#Yandere Austin Butler | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-wishes · 13 days

Text

｡⸝❀Desert Rose ❀⸜｡

𐙚 Yandere! Paul Muad'Dib Atreides x Reader x Yandere! Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Plot: You miss the desert. Miss the sun and the sand and the place where they buried your heart. So you run and pray that they won't catch you.

⁀➷Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies blood and gore, bloodplay, knifeplay, injuries, Feyd being Feyd. Paul is high on spice for 60% of the story. Part two will be much more fluffy.

The thing they don't tell you about the desert is that it's alive. A breathing creature with feelings and a beating heart.~💜

There's blood on the Sietch floor, red and thick and sacrilegious.

You thought you had run far enough, fast enough. You thought you had escaped.

How terrifying it is to be betrayed by that which you love most. How terrifying it is when you've forgotten how to harmonize with that which love most.

That applies to the desert.

That applies to people too.

There's something about the sun that's never been more poetic. It's harsh in its lashes, a cruel master, reminding you of what you'd been born into. It beats down something terrible and you can't help but suppress the frantic giggle that escapes your dry lips."You're so mean" you mumble, the glimmers muddle your focus. You see silhouettes of blue-eyed warlords and tar-painted gladiators. Feel phantom kisses rummage across the hollow of your bones.

All of this is too familiar.

It makes you sick.

Back then your father had reveled in Muad'Dib's coming. Proud to meet a warrior such as he. He'd spent hours refining his war plans, polishing his battle tactics. It's always such a strange site to see excitement in such a strict man.

He introduced himself as destiny's child when he arrived. Dissolved and dehydrated with curls coated in sand. He was the desert's golden boy sent to fulfill every prophecy you'd ever been told.

And yet, to you, he'd simply looked like just another heartthrob.

Just another boy's name to whisper to your friends during blasphemous games under the starry night sky. He had been no different than any tribal leader or warrior's son. That was truly such a miraculous time, back when such an atrocious thing had been merely a girlhood toy.

Your father hadn't proposed marriage or alliances. That's not the Freman way, not during war. That doesn't stop the renegade gaze you've felt since he arrived. There's something stalking the desert, something too powerful to contain. You feel its chill, like the space between breaths before the breaching of the shai hulud.

"You can call me Paul..."

Lisan Al Gaib

The desert is a cacophony of dreams and nightmares. Deadly once the blood-deep navigation atrophies from constant complacency. You try to remember the prom of each foot. When to straighten, when to bend. Each step feels like treading through a mirage, murky and viscous. Too thick, too loose, you think you might sink. Fall through a false bottom into something great and endless.

There is no bottom, no end.

Only darkness, vast and perpetual.

You wonder if that's what it feels like to be swallowed by a sandworm. If there is security in its infinite stomach. If it's better than the Arrakeen Palace. Daunting, soulless structure, home to monsters and killers.

The sand grows thin.

It's always the thinnest nearest a Sietch.

You made it...

You wonder why it had all felt so gruesome, so unholy. Paul's cacoon of naivety was breached, its remnants nesting underneath his feet, their spines snapping with each ground-quaking step he took. Arrakis had given birth to something monstrous, something ravenous. Yet all you had seen was a youthful face that tells not of horrors or suffering. It only promises freedom.

Freedom was supposed to taste sweet, satisfying. The first sip from a childhood oasis. And you guess it had, for a little while. Before the realizations set in. Anyone who so openly grants freedom can take it away too.

Paul inhales the reverence of the crowd. Savors the saccharine taste of victory on his tongue, before he spits out the essence of his hatred. Watching the blood scorch away under the desert sun.

He swears he sees the sand dunes bow from the corner of his eye, they're towering magnificently bestowing something lethal onto him. Something they've yearned for, something fragile, something ancient. He deems it responsibility, duty, divinity and spins it into an enamelware crown.

