long, as though he means to re-establish his claim over you. That only he can give you pleasure like this but take it away on a whim if he chooses.

“No more…” you beg, new tears forming and following the trail previously set, your lips undoubtedly bruised from how much you have been chewing on them throughout. “Please,” your thighs aching from the death grip he has them in, undoubtedly leaving bruises for you to feel in the morning.

“Alright,” he says seemingly conceding. But before you can breathe a sigh of relief, he continues, “we’ll switch it up for tonight.”

He flips you over to your front, spreads your legs wide open again, and dives right back in.

You can’t help the way you’re left trembling from the memory, but what does shake you somewhat is the when you realize that it’s not simply the ghost of the memory that is making you feel that bruising pressure on your inner thigh, but in fact your own hand keeping it there.

Still the masochist within you that yearns for the ghost of a man you once thought you knew takes a hold and refuses to let go now that you’re so close to release. So you give in and continue your frantic movements biting down hard on your lip to prevent any errant cries from leaving, and grip onto your thigh for dear life, even now trying to deny yourself that you want him here with you.

As you’re coming down from your high, you fight back your tears of shame. Trying to remind yourself why you left in the first place. How for all the moments he made you feel amazing, they weren’t worth the amount of grief he caused you on a near day-to-day basis.

Grief he’s still causing you more like it.

You don’t think you could have written a better love story in the beginning. You met him when your eyes locked on each other from across your favorite bookstore back in Memphis. He had oh so shyly approached you and asked what you were reading, a bit starry eyed as he listened. Back then and arguably still the concept of a man listening to you was such a novel and unique thing to experience.

It progressed from there, hand-holding in the school hallway, shared milkshakes at the local diner, and Sunday dinners with his family. Of course there were the less than wholesome aspects of your relationship of stray hands when no one was looking and heated kisses after a particularly rousing performance.

Truly the hallmarks of the greatest love story the world had ever seen.

If only you knew how wrong a love story can go, because your story went very wrong.

You vividly remember your first time with him.

Undoubtedly the cruelest thing he ever did to you.

You were never supposed to find out about the other girls, well that’s not true. The newspapers sure knew about them but he had convinced you that it was all nonsense and that he would never do that to you. All of his friends knew, hell even some of their girlfriends knew, but ideally you were never supposed to find out.

But the only chink in the armor was that there was in fact someone who had wanted you out as soon as he stepped in. Fact of the matter is that he was practically giddy as he told you what your fiance had been doing on the road up until that point. You were heartbroken and humiliated as to what he did and even more so when you learned he had been gearing up to break up with you the night he proposed, but only stopped when he realized that you wouldn’t be waiting for him, once his career settled.

He had been calling your house non-stop and sending his friends over all with the mission to coax you into talking to him. Worse still he even got your own friends in on it and now you can’t have a single conversation with any of them that doesn’t turn into them telling you how sorry he feels for hurting you and how he desperately wants you back.

The only people, aside from his manager, that were happy at this development were your parents. They had liked him up until he started to really take off in his career, and they wanted none of the controversy, especially when it came to your squeaky clean, good girl image they had for you.

They’ve been walking around with the smuggest “I told you so” looks ever since you announced that you were done with him. If only they knew their good girl had been sneaking in her boyfriend for the past three years and had a whole routine for doing so.

But the downside to this is that He was just as aware of the routine as you were. And despite it having been awhile he evidently remembered enough as he stood outside your window, right after all the lights in your house had gone out.

“Get outta here,” you hiss at him, opening the window just a crack. “You’re gonna wake up my parents.”

“Baby I gotta talk to you,” he pleads, his face utterly heartbroken. Guilt eats at you, knowing how there were days you wished you could go back to not knowing at all. But then you get angry at not only him but yourself for these thoughts.

If only all of your love for him had died the moment you found out, you would’ve had the strength to shut the window on him that night, and your life probably would’ve taken a very different course.

But no, you’re hurt and you felt that you had to have the final word. “Talk to one a your other girls,” you say as you move to close your window but he beats you to it and ends up opening it wider, allowing for him to fully step into your space.

“Get out,” you say severely. “Get out, or I’ll scream.”

“Darlin’, please listen,” he begs.

“Don’tchu ‘baby’ ‘darlin’ me,” you whisper-yell.

“I swear things’ll be different this time round,” he pleads, clasping his hands in yours.

“I’m done with your nonsense, I want you outta my house and outta my life.” tears are already streaming down your face and you make no motion to wipe them away. If he’s gonna hurt you like this he deserves to know.

He looks at you. Truly looks at you and sees that you’re dead serious about this, that for you there is no coming back from this.

“Okay,” he says solemnly, looking down at you more defeated than you’ve ever seen him, unfelled tears doting his eyes, and his bottom lip trembling.

That takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it. “Good,” you say, trying to stamp down the urge to be mad that he’s not fighting harder. There is a hurricane of emotions going through your entire being, hating him and loving him at the same time, but you recognize that you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of being able to sort through said emotions while he’s here.

“But…”

“But?” you say, confused as to what more there is to say.

“Let me have you,” he begs breathlessly, stepping closer to you, boxing you into the wall behind you. “Just for tonight,” he clarifies as though that’s gonna make it better.

That offends you but you can’t afford to raise your voice so you hiss at him that it’s not as though you didn’t offer when he was here. “I ain’t ever gonna forgive myself for bein’ so stupid and steppin’ out on you, I-I thought I had more time, tha-that we’d got the rest of our lives together,” he says his voice painfully small, and his eyes pleading with you to agree.

Your heart swells hearing his words, pleading with your brain to forgive him seeing how much pain the thought of never being with you again is causing the both of you. Another, unmentionable part is also hounding your brain to accept his offer if only for the fact that you had wanted this yourself for so long.

“If-If I do that…” you say in a low voice, your face burning as to what the both of you want but aren’t saying aloud. “Then you’ll leave and never come back?” though even as you say that you’re not exactly sure how you feel over that prospect.

“Just one night sweetheart,” he begs, giving you a quick desperate kiss to your lips. “One night to know what a life with you could’ve been like, and I’ll be outta yer hair forever,” he says with a quick peck to your lips.

He makes it almost sound romantic, not like he’s quite literally backing you into a corner, and coaxing you into something you’re not sure you want just so that you would finally know peace from him. But that's far from your mind as that little bit of contact does something to you and it’s like opening the floodgates for all the feelings for him you’ve been trying to bury.

It feels like you're transported to almost a year ago when, he would sneak his way back into your room after having said his goodbyes to your family and parking his car around the corner out of view. How you both move your blankets and pillows onto the floor to avoid the creaky springs of your mattress, how you both keep your voices low, and muffle most sounds with the pillows, how he kicks off his shoes and unbuttons his shirt before slowly undressing you, your body being treated like a present to unwrap.

Like this it’s easy to forget what he did, easy to forget the pain he’s caused when he’s treating you so sweetly. Kissing every inch of skin, nipping at your sensitive skin every so often, before laving at the bruising area with his tongue. You bite down on your lip hard, willing yourself to keep a cap on the filthy moans and declarations of love alike.

You had done things with him before but it had never felt quite like this. He had always been insistent that you wait until the wedding night for that, wanting to savor you and all you had to offer before the time came. Which made it feel all the worse when you did find out about those other girls. Your friends had tried to justify it by saying that he was just getting in some “practice” for you, but that hardly made it feel any better.

But the way he touches you, so sure of his newfound skills, it’s almost easy to forgive him. He treats you almost deceptively sweet, and for as hard as you try to keep yourself quiet, you admittedly don’t do a great job at it. But you manage to keep a good enough lid on yourself. But as it goes on it feels like he himself forgets that he had to do the same, as moans and groans alike continue to escape from his mouth.

That should’ve been your first clue that he was up to something, but by then as he continues to bury himself deeper and deeper into you, you can’t focus on much else. Had you been thinking straight you would remember he arguably has better control of himself than you do, as he often would tease you over it.

But in the moment that’s not what you’re thinking about. All you had on your brain was him, and how good and right he felt.

If you could go back in time you think you would’ve strangled your younger, far more naive self, as now in retrospect it became clear what he was planning on doing. He had no qualms to exposing what you had done already with him if it meant merely getting a chance to talk to you, why wouldn’t he take the opportunity to go full scorched earth if given the chance.

He continues his steady rhythm, and when he whispers in your ear, “It’s only ever gonna be you, darlin’,” you find yourself letting out a silent scream. Your eyes screwed shut, so lost in the pleasure of it all, you would only get the tail-end of the disdainful look he would give upon failing to get you to crack.

Still you vividly remember how conflicted you did feel in the moment, how for all that it felt good, it also made your stomach turn, for all the hurt he’s caused you yet how deceptively sweet he could be to you. It just gave you a serious case of whiplash.

