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mamasturn · 1 year

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— is it a crime? | I.

pairing: austin butler inspired male oc x kat graham inspired fem oc (calisto and alcacia) summary: it’s been some time since calisto and alcacia have spoken. even with the distance between them and the ongoing heartache she felt at the hands of the man she loved, she can’t seem to let him go. warnings: toxic relationship. emotional manipulation. nsfw themes (no smut though). alcohol consumption.language. potential tag list (these people tend to interact the most. let me know if you want to be added/removed): @neeville @dulcewrites @crash-and-cure @cvpidspearl @blackwriter48 @wonderprince @venus2eros @adoreyouusugar @sunshinetoday1 @cosmic-parker @wacoshuffle @kaitaesupremacy

November was once her favorite month. The leaves were long off strong branches of mighty oak trees. They were found on the soles of her expensive fur-lined boots. The warm weather had chilled, and shorts and skirts were replaced by thick leggings and sweatpants. Iced coffee was replaced by hot teas and cocoas. Family gatherings increased. It was the beginning of the holiday season.

This time around, life was different. The tensions between families increased by the actions of one. The heart of a woman mimicked the battered one of a man. All parties suffered in the end.

Her naivety was her downfall, she came to realize after months of introspection and reflection. Her inability to detach was the weapon that beat her into submission until she could take it no longer. Until he lassoed her heart like a runaway animal and flung it against the wall with no mercy. She wondered where’d it gone.

What once was her favorite month became the one she dreaded the most. She had to pick herself off the floor in her darkened bathroom, scrub away the dirty behind the mask, and pick out another to wear to the occasion. Their families were to meet again for the first time in months. She did not look forward to it.

Her ragged nighttime attire was replaced by all black--a color she’d been fond of as of late. A black dress that stopped just below her knees with black stiletto heels to accompany it. Originally, she felt maybe a splash of color would keep her outfit from looking so dim, but she internally insisted a black trend coat over a red one would suffice.

She styled her hair differently. It no longer swept her shoulder blades with every turn of her head. No, it sat at her collarbone. A part on the right side and feathered bangs covered the darkness rims of her once bright eyes. Lipstick that was once a blush pink was darkened with red to make a maroon tint.

Her vehicle of choice was dark and discreet just as she’d come to be, yet it sped down the residential streets like a bat out of hell.

There was an uneasiness that settled within the pit of her stomach the closer she got to her destination. It felt like hatred, disgust, self-pity, and desire. A desire to not only burn the house to ashes, but to have the life she desired with the man whom it belonged to.

A loud beep came from her car once she slammed the driver’s door closed. One large breath after another, one foot after the previous, she walked toward the large doors of his home. The wooden trim around the door was familiar. A contrast to the darkness of the remaining.

She was greeted by the squeals and hugs of her family members and his alike; all clamoring about her distance from gatherings and her ignorance of phone calls and texts messages.

“I’ve just been handling some personal things,” she said with a tight-lipped smile and curt nod. All that witnessed were more than aware of the personal thing. And it became extremely evident when her breathing hastened once his presence entered the room.

She sat at the end of the table that would put her farthest from him. Physically, she couldn’t stand to be in his presence. Mentally and emotionally, she would die for the opportunity to be trapped beneath his body, chest against hers, just one more time.

It was foolish, she understood. To be so deeply wrapped up and entangled by the bounds of a man who didn’t want a thing to do with her. How unfortunate. She scoffed to herself and bit into a piece of broccoli.

The conversations around her revolved around new business ventures, partnerships with dealers in the area, vacations, and everything of the like. All things that could put Alcacia to sleep. She wasn’t one to talk about her business, either.

“Alcacia, how’s business?” His mother, Diane, spoke up after recognizing her silence. Her hazel eyes met the blue hues of Diane’s, and with a small chuckle insisted, ��All is well.” No one needed to know she was the highest earning connect in the city. It was something she’d keep to herself. Too much knowledge of one’s life was an opportunity for people to sneak in and plot to destroy it.

“And with overseas ventures?” His voice was different than she had known it to be. She’d heard it transition since childhood. From squeaky clean innocence to sensual seduction. Now, it was rough and rugged like worn leather. Warm like Tennessee Whisky. Alcacia’s jaw clenched and fingers gripped her wine glass. The deep hue of her nails was a contrast to the silver goblet. She wondered if it was easily breakable.

“Fine.” She took a large swig.

“Just fine?” He prodded.

“Just fine.” She repeated through gritted teeth. “If you’ll excuse me.” Alcacia knocked back the remainder of her beverage and started toward the bathroom. Her legs led her there without much thought. She’d remember no matter how hard she fought to forget.

The bathroom was the same. Dark in color but coated in class and luxury. The hand towels were a crisp gray and the walls looked to have been touched up since she’d been pressed against them the last time. A familiar scent of cherry blossom and vanilla. But it was soon overpowered by a husky smell that was engraved in her sensorial memory.

Through the mirror, she saw the cracked door. Behind it, a shadow moved. The door crept open and a body slid past. It was all too familiar. Trapped in a quaint hallway bathroom with a brooding presence suffocating her so good she couldn’t help but whimper at the memories that she fought ruthlessly to forget.

“Caci…”

“You do not get to call me that,” she said sharply. “You lost that privilege a long time ago.” She backed as far away as she could. Against the wall where the hand towels sat folded neatly against the sleek, black bar. Her hair was caught in the cotton fabric.

“I just needed a minute. You can leave.” Her gaze was on his black boots. They needed to be replaced, she thought. Scuffed along the sides and the soles were beginning to lower.

“I just--I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her eyes cut to his and her nostrils flared. The audacity. Had he wanted to make sure she was okay when he tossed her out of his home like hot garbage? When he embarrassed her the evening of the last family dinner? Or when she failed to appear for months at a time all because of his own actions.

Alcacia scoffed. “To hell with you, Calisto. You weren’t worried about me until I didn’t come crawling back to you like I did before. I wasn’t a topic of concern when you treated me like one of your whores, so why am I an area of concern now? You should be ashamed of yourself for the way you treated a woman who loves you.”

Loves. The present tense. It didn’t go through deaf ears. He understood the difference. Calisto took a step toward her. She took one backward. Her back was against the wall and her chest heaved. He couldn’t trap her like this again. She’d be a puddle at his feet.

The leather of his jacket creaked with the swing of his arm. His extended hand reached for her. He came close, fingertips grazing her wrist. Just as he’d done months before when he pinned her hands above her head and loved her into oblivion. Normally, she’d melt into his touch, and deep down, she wanted to. However, there was a principal he failed to understand--hurt people hurt people and it would take more than false niceties and puppy-dog eyes to repair the damaged that was caused by his own hand.

“I was wrong, and I’m sorry.” Sounded rehearsed, she thought to herself. Not remotely genuine or sincere. The young woman scoffed and dropped her hand. She pushed herself off the wall and straightened herself. Her shoulders pulled back and a force tilted her chin up.

“Don’t.” Alcacia commanded. Her voice was low and it shook, but she was serious. “You’ll have to do more than that to even think about ever repairing the damage you caused. Goodnight, Calisto.”

She’d be a fool to say she didn’t want to fall into his arms, forgive him of his trespasses, and allow him to suffocate her in love and adoration. But, if he’d fooled her like a joker once before, who was to say he wouldn’t do it again? Once before his actions showed how he dishonored her and treated her as a footstool, and if he wanted to prove himself worthy of her, it would take more than words to change her mind.

#mamasturn #poems and poetry #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x black!reader #is it a crime #calisto and alcacia #calisto x alcacia #kat graham

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