Paul had become king. Not emperor, not sovereign, not overlord. Not yet at least. He's not the boy-prince from a distant planet anymore either. There no longer exists a boyhood carved of temperamental weathers and jagged salt-covered rocks. No more fairy tales of great dukes fighting bulls by the seaside and young princes running off on fighter jets to save mystical witches. There is only the sand and the giants underneath it, only a prophecy cracked whose ichor covers him in gold and stardust.

He is Muad'Dib, savoir of Dune.

Paul's eyes rummage through the crowd. Hungry, desperate

seeking out something, someone whose devotion does not show.

He memorizes the scowl on your face, the dip of your lips. How he longs to feel them under his thumb.

Duels concluded in death. When the ground has been fed its blood depts. When Jannah and Jahannam are granted another soul. That is when the victor arises. Duels end in death, in a chipped knife and a broken body on the floor.

This one did not...

The memory still haunts you.

Not in its breach of rite.

Nor its contradictions to morality.

But in what comes after.

The fear of the thing that was allowed to live...

Paul hadn't killed Feyd. Beaten, mauled, tamed. But not killed.

There is a rostrum made of sand and burnt bones. It was meant to serve as a victory throne, a symbol of a war and a revolt. You aren't so sure about that anymore. Not when it's being desecrated, by a survivor of the very thing it vowed to eradicate. Atop the dias, Paul stands, fingers swathed tightly around a pale, maimed wrist. The crowd stares, speechless as the prophetic son appoints a battered and bleeding Harkonnen Na-baron as his aid, his duke.

Feyd-Rautha is all jet blacks and blood reds. His eyes hold daggers, impaling anyone who dares to look into them. You can not fathom why Paul, the one who promised a paradise and an end to the Harkonnen oppression would do such a thing. You never thought him holy, you didn't consider him cruel either.

Paul hands over the spice trade to Feyd. He speaks of concentrated zones away from life. Somewhere deep and forgotten. He says "virtuous" as if it's a sermon only he can comprehend. "We need the funds, we need to rebuild, to fight. The spice is valuable and it will not hinder the awakening of Dune. My cousin will oversee its harvest and trade. The finances will be brought back to Arrakis, back to the Freman."

Maybe it's sorrow, a slithering nuance that won't leave. Maybe it's guilt twice folded and misplaced. Desperation for a kinsmanship

with a family, he had thought all lost. The way he looks at Feyd speaks of hope and trust and everything else a little boy feels when he's dragging his friend by the hand through a forest made of splendor and ideation. But Paul isn't a little boy anymore and Feyd has never been naught save a killer. And you, you can't help but notice how the Muad'dib begins to lose his golden hue.

The Sietch is cavernous, domed ceiling that expands into the rocks and sandy tiles that stretch as far as the eye can see. Unaltered spice particles dance in the gentle filtered rays of the sun. It feels like home. Like freedom and paradise and everything else those two men had stripped you of. Your body slumps by one of the etched walls. Awaiting your fellow Freman to find you.

There is a stiffness in the Freman, an elegance that must be mastered. You'd once thought it inherited, a mere bone structure passed on from mother to child. You're not so sure anymore. The stiffness reverberates off the Sietch walls, it's obvious now that it's never been about straight spines and high-held heads. It's the ideals, the loyalties that Fremen carve into their souls. Sooner or later someone will inform the king of where his darling hides.

All of Arrakis knows who you belong to.

One of the older women tunnels water down your throat, she cradles your head and shushes you when you try to speak. She spills advice, motherly advice, into your veins. Telling you of how blessed you are to be chosen by the Lisan Al Gaib and his blood. Her embrace is a vice, coddling suffocating and not at all unpleasant. There is a sleek comfort between the witherd silk of her chador. It heartens fatigue residing stubbornly between your bones. It causes your eyes to fade and your mind to race. You forgot the terrors that lay outside, the advancing menace carrying crystalknifes and a voice that shakes worlds. Darkness beckons, a welcomed change. For the first time in months, you feel safe...