But you were so focused on keeping as quiet as possible not even being able to fathom the heap of trouble you would be in should your parents ever find out. You could hardly fathom the agent of your destruction laid within you, but it wasn’t until it was too late did it truly click.

That devious look he had in his eyes, the one that spoke nothing but trouble. The very same look that seemingly first trapped you all those years ago when you caught it staring at you from across the bookstore. He picked up his rhythm, not allowing for you to fully recover, from the last time, as he pistons into you seeking out release for himself.

You were so dizzy in that moment you didn’t register how he raised his hand onto your night table, before quickly slamming it three times into the wall.

The very wall you shared with your parents.

Even in the moment you didn’t fully recognize what he had just done, everything sort of blurring together. Before you can even hope to get your bearings, he’s spinning the both of you around so that you now were on top of him, his fingers digging bruises into your hips, as he thrusts back up into you, no longer trying to feign tenderness, as he seems to rip another climax from you as he lets an unrestrained groan fall from his lips, while your inner walls tighten around him.

Even in your haze, you realize that this is bad, and you manage to gather yourself enough to slap your hand over his mouth, but that does little to muffle the singer. Especially as it seems as though he's hellbent to be heard. “What did you just do?” you ask unbelieving, frozen in fear even as you hear the muffled shouts of your father through the wall. You feel underneath your palm as his mouth curls into a grin, as he shudders and you feel his hot seed burn you from within. And that’s when you hear the powerful footfalls of your father burst out of his room before he slams open your bedroom door.

You can only imagine the image you make at that moment, naked sitting astride the nearly fully clothed boy you had sworn up and down for weeks you were done for good with. “What in the hell is going on in here!” your father shouts at the top of his lungs.

Everything after that happens in a blur of your fathers harsh shouts and the sharp sting that comes from your mothers hand across your face as she calls you a whore. By the time it’s all said and done you’re on your knees at the front door begging them to let you back into the house.

“Take her with you,” your daddy practically spat at him as he tossed you to your knees outside of what was once your home. “I didn’t raise no whores, and you seem to now be in the business a collectin’ them.”

You can almost hear the sound of a rattlesnake as his arm coils around your shoulder, laying his jacket over your weeping form like a gentleman. “Don’tchu worry baby,” he whispers in your ear.

He’s almost angelic in his appearance, playing the savior role well, having escaped your home relatively unscathed and in remarkably high-spirits for the situation. But you don’t have much of a choice in the moment, remembering Gina’s words of how easily this family will toss aside wayward women, but it never truly sunk in that you were liable to become one.

He would tell everybody that your daddy had thrown you out after asserting that you still wanted to be with Him in spite of all of that he’s done, and your folks practically disowned you for it. You let him say what he wants because you don’t see a point in telling the truth and if you’re being honest, part of you wants to believe it. It was a far more romantic story than what had actually happened.

As you’re coming down from your second and somehow less satisfying orgasm, does the guilt start to creep in. Even after all these years you still yearn for his touch.

But that is so much easier to admit than the alternative of missing Him.

It eats at you that you still think of Him like this after all that he did to you, and worse still it’s almost like you want him to come back.

Your heart practically leaps out your chest when you hear a soft knock at the door and for one horrifying second you think you’ve somehow summoned him to you.

“Mama…” you hear a small voice whimper behind the locked door, and you breathe a sigh of relief. “Mama, I threw up.”

You don’t know if it’s a consolidation of three different people telling you the same thing in one day, the culmination of your late night loneliness for the past four or so years, or the noxious fumes of the truly unholy combination of stomach acid, red beans, and Jelly Beans that you had to clean up in your sleep deprived state, but you come to the conclusion that you can no longer do this by yourself.

Being a mother tended to be enough of a deterrent to most men in the city, which didn’t bother you one bit, but it did make you feel all the worse when you did meet the few who were still willing even after learning about Rosie.

Sam or Lou may very well have been as nice and understanding as they seemed to be, but because of Him, you now look suspiciously at every man trying to get close.

Perhaps the women in your life were onto something and it is about time for you to move on with your life. Because if you resolve yourself to being for all intents and purposes a shut-in who never knew another man’s touch other than His, then you ran for nothing.

So it’s with a semi-defeated sigh that you tell Jenny the next morning to send over Lee’s friend to the shop while you’re working to “see how it goes.”

You do admittedly put a little more effort into your appearance than you would on an average day and you perk up every time a man who looked close to your age walked in. But if any of them were sent by Jenny they didn’t mention it.

You only ever had one boyfriend when you were a teen, so it feels more than a bit intimidating to go into this, but you can’t deny yourself a life anymore.

Afterall if you don’t then you may as well have stayed in Memphis.

The day goes by and of the few men that do enter the shop, of the few that seem interested in you, none of them knew who Jenny was.

It’s well past closing and feeling both tired and rejected, however the bane of your existence you call Jenny has yet to return, so you instead just flip the sign without properly locking up and hope they’ll be back soon. This isn’t necessarily unusual but you’re just eager for this day to end and hope that a nice cuddle with your daughter will be enough to lift your spirits.

But for now there are books that need to be out back.

Soon you finally hear the shop bell ring, but instead of the comforting tiny footsteps or the recognizable clack of Jenny’s heels, you instead hear an unfamiliar pattern of heavy footsteps over the low volume of the radio. You look between the shelves from where you’re stocking books in the back and while you can’t make out specific details you see what is undoubtedly the shape of a man standing at the counter.

“I’m sorry Sir,” you announce still from behind the shelf. “We’re closed for the evening, but please feel free to return tomorrow.”

“Oh I ain’t going anywhere sweetheart,” a voice drawls.

A voice you would recognize anywhere.

You think you begin to understand at that moment why some animals will chew off their own arms to escape a trap. After all, what is a limb or two in the face of inevitable doom? And even when they do eventually die, they will at least go with their head held high knowing that they did all that they could, because better dead than captured.

But you stand there frozen, barely capable of breathing at a steady rate. You feel like every drop of blood has been drained from your body. Like someone reached into your lungs and snatched the air right out of them. Like your bones have lost all integrity and you’re only kept standing by the mere fact you don’t want to draw attention to yourself.

He is here.

Elvis is here.

Not only that but the footsteps getting louder tell you he is getting closer.

Fuck.

Your mind is going a million miles an hour to try to get out of this, but all of them fall flat when you remember your daughter is not here and if you were to run that would just leave her in his clutches. So rather than act on any plan, you walk out from behind the bookshelf, because there is no point fighting the inevitable.

You’re hoping your look isn’t so much deer in the headlights and more awestruck and in disbelief that he found you. Which is true to some extent as you thought you had been so careful all these years, so all you can muster out when you see him for the first time is a pathetic little “h-how?”

Your hackles raise slightly as you see him reach behind him, and to your surprise he pulls out an old battered copy of Nancy Drew. You’re so confused for a second until you recognize it as yours.

One of the many that Gina would send you periodically when you lived with your parents.

One of the many that had the name of this very store stamped to the inner cover.

One of the many you took with you when you were kicked out.

One of the many left behind at Graceland.

Fuck.

You want to kick yourself both for being so careless in your haste to leave, but you have no time for that as he says, “I ain’t as smart as you baby, but I figured out your breadcrumbs eventually.”

He thinks you wanted him to find you.

Didn’tchu though?

“E-Elvis…” you whisper, the single name somehow feeling wrong as it comes out of your mouth. You’ve avoided even thinking about it all these years, as though if you try hard enough you’ll be able to purge him from your mind and thus from your life. As though simply uttering it will somehow summon him.

That theory isn’t disproven as he, as usual, wastes no time in getting straight to what he came here for, his long legs carrying himself to you as he moves to engulf you within his arms. You stave off the immediate instinct of putting your hands up and allow this to happen, remembering what used to happen when you would deny him.

He even goes so far as to spin you around, and you lose your footing and have to rely on him in order to not face plant onto the floor. But this works all the better to create the image of the long-lost lovers joyfully reuniting after so long.

But as he gazes into your eyes, it isn’t fully complete until he leans down to capture your lips. You would like to say you had to force yourself not to flinch away, but even you would know you’re not that good of a liar.

It’s a kiss for the ages truly, both all-consuming and yet leaving you longing for more. The pitfall of having denied getting close to anyone these past few years now show themselves full-force as you on instinct lean full-force into his touch, and welcome his kiss, even fully knowing how precarious your situation is.

All these years you never could’ve imagined how much you could miss touch- how much you could miss his touch. The kiss itself isn’t even broken until he roughly moves you against the bookshelf and forces his thigh between yours and your left gasping for air as you feel him for the first time.

And you can’t help the little whine that leaves your lips before you gather yourself once more to look him in the eyes.

“Did’ya miss me sweetheart?” he whispers against your lips.

“I…” you say, tears welling in your eyes. “I’ve thought about you every night.”

This is not a lie.