You are still a Freman, born of sand and spice. There is a future somewhere with palm trees and rosa persica. You intend to find it, to hold it between your hands running tired fingers over soft cloud-light edges. Arrakis has stood for longer than most planets have existed. You refuse to abandon its fate to a spice addict and a manic.

It's obvious, isn't it?

Maybe it always was...

Arrakeen palace is shaped like a heart, something eternal ungraved. It was young when you first marched through its grand gates. It had felt no less threatening than the sandworms beneath your feet. The spice that flew through the halls was suffocating, a distant, permutated relative of the elixir that had raised you.

Paul's chancery is something empty, a cut out of Kaahgel masquerading as a citadel of dominance and perspicuity. It, much like the rest of the palace is novice and new. Paul sits in an awkwardly placed plush parlor chair, one retrieved from Caladan no doubt. He squirms in his seat as if his body has too many angles to fit properly in the rounded chair. He's far too accustomed to soft sands and jagged boulders. To sitting cross-legged on something loose and malleable. This luxury is unwelcomed, uncomfortable. You only notice Feyd when his demonic eyes suddenly land on you. He's languidly draped on the carpeted floor. His back half propped up by a quarter-painted wall. He's feeding slices of fruit into his mouth, savering the nick of the knife along his tongue.

They look so innocent. Sinless, carless little boys playing in a sanctuary fort. Hiding from life and its crushing expectations.

Paul follows his cousin's gaze, he's out of his seat and across the room before you have time to knock. You note the blackness under Paul's eyes, how the synthetic blue feels distant and sunken. Almost as if they're looking at you from meters inside a cave. He's wandering through the twilight of exhaustion. Paradying awakeness like a lost bat caught in the afternoon sun. He's only surviving on artificial energy from the spice he so readily consumes.

There is an exhilarating lilt in the timber of his voice. A galvanization in the way your name spills from between his lips. "What brings you here?" Paul's fingers dance across your shoulders, gripping them as one does their favorite toy. His eyes hold a fragile reverence, something unstable, denating with the slightest breath. "Lord Usul..." you begin, eyes bouncing between the sandy beiges of the walls. "You don't need to be so formal. Just say my name, like the first time we met." His nails start to dig into your arms, a jovian strength only a divine may possess. You don't remember leaving a deep impression.

"Paul, I-I need to talk to you about..." Your vision cuts to Feyd, a hidden flare penetrates his legs, you don't dare look the Harkonnen in the eyes. He's far too feral for such raw exhibitions of hate. Yet you want him to feel your abhorrence, your detest. Paul understands, he knows what you're going to say before you've even finished rehearsing in your head. "Feyd doesn't mind, you can talk freely in his presence, I promise you, he won't bite." You swallow the need to argue, to protest, he bites, he definitely bites, and lacerates and kills...

It's easy to fall between the crevices of his voice, to allow the gentle nudges to sway your decisions for you. You wonder if the words coming from your mouth are even truly your own. They had sounded so absolute in your head. So firm. Now they sound dented, feeble, like a child begging to remain awake. You tell the king of how you disapprove of the spice trade, that it should be ceased. Its termination can only benefit the war, hindering the galactical navigation of your enemies. Paul listens with a distracted sort of attendance. His eyes melt into you, tracing your features with a delicate precision. You feel like a map, laid bare, feeding him information. Information he ignores, opting to busy himself with tracing continents and oceans. "Paul please listen" you beg. "Please". You notice an ignited flicker in his eyes, snapping him out of his lucid trance. "You know, since you feel so strongly about...everything. Maybe, maybe you should stay here. With us. Be the queen or duchess or whatever. You can help us rebuild. You can-"

"What?" Your body jerks back, his fingers don't leave your forearms, pulling you back, closer. "Lord Usual...Paul...what are-" Something slithers between your bones, your skin, your muscles. Pushing past the cracks and sliding inside you. His mind grasps yours, echoing his desire, mapping out its constellation between your crux.

Paul feels in blues, blues that make up the nuance between worlds.

The ocean behind the largest dune

The lake beneath the greatest mountain.

The lamination of spice over one's eyes.

It somehow ends with you. Covered in a color that mimics ambitions and dreams and something practically attainable.

You feel him reach out, pushing you back into the physical world. Away from the luminous tints and flickering landscapes.

"I'm saying that everything I do reminds me of you. It's hard not to dedicate every single breath to your memory." Paul's eyes are blown wide, there's a lament carved into his voice. He's pleading, desperate, like trying to chisel rock with a pebble. You don't like where this is going, don't like the mania, the love that's painted so vividly on his face. Your stomach churns, false ecstasy pumping in agonizing doses. This is wrong, you shouldn't feel flattered, gleeful. This isn't a miracle or a blessing. It's a curse, you know this, you have to run to escape. But something in you freezes, a sickly silver of devotion, of habit, a tradition force-fed into your soul keeps your legs stiff and still.

Devotion is such a slippery thing. Always so close to suffocating. Sometimes all it's good for is a knife that kills. Just a grain of salt in a pulsing wound.

Your eyes flicker across the room, trying to look at something, anything but him, anything but the Muad'dib who could make you grovel at his feet like a doll without even opening his mouth. It's only in your frantic search for an affix point, that you notice the beast is missing. His dominion left empty. You feel a chill in the room. Something stalking closer, something lethal and rogue. You scream shriveling into Paul's arms as someone grips your waist from behind, encaging you. "You were right cousin, she's as beautiful as you described...and as brave." Your breath hitches, he's touching you. Your body twitches as a cold sweat breaks. "Paul" you plead looking up into his electric blue eyes. He only smiles, contorting his features into something they're not, something soft and arrogant. You see triumph shimmer through his mind. He's won a game you didn't know you were playing. Crowned victor by fate and circumstance and...

and prophecy.

Paul cradles your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up to look at you.

"The first time I set eyes upon you, I knew you were the girl in my dreams. The desert rose beckoning me to Arrakis, to Dune. Don't you see, we've been bound by fate?"

No.

Feyd slowly licks the shell of your ear, he hums in satisfaction, an action you didn't know could be laced with so much malice. He murmurs something into your jugular, something too violent to decode.

No.

Please no.

It's easier to love than to be loved.

There's a jolt that rings you awake, something violent crawling under your skin. You feel it before you witness it, witness the cold and loneliness not viable in the desert temples.

The halls scream in silence,

Hollow, employed out.

"Hello?" The eerie reverberation of your words leaves you shivering. Scraping along the walls, tumbling into doorless rooms trying to find someone, anyone. You can't remember the last time you'd been alone.

Utterly alone.

You didn't notice it at first. Didn't notice the unnatural stillness and the deafening silence. there is no life here, but it takes a practically mangled corpse for you to look down at the floor.

There's blood on the Sietch floor, red and thick and sacrilegious.

You thought you had run far enough, fast enough. You thought you had escaped. You turn and you run, back from that which you came, feet thundering across the sand-dusted floor. You don't know where you're going, why even run? Helplessness swells inside you, coiling in intricate knots. Only to snap violently when you cross the third threshold.

The corpses lie at his feet. your frenzied brain tries to count them, only going up to eight before it forgets what comes after. There is more, more bodies, more blood...more bones? But you can't focus on anything else except the glabrous man standing over them, knife pointed downwards, dripping into an endless sea of red.

Your father used to tell you tales of rivers made of blood. Of mad men claiming divine crusades as they fed bodies into the endless stream.

You never thought you'd witness it.

It shouldn't feel as conflicting as it does.

"Darling..." Feyd's voice is gravel on gravel. Rough and coursed. It grinds against your skin reawakening every half-healed scar.

"no, dear maker, please no" Feyd's gaze rakes over you, lingering on every detail. Toying and probing, much like a predator sizing up its frightened prey. "I missed you" his voice is purely threatening, mocking, he wants you back, needs you back. You can't be forgiven for this deliberate offense.