His fond expression doesn’t crack an inch as you say that, but before you can sigh an internal breath of relief, you feel a tight grip on your wrist as well as on your jaw.

“Then where’ve you been all these years,” he says, low and dangerous.

It’s certainly not an unfair question to ask. But you’ve been prepared to answer this question since the moment you stepped foot outside of Graceland for a quick errand.

You don’t know what he knows yet, and that’s terrifying.

“I…I…” you say in a quiet voice, all your years of preparation failing you when you needed it the most.

In the back of your mind, though you are loath to admit it, you think you always knew this day was coming, that he would find you, and the only thing you could do was to try to lessen the blowback you would experience. It’s why yours and your daughter’s last name is Love. It’s why you never tried to get involved with another man. It’s why you even made that goddamn deal in the first place.

“I’m going to disappear,” you say, casually taking a sip of your tea, not truly a fan of the taste, but lately it’s been one of the few things your sensitive stomach could handle. “And you’re gonna help me do that.” You couldn’t just ask anyone for help on this, you were surrounded only by sychophants who would do practically anything for Elvis, so you had to look elsewhere to the person whose only side he was on, was his own.

“And why would I help you?” The Colonel said, idly stirring his coffee, but obviously trying to mask the spark of interest in his eyes. For as much of a slimeball as he can be, you would be a fool to not acknowledge that he’s a decent enough businessman at the end of the day to recognize a good deal when he sees one.

“Because you want me gone as much as I wanna be gone,” you state. He hated that Elvis kept you around, even more so when Elvis made it clear he had no intention of staying a bachelor once he finished service.

Truly under any other circumstance he would be the last person in this house you would confide in, but though your desires were very different they did often run parallel. Something you realized when he talked Elvis out of eloping right before he got shipped out and into a long engagement. Truly the greatest boon you’ve been given since you’ve gotten here, the lack of recognizability or association with the rockstar will serve your purposes all the better.

“Can’t argue with that logic girl,” he says, taking a bite out of the muffins you had baked this morning as a peace offering to him. “Why do you even need my help?” he questions.

“Because I need someone to make sure that he doesn’t ever find me,” you declare, you had practiced this in your head so many times, too afraid to ever voice it aloud or write it down should any of it get back to him. Even an Ocean away you still feel his breath on the back of your neck, with the only safe place being inside your head.

You had excused yourself from following him to Germany by feigning sickness with the promise that you would join him as soon as you felt better. Which wasn’t hard to do considering your symptoms before he left, left you practically bedridden.

Ever since you figured out your… condition (it felt too scary to even think in your head, let alone voice out loud), your mind had been running rampant with all of the possibilities of how he would react. None of which you're willing to risk coming to fruition.

“And if I said No?” he asks, but from the look in his eyes he’s all but ready to pack your bags himself. Part of you feels guilty to leave the boy you once loved with such a man, but you have bigger things to worry about now.

“You’re absolutely free to say no, Parker,” you assure, but he’s savvy enough to know that’s not the end of it. You don’t know whether it’s you mimicking the late Gladys Presley, or something that comes natural with becoming a mother, however you do know you need to assert yourself now of all times, not just for your sake but your baby’s. “Regardless of your help or not, I’m gonna to leave. Now whether I’m gone for twenty minutes or twenty years, will all depend on you, but know that this will also determine how long you’ll be able to keep your position as Manager.”

He seems to bristle at your words, “And how do you figure dat Lil’ Miss?” he says with a dangerous look in his eyes as you seem to threaten the only thing he happens to care about. But once you do explain it he looks at you with no small amount of respect in his eyes as he mulls over your plan. “Quite devious,” he comments, literally tipping his hat at you. “I think I’m beginnin’ to get what he sees in you.”

You're far from proud of your plan, and the slimeball’s admiration of it doesn’t help either, but you know for a fact it will work, and Parker is gonna make damn sure that he doesn’t ever find you.

You made that plan practically bulletproof, but you never factored into account that you would choke in the moment that it truly matters. “Elvis I…” you trail off, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, clutching your hands on his shirt to keep yourself somewhat steady, trembling from the effort it takes to maintain that makeshift barrier. You’re either about to give the performance of a lifetime or… or…

You can’t think like that otherwise…

This has to work.

Your brain is going a million miles a minute, trying to remind yourself that you have to make this work if you have any hope of getting out of this without him ever having a chance of finding her.

But in real time you watch as this notion turns to ash in your mouth.

You feel as your blood freezes in your veins when you hear the door slam open only to be followed by the familiar little dashing footsteps. Your heart drops into your stomach as you hear your daughter stop dead in her tracks and you want to throw up at the thought of him laying eyes on her. This is truly what all your nightmares have been building up to, but even they paled in comparison to the reality of what would actually happen.

“Danny!!!” she squeals at the top of her lungs, before sprinting right into the arms of the man you were so desperately running from. You’re too shocked to do anything about it at the moment, and only watch in horror as something beyond your worst nightmare plays out before your very eyes.

Even when your instincts kick in to keep her away from him, he casually moves your hands out of the way as he easily scoops her up and over his head, practically playing keep away as you try to take her back. “Is today the day!?!?” she squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck as best she could, giving him a kiss on the cheek, none the wiser at the danger the two of you were in.

“It sure is baby girl,” he says with a mile wide grin on his face. “Why don’tcha go pack everything you’re gonna need in Neverland?” You don’t miss the way his eyes slide your way, no doubt trying to gauge your reaction.

She squeals in delight, as she jumps out of his arms and makes her way to the stairs, completely oblivious to your state.

Everything your daughter ever said about “Danny” suddenly makes a whole lot more sense, and you can’t help but want to kick yourself for not paying attention. You thought she was safe with Jenny, you want to throw up at the thought that you unintentionally sent her into the lion's den without her.

She doesn’t even have the decency to face you in that moment, seeing her right outside the window, in Lee’s arms -or Charlie as you would later learn- pointedly not looking in.

You don’t have the luxury of being mad as you feel his attention focus back on you in that moment.

“Now…,” he says as he brings your face closer to his, tenderly grabbing your chin, wiping away a tear. “You wanna try again, sweetheart,” he grins maliciously, knowing you’ll have no choice but to be “honest.”

And that’s it you have only one card left to play and you pray whatever forces that have written the story of your life will be merciful and let this plan work as you hoped it would all those years ago.

You fall to your knees and begin to sob uncontrollably into your palms. It’s actually easier than you had initially hoped, it in fact takes more effort not to cry when you think about him. It’s a miracle you’ve been able to stay this intelligible up to this point.

“Elvis,” you cry, trying to sound as pathetic and heartbroken as you possibly could. “Elvis I-I-I’m so sorry,” you stutter trying to really sell it. “He-he told me that you kn-knew and you didn’t want me anymore,” you hiccup for good measure. “Ho-how you couldn’t have a baby weighing you down, and that-that if I ever came back, he would make sure I would lose her for good.”

You start to hyperventilate, but it’s far from intentional, as you know your very life is at stake in this moment. If he doesn’t believe you… you can’t think like that.

You know him well enough to know that he won’t believe your words specifically, but he does believe in the world he’s created in his head. That regardless of what you feel, what you say, or even what you do, you love him and want to be with him- always. It’s just others preventing that from happening. It was the women who tempted him on the road, and then it was your family speaking poison in your ear, and then it was the men he couldn’t trust to not look your way. It was never you personally, regardless of how he would sometimes lash out at you, you wanted to be there because he wanted you to be there.

In the back of your mind when you had just barely begun to formulate leaving, you knew it would be foolish to believe there wasn’t a chance, no matter how slim, that he would find you. And you knew that it wouldn’t go without punishment should he ever find you should it ever occur. So you had to formulate a plan not just to leave, but how best to set yourself up if he ever returned.

(There have been some nights that you lay awake believing that you prepared so well not because you were paranoid, but because it was an inevitability.)

You hear his clothes shift as he kneels down before you, and he takes your chin into his hand though much gentler this time.

“Who’s ‘he’” he demands, voice as cold as a tomb.

He’s buying it, you think, though you have no time to celebrate. You let out a truly pathetic little blubber through your tears, purposefully unintelligible trying to sell the emotions.

“Who?” he asks, softer this time around, but no less urgent.

“The co-” you cut yourself off taking a deep steady breath. “The Colonel,” you whisper as though you fear speaking his name aloud will bring him to this very spot.

Parker’s far from innocent but you feel a slight twinge of guilt that his downfall would be for something he didn’t do as opposed to all the things he had done. But you can’t think like that anymore, it was gonna be either him or you.

Someone would need to suffer because of what you did, and you would be damned before it was you or your daughter.

And so Parker is now the villain who cruelly kept you and your daughter away from him, and not that you wanted so desperately to get away from him that you practically disappeared off the face of the Earth. But it seems like a fair trade. Parker loses his job, you lose your life. Maybe not in the literal sense, but in all the ways that matter you’ll be gone.