You try to bolt passed him, it's like a gallon of adrenaline has been shot straight into your chest. There's a scream in the air, you're not sure who it belongs to. you make it to the hallway leading to the contraction arena. Where the bearers of the water of life are nursed. You can see the stone-carved stairs and someone sitting there...

The ground slips beneath your feet, the red liquid having leaked under your soles. In the next breath, you're plunging into redness, shrouded and engulfed and bathed in the blood of your own kind. It feels warm and safe and disgusting. Like watching the stars of your favorite constellation collapse within themselves. It's a destructive kind of comfort, one that only ends in pain and bruises and fractured bones in places you can never wholly identify.

You're drowning,

the more you thrash the harder it gets to stand.

You feel the blood entangling you, weaving around your body like a net.

and then like a shadow, he's over you.

Looming with the promise of pain, of the misery of the savagery only he can offer.

"Feyd..." his name is razorblades upon your tongue. Your eyes catch his, distant voids colliding. Since when did you start looking into his eyes? When did the torture become worth it? His fingers ensnare your jaw, pushing cheeks and bones together. Feyd straddles your body, knees splashing into the blood. He tugs your head forward violently, before pounding it onto the floor. You moan out in pain a mangled, distorted noise. He only chuckles. Before repeating the motion. "You ran from us, you left us. I should kill you here and now. Bleed you out with the rest of these traitors!" it's hard not to notice the pain his voice harbors, odd how even a monster like Feyd can have his feelings hurt. He lifts his knife, wrapping both hands around the handle before plunging it into your abdomen. You choke, on a shriveled scream or a throat filled with blood you do not know. The colors are dulling and pulsating, somehow too dark and too bright at the same time. Everything feels like it's made of flowing water. Precious streaming water. You can feel the throbbing at the back of your skull, you feel the giddy patter of your heart, and the nervous ticks of your hips under Feyd.

Feyd...

Has he always been so beautiful?

Your body feels so hot and your mind feels so distant.

Everything feeds into his endless beauty.

Why are your lips pulsing?

your teeth sink in, trying to still the need to kiss.

"What's wrong princess, trying to play innocent? I know your tricks."

Feyd traces your lips with his. Fingers snake into your hair, pulling at odd intervals. "my sweet stupid little girl" he whispers, a curse and a blessing. He sucks on your bottom lip biting it harshly. Slipping his tongue between your teeth. His kiss is possessive, and swallowing. You feel yourself sinking deeper, wanting him to consume you whole. When he pulls back you feel like you can't breathe, you only existed within his kiss. It's the last thing binding you to this world.

But then his head dips down. Leaving open-mouthed kisses upon the gushing injury. Feyd drinks deeply from your open wound, ravaging the blood and pushing in silver of a forgotten moonlight. The way his tongue laps at the gaping hole and torn ligament sends a shutter up your spin. When he lifts his head again you watch mesmerized by the way your essence drips from his lips. He kisses you again ferocious and deep and all conusiming.

You feel so lost and so found.

Grounded and afloat.

It's only when a scream, a familiar one, in a distance distorted sort of way, rings across the hall that you start to pull away. You push yourself up, palms slipping on the liquid life. From behind Feyd, you notice a man and a women. Young, scared. There is revulse in their blue eyes, yet you can't navigate its direction. You're sure if you weren't bleeding out you could identify them, you're sure you knew them in this lifetime. You hear the blood gushing, hear the crisp whistle of the blade as it slices through flesh.

Once

Twice.

Only then does the alluring migraine sober. The metallic tang of blood wafting through the air makes you sick. It's odd how the repugnant scent had alluded you until now. Even if you'd been lying right in it. You wonder if such a scent would bother them. You doubt it, they tend to revel in the red glory and its hypnotizing associations.