You don’t relax at all when you feel him gently cup your face in his hands to softly wipe your tears away. You look upon the devastatingly handsome man, as he looks as if he means to take you in his arms to never let you go.“Don’tchu worry baby,” he says, wiping your tears away. “You don’t gotta worry bout that rat bastard no more.” You let out a small cry, hoping it sounds more out of relief than out of devastation to his words. “So now you and Rosie can come home,” he states with a delusional smile on his face.

Despite the fact that you knew this would realistically end one of two ways, you can’t help but balk at the words. You try your best to smile at his words, but even you realize how hollow that gesture is, in spite of the part you know you’re meant to play in the moment, between the two of you, only one of you is an actor.

He’s having none of it as you feel the previously gentle hand cupping your face wrap around your throat. “Now. You. And. Rosie. Can. Come. Home.” he grits out, his grip around your neck tightening with each word emphasized.

He knows what your answer is, no doubt he’s just trying to rub salt in the wound knowing that it’s not a choice he’s giving you. This is all the proof you need that he doesn’t fully believe you, but is willing to play along. Leaving may have been forgivable, staying away for so long is another matter entirely.

He’s just punishing you for not being as enthusiastic as you should be at the prospect of coming “home,” as you should be.

You’re not playing pretend well enough.

“Mama!” Rosie squeals excitedly and when he lets go, you turn to see her making her way back downstairs, her favorite blanket now a makeshift rucksack of what you assume to be all toys dragging behind her. “Mama it worked!” she said, as she ran full tilt toward you, holding something in her palm. “Danny’s gonna take us to Neverland today.”

You see the little porcelain baby from the king cake and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere else. But you know better than to believe in wishes.

“Can we go now?” she says, her little hand grasping one of Elvis’ fingers and shaking furiously. “Now please,” she begs, before he scoops her up into his arms and propping her on his hip. He holds her close and you're forced to face what you have been ignoring all these years. The shape of the nose, the way her lips curl in such a specific way, there is only one place she could have gotten all of that from. It feels like just your luck that your child would be practically a carbon copy of the man you so desperately tried to get away from. Really it was only a matter of time before someone figured it out.

“Now hold ya’ horses yittle,” chucking her under the chin in a far too familiar manner, as she giggles in his arms. “Yer mama’s gotta get ready herself.”

“I… do…” you say, playing along, trying to keep a cap on your distress for your daughter's sake. “I-I gotta pack a few more things baby,” you say, giving her a kiss on her forehead, hoping she misses the tears in your eyes. “I’ll b-be right back.” you manage to stutter out.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” his voice so saccharine sweet it makes our teeth ache. “We’ll be right here.”

As you turn around you feel a hard smack on your ass, and you fully stop, burning in humiliation that he would treat you like that, especially in front of your daughter.

The humiliation only further ramps up as you walk up the stairs, and you can feel the slick already gathering between your thighs. Less out of titillation you believe and more out of a defense mechanism, knowing what will more than likely happen the second he's able to get you alone.

Or is it?

It doesn’t feel real as you step into the upstairs apartment, you see Gina at the stove and Sue filling out a crossword puzzle, her glasses threatening to fall off her nose, none of which suggests they have any idea of what’s going on downstairs. You’re almost angry about that, like it would’ve been easier to walk away from them if they had also been in on it as well.

“Where’s Rosie so eager to rush off to?” Sue asks idly, not looking up from the paper.

“Oh ummm…” you say, trying to think on your feet for a decent enough lie. “ Sh-she’s going to a sleepover with-with Jenny.”

You’re usually a better liar than this, but him being so close again has you all out of sorts tonight. Not to mention your mind is running rampant with all the worst case scenarios possible at the moment with the most egregious being that he’s gonna take her and run, forcing you to chase him down the same way he’s undoubtedly done for you these past few years. You’re practically feeling every second tick by, fearing the longer you take the greater the chances will be that they’re both gone.

Is that how he felt when he was away from you? A small voice in your head asks. It’s an awful roiling feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if the person you loved most wasn’t where you left them. Would he be so cruel to do that to you?

“Did that fella Jenny setchu up with ever show up?” Gina asks, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Ye-yeah and… and I’m gonna get dinner with him,” you swallow, the lie tasting like bile in your mouth. As you turn to your room, already mentally mapping where the important documents were in your bedroom, preparing to pack a few outfits for Rosie, and whatever other odds and ends you would need.

Your answer catches Gina off guard, and Sue immediately looks up from the paper sharing a look with your other Aunt. “Ain’t that a little fast, Hon?”

“Maybe…” you say, hesitating as you try to hold back your tears.

“Ya don’t gotta go if you ain’t ready for it,” Sue says behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder, that you flinch away from. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong If it’s still a little too early for you.”

That’s the worst part about it. You know they would fight tooth and nail for both you and Rosie if you just asked. But you know the type of mess Elvis can and will bring into this house should you decide to fight him on this. After all they’ve done for you, keeping them out of the type of spectacle he brings is the least you can do.

“I have to go,” you say sternly.

One look at your squared back shoulders and your far away look they know there’s no stopping this. You hold back your tears as you accept their hug and accept their well wishes. You say your goodbyes promising to be back soon, unsure if you will ever see them again, and you put on your biggest fakest smile as you let go of them, wanting to at least leave them with one happy memory.

Relief floods your entire being seeing her at the bottom of the steps, only for the dread to return seeing him there with her. Especially when you hear the story he’s telling her. You don’t miss the glance he steals your way before focusing on your daughter once again. “I thought to myself, ‘thas the girl whose gonna be mine.’”

“Like-like love at first sight,” Rosie asks, and you can practically hear the stars in her eyes.

“Exactly yittle,” he drawls out. “Took her awhile to figure it out though but she learned eventually. Now we’re all gonna go home.” His eyes slide right off her and cut directly to you. Her eyes follow him and she quickly scurries off of him to reach you.

“You ready Mama?” she asks you as she takes you by the hand leading you to the door where you see a car parked right out front. It may as well have been a hearse in your mind.

You pick her up and you look down the darkened streets and you briefly flirt with the idea of just sprinting and never looking back. But the hand on your elbow guiding you to the car puts a halt to those thoughts.

You still don’t know how much of your story he does actually believe, so you sit yourself down in the car without so much as a fuss and resolve yourself to your fate. Though that doesn’t stop you from seating yourself in the middle and placing Rosie by the window, as you still aren’t totally out of the mindset of keeping her as far away from him as possible. Neither of them seem to mind as she eagerly presses tiny hands up to the glass in awe of the nightlife of New Orleans, while he slithers an arm over your shoulder bringing you closer to him.

As you contemplate what your life will look like from now on, you pass by so many places you’ve become familiar with these last four years, but what nearly breaks you are the unfamiliar places. Record stores, movie theaters, restaurants, and so many other places you avoided all due to an irrational belief that he would somehow be there. You did your best to limit your time in the outside world to only when you absolutely had to be out.

Maybe that’s why you were so willing to trust Jenny and her altruistic generosity to watch over your daughter and take her places you were too anxious to venture to.

You caged yourself into your new seemingly better life, but you didn't live at all. You were hiding. Always so afraid that he would somehow find you, you neglected to live. You put yourself in a different cage and convinced yourself you were free.

“Mama? Mama, why are you crying?” your sweet little girl asks.

But you’re gonna do what you’ve always done for your daughter. What you’ve always done when it comes to Elvis. You’re going to play pretend.

“Mama’s just so happy we’re going baby,” you say with a solemn kiss to her forehead as his grip further tightens on your shoulder.

“I know what’ll cheer you up!” she declares and completely unaware of the salt she’s about to pour on your wounds, she pulls something out of her little rucksack. “Danny, do you know the story of ‘Punzel?”

“Can’t say that I do darlin’” he says, eyeing you over her head. She sets the Grimm fairy tale book down on her lap and opens it to the worn pages she’s seemed to memorize by heart. She proceeds to read to the both of you, in the sense that she recites the story she’s heard maybe half-a-million times before word-for-word, going off pictures more than the actual words on the page to know where she’s at in the story. You try your best to focus on the book for your daughter's sake, but it’s nearly impossible to do when you feel Elvis' familiar bruising grip on your inner thigh.

You shoot him a look and grab a hold of his wandering hand, trying to signal for him to stop and pay attention to Rosie. He gives a mirthful smile to you as he feels the slick there and seemingly tightens his grip in retribution, as though he wants to get a head start on re-establishing his claim over you. You in response bite your cheek and bear it, until at one point it nearly becomes too much and one lone tear rolls down your cheek and onto the page of the prince wandering blindly through the forest.

Your daughter is far too sweet for her own good, as she notices this and gives you a gentle pat on your cheek, trying to comfort you the same you’ve done for her before.

“Don’t worry Mama,” she reassures you, mirroring what you’ve done for her when a story gets her a little too worked up. “They always live happy ever after.”

You give a shuddering sigh as Elvis finally let’s go of your thigh. You clutch onto that little porcelain figure in your pocket and hope she’s right.

You make it to Memphis in record time, Rosie having long since tired herself out, is wrapped securely in your arms, but you’ll find no suh peace with his arm coiled around your shoulder as he sadistically whispers how Rosie’ll have a blast meeting the rest of his family while the two of you get “reacquainted,” of course he used more colorful language but you don’t want to have to think about that for right now.

When the familiar gates come into view

“Ahh, my baby missed home that bad,” he whispers, giving a deceptively sweet kiss to your tear-stricken cheek. “Why don’tcha hand the ‘lil one over to me and you just head up to bed and get ready for me?”

Despite the questioning lilt in his tone you know for a fact he’s not asking. And so going against all of your instincts screaming in your head, you let go of your daughter and watch as he takes a hold of her. To your relief she’s at the very least on the same floor as you, but you can only hope that she, at the very least, will sleep through the rest of the night, because you doubt he’ll let you out even a minute sooner than he has to.

The bedroom has changed in many ways since you’ve been gone, though the most striking thing was how your side of the bed looks as though it were converted into a little shrine for you. Small baubles and trinkets you left behind on the stand, you even find an old nightgown of yours on your side of the bed, the last thing he ever saw you in. It doesn’t fit you like it used to, having and breastfeeding a baby will do that to you, but you put it on all the same knowing he will want to see you in it.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, seeing your breasts straining against the silk material and the bruises peeking out beneath the scandalously short hemline, it really does settle in that this was all inevitable. This is the very same image you saw the night before he left for Germany.

The same image that confirmed your decision to leave in the first place.

This moment, feels like the dread you always felt when getting to the last few pages of a book. As things were wrapping up and you would have to face the harsh reality of your situation...

You’re back in the fucking hotel room.

You won’t even have the luxury of daydreaming of your escape, because there is no world where you leave without Rosie, and he knows that. He knows she’s the reason you ran, and knows that without her you’re never gonna run again. That’s why he went to the lengths he did to endear himself to her first before you ever had an inkling as to what was going on.

Your thoughts turn to Jenny, and how you entrusted what you loved the most to her, only to have her spit in your face by turning around practically handing her over to him on a platter. Either she knew that he was her father and didn’t bother to question why you were so desperate to get away that you faked a whole other life, or she didn’t and handed over your daughter to a stranger. You don’t know which is worse.

You also can’t forget how she was perhaps the most vehement about you dating again, which you can’t even begin to understand if she was working for him the whole time. But you can’t put it above him that he wouldn’t have Jenny push the issue if only to further twist the knife if you ever did take up her offer. As though to remind you that you never had a chance of moving on.

Because it always goes back to him.

You want to hide from it all and you give into the urge, and crawl under the silky sheets of the bed, for all the good it will do to protect you.

Monsters don’t hide under your bed. They crawl into it. Those are your last conscious thoughts as you feel the bed shift

“Welcome home Satnin,” he whispers before you feel the sheets being ripped away from you.

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@venus-haze @djsjs13949 @ilovehobi101 @butlerslut @richardslady121 @giabelia @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051 @myradiaz @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale

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goodgirlfaith1 · 10 months

Text

Gimme a Kiss

Pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: Due to your best friend Emily staying with you for the night, it’s the first night you and your boyfriend Austin Butler are spending apart since you moved in together six months ago. But neither of you can fall asleep without being beside each other. Austin calls you drunk from his best friend’s house - where he’s supposed to be staying for the night - and shows up at your shared penthouse.

Warnings: SMUT. Unprotected sex, fingering, pressing down on stomach during sex, intoxication, swearing, pet names, praise kink, hair pulling kink.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/n: Hi! You might know me from Wattpad, where I have posted a series of Austin Butler/Elvis Presley imagines. This is a rewritten version of the original ‘Gimme a Kiss’ imagine which I published on Wattpad six months ago. I’m aiming to rewrite all of these imagines and post them on here, as I feel my writing has improved since I first started writing these.

Please let me know if you have any new requests and I’ll give them a go!

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You lay on your side, your gaze fixed on the alarm clock on your nightstand. You feel like you're going square-eyed as you continue to stare at the clock, which now reads 3a.m. You've been desperately trying to fall asleep for the past two hours, but if your best friend Emily's snoring wasn't enough to keep you awake, the lack of your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you certainly was. This is the first night you and Austin have ever spent apart since you moved in together six months ago. Even though Austin has been busy filming Elvis, his upcoming movie, for the past few months, he's come home to you every single night.

Austin is spending the night at his best friend's apartment tonight to give you some quality time with Emily. You don't get to see her very often because she lives in Los Angeles, and you and Austin live in New York. You two had a girls night in watching Breakfast at Tiffany's, drinking white wine and doing face masks. You've enjoyed your night and being able to spend time with your best friend, but you can't seem to get Austin out of your head. You miss him so much it hurts, even though you saw him this morning. It doesn't matter, you still miss him more than ever - especially now that you've discovered you can't fall asleep without him beside you.

You turn your back to the alarm clock, feeling extremely jealous of Emily, who is sound asleep beside you. You close your eyes, trying to rid of your thoughts of Austin. But as your head sinks further into the pillow, you find yourself wishing your head was resting on Austin's chest instead. You sigh dramatically, deciding to give up on trying to sleep. You put your hand under your pillow and grab your phone, clicking on the screen to turn on the flashlight as you stand up from the bed. You tip toe your way out of the bedroom, being careful not to wake your sleeping best friend.

You make your way into the living room, which is in almost complete darkness. The only light filling the room comes from the moon, and the thousands of lights across the city which flood into the room through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The second you sit down on the huge, black leather corner couch, you feel your phone vibrate in your hand. A text notification from Austin appears on the screen.

Aus<3: Baby are yiu awske

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but the realisation soon hits. Austin only ever misspells a text message when he's drunk.

You: Huh

You: Are you drunk Aus?

The second you hit send, the word read appears underneath your text message. A call from Austin soon appears on the screen and you smile as you press the green answer button. "Hello?" You hold the phone to your ear.

"Baby," Austin says through the phone, his voice slightly deeper than usual. A sense of relief washes over you at the sound of his voice, and you smile, feeling an immediate sense of comfort.

"Hi," you say softly, sounding like a giddy teenager talking to their crush.

"Why're you up so late? Are you okay?" Concern is laced in Austin's voice. He knows it's not like you to be awake this late.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You're a terrible liar, sweet girl."

You roll your eyes. How does he always manage to read me so well? You wonder.

"Tell me what's wrong, baby," he says softly.

"I can't sleep without you," you sigh.

"Mm," Austin hums. You're not entirely sure why, but the sound sends butterflies erupting indoor stomach. "Me neither, sweetheart. But, you know, I can help with that," he says, and you sense a hint of mischief in his tone.

You're startled when you hear a knock on your apartment door. _Are you hearing things, or did someone really just knock on your door at 3 o'clock in the morning?

You sit up straight, feeling your palm sweating as you hold your phone to your ear. "Aus?"

"What's wrong, baby?" Austin senses the worry in your tone.

"Someone's at the door."

"Answer it," Austin says, slurring his words slightly.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. "You want me to answer the door?" you repeat, not entirely sure you heard him right. Why would your over-protective boyfriend ever want you to answer the door to someone - alone - at 3a.m. It must be the alcohol.

"Mhm."

Why is he being so relaxed about this?

"Aus, it's 3am. What if it's a serial killer or something?" You walk into the kitchen to grab a knife. You're not completely sure what you'll do with it if you actually need to use it. You're sure you'd freeze and go into panic mode, but having the knife somehow brings you some sort of comfort.

"Just answer it, baby. Trust me."

You take a deep breath in, clutching the knife tightly in your clammy hand as you walk through the living room, heading towards the front door. "Aus, I'm scared," you whisper into the phone as you near the door.

"Don't be scared, baby. I'm right here," he says reassuringly. You take a deep breath, your sweaty grip around the knife tightening as you twist the door handle, holding the knife up as you pull the door open to reveal...

You breathe out a sigh in relief when you're met with your boyfriend on the other side of the door. Austin stands there, gazing down at you with a boyish smirk on his face. A strand of black hair hangs over his forehead as he hangs up the phone call and puts his phone into the pocket of his jeans. The first few buttons of his black shirt are left unbuttoned, showing off his defined, sun-kissed chest as he leans against the door frame. "I hope you're not planning on usin' that knife on me now, sweetheart," he says with a smile. You don't miss the Southern accent which very subtly creeps into his words - a result of his role as Elvis Presley.

You shake your head, fighting off the smile pulling on your lips as Austin pulls the knife out of your hand. "You asshole!" You scold him, but he just gazes down at you with stars in his eyes, a soft smile pulling on his lips. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry, baby." Austin steps into the apartment, setting the knife down on the table with your keys on it. He keeps his gaze trained on yours as he takes your phone from your hand and sets it down next to the knife, a smile pulling on his lips. He wraps his free hand around your jaw to pull your head slightly closer towards his, leaning down to kiss you.

But when you feel how cold his hand is against your cheek, you pull your head back before your lips can meet his. "Jesus," you take his hand off your face, holding it with both of your hands in attempt to warm it up a little. "You're freezing, baby." You intertwine your fingers with his and lead him further into the apartment, shutting the door behind you.

"I like that," Austin says softly from behind you as you lead him into the living room.

"Like what?" you lead him towards the couch. You figure you'll get him to lay down on the couch with a blanket while you make him a hot chocolate to warm him up. But before you can do that, Austin plops himself down on the couch and pulls you down on top of him so you're straddling him.

"When you call me baby," he smirks. He places his free hand on your lower back as he leans back against the couch, his other hand resting on your upper thigh. His thumb draws gently back and forth over the skin of your thigh, which has become accessible thanks to Austin's T-shirt you're wearing, which has ridden up your legs. You're not sure if it's the moonlight or the city lights casting a soft light over Austin's face as he gazes up at you, in awe of your beauty. Whatever the source of light is, it captures his face perfectly, illuminating his bright blue eyes, which are a complete contrast with his dark hair. You're still getting used to the black hair.

You lean your head slightly closer towards his as you gently toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, "mm, do you?"

"Mhm," he hums lowly, your faces only inches apart. "Very much." You can smell liquor on his breath.

"So you are drunk," you confirm, smiling softly.

A boyish smile pulls on Austin's lips. "Just a little bit."

You smile, breathing out a laugh through your nose. "Come on, you should get some sleep. We'll sleep in the guest bedroom."

"Oh, no you don't," Austin says when you place your hands on his shoulders to push yourself off him. His hands quickly find your waist and he holds you down on his lap to stop you from standing up. He gazes up at you with a glimmer in his eye, and his gaze falls down to your lips. He doesn't say anything, he just gazes up at you like you're the most extraordinary thing he's ever laid his eyes upon.

"What?" A smile pulls on your lips. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"'Cause you're beautiful." You smile softly, feeling giddy. "Gimme a kiss," Austin wraps his fingers around your jaw and pulls your head down towards his. This time, you don't pull away, and your lips mould together in a gentle, loving kiss. You let out a breath through your nose, feeling a sense of relief washing over you at the feeling of Austin's soft lips against yours, his large hand keeping hold of your jaw. You place your hands on his firm shoulders, feeling his muscles beneath your fingertips as he smiles against your lips.

"What're you smiling at?" you ask against his lips.

"Just missed you," he says softly, a smile pulling on his lips as his eyes wander over your face. He pulls your head towards his with his grip around your jaw, your lips meeting again.

"I missed you too, baby," you whisper in between kisses. Austin's smile grows wider, and your teeth almost clash as you both smile like idiots into the kiss. Your lips mould together like they were made for one another, and a kiss that began sweet and gentle soon turns urgent when Austin tilts his head back, deepening the kiss. You meet his pace, getting lost in the feeling of his lips. You soon feel Austin's tongue on your bottom lip, and without a thought about where it might lead, you open your mouth for him.

You taste whiskey on Austin's tongue as his moves with yours in a deep, passionate kiss which turns more sensual with every second that passes. You don't realise just how lost in his kisses you are until you shift your hips ever so slightly, feeling how hard he is beneath you. Austin moans into the kiss, and you swallow the sound, smiling against his lips.

"Alright," it takes everything in you to pull back, tearing your lips from Austin's, but you figure you should quit while you're ahead. His expression drops as he gazes up at you with parted lips, his eyes flicking between yours rapidly. "You're drunk, baby, let's just go to sleep." You place your hand on Austin's shoulders in attempt to stand up, but once again, his tight grip around your waist stops you from doing so.

Austin swallows hard, his throat bobbing as he gazes up at you like a lost puppy. "Please, baby," he begs, blue eyes flicking between yours. "I'll make you feel good." He pecks your lips. "So good, I promise." He pecks your lips _again, _looking up at you desperately. "Need you so bad," he whispers against your lips before he closes any space left in between his mouth and yours. This time, his kiss lingers, and you don't pull away. You can't resist him.

Austin's hands run up your thighs, and he tugs on your T-shirt - well, his T-shirt, which you've practically claimed as yours. "Off," he says desperately against your lips, neediness evident in his tone. "I need this off." He breaks the kiss to pull the T-shirt over your head, leaving you in only your underwear. He tosses the T-shirt onto the floor and crashes his lips against yours in an urgent kiss. Your hands snake around the back of his neck as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter for him with every second that passes.

Feeling yourself aching for him, you pull Austin's head back with your fingers in his hair to deepen the kiss. He smiles against your lips at your eagerness as his large hands roam your body. They run from your breasts - which he caresses - before you feel his fingertips run down your back, then onto your thighs, nearing higher and higher until they reach your ass. He gives your ass a squeeze and you grind against his erection in response, causing him to groan into the kiss. The sound sends butterflies erupting in your stomach, and your need to feel him only intensifies.

Without breaking the kiss, you rip open Austin's shirt, your tongue moving with his, urgently, as you hear the buttons of his shirt fall from the couch and onto the wooden floor. Austin slips a finger beneath the waist band of your underwear and pulls hard, causing the fabric to rip, leaving you completely naked on top of him. Usually, you would cuss him out for tearing your underwear, but you're too needy for him right now to care.

A small stinging sensation lingers on the skin of your hip, but your attention is drawn back to Austin when his finger makes contact with your soaked folds. You take a sharp breath in through your nose, doing your best to kiss him back as he works his finger up and down your folds. "So wet for me, baby," Austin breathes against your lips.

"All for you," you whisper.

A lazy smile pulls on Austin's lips as he gazes up at you through heavy breaths, your faces close together. You shudder when his finger brushes over your clit, your lips parting.

Austin gazes up at you through lust filled eyes. "All for me," he repeats, crashing his lips against yours. He pushes a finger into your core and you breathe out a moan into the kiss. You lean forward and Austin tilts his head back to accommodate this as you deepen the kiss. You breathe heavily against Austin's lips as he pumps his finger in and out of your core. And while the feeling of Austin's finger inside of you is nothing short of pleasurable, you find yourself yearning for more.

Austin reads your body like he always does, adding another finger into your core. You grind your hips against him, pushing his fingers further inside you. You moan into the kiss, struggling to meet the pace of his kisses as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them in a 'come here' motion which nearly sends you over the edge already.

"Fuck, baby," Austin breathes against your lips. "Got me soaked to the knuckle."

You breathe heavily, and you break the kiss when your jaw goes slack."Fuck, Austin," you breathe out in a moan.

"Fuckin' love it when you say my name, baby." He gazes up at you, studying your features as pleasure graces them. "Say it again." He orders.

"Austin," you whine through heavy breaths.

"Again."

"Austin," you breathe out, your nails digging into the skin on the back of his neck. Suddenly, Austin pulls his fingers out of your core, causing your eyebrows to knit together. "Why'd you stop?"

Austin's fingers fumble to unbuckle his belt. "I need you," he lifts his hips off the couch to pull his jeans down. "Need you_ now."_ Austin crashes his lips into yours, his tongue dominating yours. You meet his pace, your tongue moving with his, and he whimpers into your mouth as you take hold of his rock hard length, and line it up with your entrance. Without breaking the kiss, you slowly lower yourself down onto Austin's length, taking a sharp breath in through your nose at the way he stretches you out. You swear you'll never get used to his size.

You both let out a sigh of relief as your hips meet Austin's, and you cry out, feeling how deep he is. The feeling sends a shiver up your spine. You feel Austin's fingertips digging into the skin of your waist, and the sensation only turns you on even more. A part of you hopes he'll leave marks behind. You drop your forehead against Austin's, the sound of both of your breathing filling the dark room. Slowly, you draw your hips backward before rolling them forward, soon feeling Austin's large hands on your hips to help adopt a rhythm.

"Fuck, baby," Austin breathes out. You can feel his heavy breaths fanning over your face, your foreheads pressed together. "Feels so good. Always so good for me. " He crashes his lips against yours as you ride him, and you moan into the kiss. "You're fuckin' perfect, you know that?" he breathes against your lips.

"Aus," you cry out breathlessly. "Baby, fuck." You throw your head back, your lips parted. "You're so deep."

"Yeah?" You turn your gaze down to meet Austin's at the sound of his voice. He gazes up at you, the moonlight hitting off his blue eyes. The strand of hair hanging over his forehead casts a small shadow over his face. He breathes heavily through his mouth as he looks up at you. He places his hand on your lower stomach and presses down, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat. "Can you feel it, baby?" He takes hold of your hand from the back of his neck and places it on your lower stomach, the spot where his hand was pressed down a few seconds ago. He presses his hand on top of yours, intensifying the feeling of him inside of you. "Feel me here, deep in your tummy? Takin' up all that room?"

Your free hand snakes up from the back of Austin's neck to the back of his head, and your fingers find themselves in his air, pulling on it as you continue to ride him. The pleasure coursing through your body is almost enough to push you over the edge already.

"Austin," you moan his name in pleasure. "Feels so good."

"I know, baby," he says from beneath you, studying your face as your eyes fall closed, your jaw going slack. "That's it, sweetheart." He encourages you as you roll your hips forward with a little more force. "Taking me so well."

You feel Austin intertwining his fingers with yours, removing yours, and his hand from your lower stomach. You open your eyes to meet his gaze as he leads your hand to the back of his head. You know what he wants without him having to say it. Now using both hands, you pull on Austin's hair, studying his face as a deep, guttural groan escapes from the back of his throat. His head falls back against the couch and he gazes up at you through clouded eyes as he breathes heavily through parted lips, some breaths coming out sounding more like moans. You love seeing him like this.

"You're an angel, sweet girl. You're heaven fuckin' sent, I swear it," Austin breathes out.

Your fingers remain threaded in his hair, tugging gently as you lean down to connect your lips with his in a sloppy, needy kiss. You can feel your orgasm building deep in your stomach, and you know you won't be able to last much longer.

"Aus," you drop your forehead against his.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I'm not gonna last much longer."

Next thing you know, Austin takes hold of your hips and flips you over so you're laying down on your back, him on top of you. He holds his weight with his forearms on the couch at either side of your head, thrusting his hips forward into you. You breathe out a moan as his hips meet yours, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, your other squeezing his bicep as you feel your orgasm approaching fast.

"I want you to cum for me, baby," he breathes out as he thrusts into you, each thrust becoming a little harder than the last.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm begins to wash over you, and you cry out Austin's name as you let it all go. Austin's hand quickly snaps over your mouth at the loud volume of your voice, and you moan into the palm of his hand, feeling pure euphoria.

"Shhh," he coos."That's it, baby. Such a good girl for me."

You feel Austin's thrusts becoming sloppier and his orgasm soon hits him at the feeling of you clenching around him. He breathes heavily, dropping his head against your shoulder as he rides you both through your highs. Your fingers release their tight grip around his locks as he moans against the skin of your shoulder, but you keep a hand on the back of his head, holding him close as he cries out for you.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes out. "So fuckin' good. You're always so good for me." You both breathe heavily as you come down from your highs, and as he stills inside of you, Austin's arms give out. You don't mind his weight on top of you, though. You've always found it comforting. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, pressing a gentle kiss onto your skin.

Austin's breathing slowly, but surely becomes less heavy as he lays on top of you. "I love you so much, darling."

You softly run your fingers through his hair, pressing a kid onto the top of his head, smiling softly. "I love you too, baby."

"I hope Emily didn't hear any of that," he says, and your eyes widen.

"Shit!"

Thanks for reading<3 If you have any requests, please let me know!

#austin butler #austin elvis imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fluff #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine #smut #smut and fluff #smutty fanfiction #elvis 2022

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youaintnothinbuta · 18 days

Text

“I can't tell you how long l've been waiting for you to get home” — Austin Butler x reader

Summary: So relieved to have you home from a Christmas dinner you had with your friends, Austin greets you the moment you walk through the door, leading you to your bedroom promptly to have sex.

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem!reader

Word count: 1,700

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), mature language, typos I’m sorry

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Exhausted from the festive celebration, you released a heavy sigh, allowing the weight of the evening to fall off your shoulders. Unzipping your boots, you kicked them off, by the pile of other shoes. Your fingers carefully navigated the buttons of your coat, guiding it down your arms until it gracefully surrendered onto the coat rack by the front door, finding its place among others. The lingering warmth of the just-concluded Christmas dinner with your girlfriends still had your mind buzzing. The room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow on the holiday decorations that adorned the walls.

Austin’s footsteps, followed by his voice, warm and eager, enveloped you. “Hi, baby, how was it?”

A genuine smile played on your lips, “Really good, it was so nice finally getting to see everyone all in one place. There’s still some bags in the car that I have—“

Interrupting your attempt to mention anything, Austin’s hand gently enveloped yours, halting your movement.

“Leave it,” he spoke softly.

With a decisive click, and your hand still in his grasp, Austin locked the front door, sealing off the outside world and leaving only the comforting hush of your home. He guided you with a gentle tug, his fingers intertwined with yours, leading the way upstairs. The subtle creak of the staircase beneath your steps and the gentle crackling of the fireplace reflected the coziness of this time of year.

Ascending the stairs, the soft glow of fairy lights tangled in garland adorned the banister, casting a warm and intimate ambiance.

“Come on, baby.” he smiled, his eyes gleaming with affection. The anticipation of a private moment together filled the air as you approached your shared bedroom, the door slightly ajar.

The dim light of bedside lamps illuminated the space, revealing the soft textures of cozy blankets and scattered Christmas cards along your dressers and bedside tables. Austin gently guided you in the direction of the bed. You sat down on the edge, watching him as he watched you.

He moved closer, his eyes holding yours in a gaze that was both tender and intense. His hands reached out to caress your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm. “I can't tell you how long l've been waiting for you to get home,” he whispered, his voice low with desire.

You could feel the heat of his body as he moved closer, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both passionate and tender. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

His tongue darted out to taste your lips, and you parted them slightly, inviting him in. You could feel his desire for you growing with each passing moment, and you responded in kind.

Your hands moved to his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your palm as his kiss became more urgent. His hands moved to your back, pulling you closer still as his tongue explored yours, you moaned softly as he deepened the kiss.

His fingertips reached around your waist, gripping you tightly, he pulled you closer as he ground his hips against yours. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, sending a shiver of desire through your body.

“I need to feel you, to taste you.” he whispered against your lips, his breathing hot and heavy. You nodded, unable to speak as the desire coursed through your veins. He kissed down your neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin before moving lower. His hands found the hem of your dress, pulling it up and over your shoulders, dropping it on the floor beside the bed.

He almost choked, his eyes shutting in disbelief and in awe as his body reacted to the sight of you wearing literally nothing. “You didn't-, fuck,” he breathed, his hand reaching for your thighs.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you replied, smiling at him. He pulled you closer, his lips meeting yours again as his hands roamed over your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, the swell of your breasts, the smooth skin of your thighs.

You pulled at Austin’s shirt, he took the hint, taking it off, before bringing his lips to the skin of your collarbones. Leaving a wet trail of kisses over your skin, he moved lower, his lips making their way to your tit.

His tongue flicked across the hard nipple, making you gasp in pleasure. His other hand moved to your other breast, squeezing it gently as his tongue continued its exploration.

His lips sucked on your nipple, his teeth grazing it lightly, making you moan. His hand moved down to your thighs, pulling them apart so he could slide a finger inside you. You arched your back as he slid his finger in and out of you, his thumb rubbing against your clit.

His tongue moved down your stomach, his finger still moving in and out of you.

When he reached your pussy, his tongue flicked against your clit as he continued to fuck you with his finger. You moaned loudly as he sucked on your clit, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you.

He slid another finger into you, stretching you open. You arched your back, your hands grabbing onto his hair as he continued to eat you out. Taking a moments break to breathe, he looked up at you, his fingers still working in and out of you, "don't be shy now.”

He brought his lips back to your clit, sucking gently, the way he knew you liked. You whimpered, wanting him to make you come. He knew what you needed, and he gave it to you. He increased the speed of his tongue, his fingers fucking you harder.

You felt that knot in your stomach forming as he continued to draw circles with his tongue. Simultaneously, he began to curl his fingers inside of you, causing you to gasp as the feeling shifted.

“I'm going to come,” you said, trying to pull away from him. He held you in place and kept his fingers moving inside of you.

“Austin!” You cried. You could feel the pressure building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With a loud cry, your hips thighs clamped around his head as tightly as they could, him still trying to pump his fingers in and out of you, as a gush of liquid spilled out onto his fingers and chin.

“Oh, god,” you winced as his tongue grazed over your sensitive clit.

“Oh, sweetheart, look at me,” he smiled, his lips swollen from sucking on you, your squirt dripping down his chin and neck, “look at how good you did.”

The bed had been covered in your juices, your body still twitching with aftershocks. Austin smiled up at you, slowly he removed his fingers from you, bringing them to his pants button. Deftly, he stripped himself of his trousers and was crawling over you. “Gonna give me another one, aren't you, baby?” He asked, kissing your forehead as he pressed his tip against your entrance.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “That's my girl.”

He grinned, pressing into you. You moaned, your eyes rolling back as he filled you up. You breathed out as he began to move inside of you.

You could feel him throbbing, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck. “You feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

You whined quietly in response, into his ear, knowing it drove him wild. He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and more forceful. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer to you. He grunted, his hands tightening on your hips as he slammed into you.

You could feel the tension building in your body, and you knew you were close to coming. "Please," you begged, "please don't stop." He groaned, his own orgasm approaching. "'m going to come," he warned, his voice hoarse with propensity.

"Sweetheart, I'm so close, I need you to come for me." he begged, trying to hold back his own release. he brought his thumb to your clit, gently drawing circles as he continued to thrust. maintaining eye contact with you, he let a sequence of frantic moans fall from his mouth, knowing the sound of his voice was always helpful in bringing you to orgasm. As if on cue, your thighs began to tremble, he felt this, and responded by making his moans louder, yours too, filling the room

with the sounds of pure pleasure.

“Austin,” you cried his name, your way of telling him you were about to come. “Yeah, baby, l've got you, come for me.”

You reached up, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him down on top of you, panting and whining as you came. All these sounds coming from you, and the way your pussy clenched around his cock sent him over the edge, and he spilled out into you with a carried out groan.

He collapsed on top of you, periodically thrusting shallow pumps into you, emptying the last of his load. His body was heavy on you, but you didn't mind. You just held him close to you as he caught his breath.

Eventually, he pulled out of you and rolled off to the side, pulling your body into a cuddle, then dragging the covers over both of you. He placed his hand on your thigh, which was still trembling, making you laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked, smiling at you, his voice hoarse.

“Nothing, I'm just happy.” You told him, leaning up to kiss him.

“Me too.” He replied, kissing you back.

You both lay there, basking in the afterglow of your sex. He stroked your thighs and hips, tracing his fingers over the curve of your ass.

“You're perfect, you know.” He spoke with a genuine smile. “You are.” You replied. He wrapped his hand around your upper arm and pulled your body on top of his, letting you lay your head on his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, “thank you, baby.”

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cowboylor · 2 years

Text

baby honey

pairing: austin butler x fem!reader (reader uses she/her pronouns)

wc: 1.4k

warnings: smut, pwp, slight dom/sub dynamics but nothing extreme, oral (female receiving), teasing, manhandling, bad dirty talk, allusions to breeding kink, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader was written as plus size but really you can interpret however you please, austin calling reader honey is pure self-indulgence sorry

“Did you miss me?”

The question goes unanswered as you struggle to unbutton his shirt, cursing under your breath when the third button down refuses to cooperate with your shaking fingertips. Austin can’t help but grin at your blatant urgency to get him out of his clothes and through your bedroom door.

When you finally get to the last button, you feel his hands reaching to cup your face, forcing you to look away from the task at hand. You feel warm all over when you take a moment to look into his eyes. And God, they’re so blue. Were they always this blue?

“Honey,” He speaks in a low-tone, in an endearing way that shoots right to your lower belly. “I asked, did you miss me?”

His stare, if you didn’t know better, almost looked intimidating. Austin peered down at you expectantly with those damn eyes. His hands were still holding you upright, warming your cheeks.

You nod, dumbly. “Of course, I did! Hence the ripping-off-your-clothes.”

Austin chuckles, removing his hands to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. He leans towards the shell of your ear, pressing a kiss there before murmuring, “I missed you too.”

Humming into the embrace, you relax your hands from the material of his button-down. He was home. You truly couldn’t believe it. He was finally all yours again.

“And when I saw you in this little number,” He tugs on the fabric of your sundress that tightened around your waist, before leaning over to whisper in your ear: “I wanted to bend you over and fuck you right there. Even with everyone watching.”

You’re too far gone to be embarrassed at his choice words. Whining, you inch your body closer to him until you were flushed against his chest. “Please, baby, take me to bed.”

He doesn’t waste anymore time, crouching down to throw you over his shoulder, to which you protested in a shrieking manner.

(You were slightly indifferent to the ways he would toss you in the bedroom. You were also slightly insecure about the idea that you would be too heavy for him to do so. Whenever he’d lift you off your feet and carry you to bed it made you stricken with fear. But when you mentioned this anxiety to Austin, he simply shook his head in disbelief: “You think I can’t manhandle my own girl?”)

When the back of your head hit the pillow, he was already bunching up the fabric of your sundress to your waist, gently pulling your legs apart before toying with the band of your panties. His breath wafted over you, making you tense at the subtle sensation, and moving to close your legs in hopes of the slightest friction. Austin didn’t give you the chance.

“But now,” He continued, prying your legs open, and propping one of your calves over his shoulder. “I think I want to taste you.”

You moan at the sight. Drinking in the way he gingerly presses a kiss to your calf, before trailing down your leg.

You couldn’t ever think clearly when he was between your thighs. Couldn’t formulate the sensual words your boyfriend probably wanted to hear when he was trailing gentle kisses up your inner thigh (over the bumps and all). All you can muster are high-pitched moans and shallow breaths in response to whatever you’re currently undergoing.

He hums at your breathy gasps, peering up at you through tufts of freefallen blonde hair. “You’re so pretty, honey.”

You scoff at his smug smile. “No teasing, Austin.”

“No?” He reaches your inner thigh. “Won’t even let me savor my meal?”

You desperately wish you could say something sexy back. Something that would make him shudder with the same intensity that he does to you. Maybe even something so witty and quick-witted that it would make him chuckle at your bratiness and then instantaneously flip you over on all fours to fuck your brains out. But, your body never allows you to do so when he’s so very close to your cunt.

You groan out. “Just… Need you.”

Dragging his fingertip up to your clit, you swear you’re going to collapse then and there. Austin pondered your honest words, humming as he circles your clit with the rough pad of his finger.

“Holy shit, please.”

“Yeah?” He pressed his lips against your slit in one swift motion. But he was gone again before you could properly cry out. “Need me so bad, honey?”

You nod, furiously, blindly reaching out to tug down roughly on his hair, guiding him back to you. “Can’t wait any longer. Need your mouth.”

Now, he may be a little shit sometimes, but he was always fair with you.

Before you could whine out and plead again, his tongue was lapping at your cunt. You just about shriek, instinctively moving away from the intense sensation, but before being able to do so, Austin wraps his arm around your left thigh, while keeping your right leg propped up over his shoulder.

A string of “holy shit” plays out as you grapple with the intensity of your built up need. You mewl at the sight of him wrapped over your thighs, reaching out to grab whatever you could (his sandy blonde strands fall victim to you).

“You’re sweet as honey, honey.”

His tongue is hot and wet against your cunt, as you arch your back and cry out as he nudges your clit with the tip of his nose. You make eye contact when his eyes peer up at you. There’s a glint of cockiness in his eye, knowing how quickly he can have you come undone with just his mouth.

Your heart is stuttering at the intensity of everything, and you can only throw your head back as Austin moans at the sight of you being unable to settle. He pulls away, briefly, leaving a string of saliva in his wake while he circles his thumb around your clit.

“That’s it, honey,” Austin groans out. “Gonna let me have it?”

“Yes!” Maybe that was rhetorical but you’re too far gone to care. “Please, baby. Need you to take all of it.”

He found it endearing, groaning into you at the sight of you dripping before him and the noises you made whenever he touched you in the slightest. You are so in tune for him, so bad for him it was unbelievable.

“Gonna let me fuck this sweet pussy after?” He continues to circle your clit, his pace grower harsher in the same way that he always amps up when you’re almost over the edge. You squirm, feeling your stomach coil tighter within every second. “Gonna let me fill you up good? Want me to fuck a baby into you? Would you like that, honey?”

And that’ll do it.

Austin didn’t stray away, dipping back down to return to his lapping motion, burying his face into your cunt. His right hand held your leg in place roughly, fingernails embedding into your skin to show that he was not keen on the possibility of letting you go any time soon.

You’re almost positive you feel every possible sensation at once. The coil inside you unravels so deeply, you’re not even sure if you’ll be able to come down from this one. You pull at his hair, almost yanking him away from your shaking thighs in an effort to come down from your high. For good measure, he presses another kiss to the inside of your calf before gently lowering your leg to rest on the comforter.

Austin crawls up the bed until he can cup your face and kiss your forehead, bringing you face to face with his glowy complexion. You spend a second regaining your breath, before burying yourself into his chest (which is only partially exposed due to the mishap of the third button).

“You kill me,” You say defeatedly, bringing your knees to your chest, testing out how sore and strained your inner thighs feel just from one act alone. He barks out a laugh, apologetically running hand over your stomach. “I’m running out of energy for you.”

He only hums at your words, pressing another kiss to your temple before muttering, “Take a moment, honey. Afterwards I want to unzip this dress and find out how flexible you are.”

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler smut #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #fanfiction #*my writing

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