"Took you long enough, cousin" Feyd's head is turned watching as Paul steps past the corpses. His eyes are vibrant, a sapphire blue that cuts through time and space. He kneels next to you, gaze devouring you in your pitiful state. "why did you run?" he is cold, hurt. His blue eyes betray a degree of relief hidden by a defrauding glower. "I-we love you, you mean everything to us." You look away too exhausted to put up an argument. "I missed being home." You mumble. You swore for a minute something akin to comprehension ripples through the air. You're too delusional to believe in anything solid anymore. But maybe Paul understands, maybe he yearns for the desert too. Maybe he'll go easy on you...

Paul's fingers glide across your stomach, scattering the dust particles that have landed on your still form. The light from the high windows glimmers off the three of you painting something holy, something right, in another world, in another lifetime. When he sees the wound Feyd created he chuckles. " Stars Feyd, at least try to keep her alive." Paul's nails gently rack across the torn ligament, idly playing with the loose skin. Feyd laughs deep and psychotic -is it wrong to say you missed it?- "I couldn't help myself, you should have seen her. Eyes blown wide covered in blood. Stars I just want-" you interrupt him with a low moan. Paul rubs his calloused thumb over your wound, soothing the cut before he presses down. Hard.

when he hears the moan he presses harder. Making you wither and hiss. "This is a punishment, (y/n), you're not supposed to be enjoying it." His fingers slither into the open wound, stretching out the ligament " You jolt and holler and cry, begging him to stop. "You're my oasis, the only thing I love in this world. But you ran. YOU LEFT US." His words glitch and crack, the voice shining through penetrating you with a knife seeped in guilt. "I'm sorry." you choke out, only to be rewarded by another harsh cut from Feyd's knife. "I'm the daughter of the desert..." you protest, tears slipping past your hooded eyes. "You're our lover" Feyd barks defensively, aggravated. When the tears begin to leak the pain stops. "Don't waste your water" Paul mutters, wiping away a tear and sucking it between his lips savoring your delicate taste.

Paul cradles your bleeding head in his lap, lowering his to kiss your crimson-soaked lips, "I love you" he mumbles against you, trying to press the core of his words into you. Making you feel him, making you believe. Feyd tucks your hair out of your face. Slowly pulling you up by your shoulders. The thin smile he offers is such a rare sight it makes your heart explode.

Why did you run away?

Why did you leave the ones you love most?

Your heart is laying on a bed of nails.

Somehow that feels fitting.

Feyd pulls off the top of his stillsuit, discarding the armor-like pieces. Slowly he lays in the gore, he pulls you over him. His motions slow, mesmeric. You follow just another wave trapped in the current. You're so torn and hurt, broken in ways that can never properly heal. You let it happen, it's easier this way. Slowly he licks his blade clean of your blood, he grabs your wrist places the hilt in your hands, and tucks your fingers over it. "Hold on tight," he advises as he draws your hand back and brings the knife down between his defined muscles. The moan he lets out is profane, it makes you feel euphoric, filled to the brim with the merriment of guilt. Feyd kisses you again, his tongue pushes past your teeth, his conquest of you feels Harkonnen in every way. His tongue down your throat feels like a heavenly bliss. From behind Paul breaks the back of your stillsuit, he licks a strip up and down your spine. You moan into the kiss with Feyd. Slowly Paul starts to whisper firefly kisses into each vertebrae. Sucking melodies into the frail bones. His teeth snick between the cartilage, all scorpion stings, and cobra bites. It feels so right.

Feyd is a cannibalistic star, relishing in the way your wounds bleed into his. He feeds off your pain, feeds off the pain you grant. He's delusional with a cosmic kind of lust. Pulling celestials from their homes to burn into his own body. He loves you, loves how you penetrate him with a knife clad in anathema and adherence too turbulent to understand.

Paul is, in many ways Feyd's opposite and in many others his equal. The quintessence of the path to hell being paved with good intentions. His kisses are the desert's curse and it's love. He's an entire solar system revolving around the only two people he has left to love.

Slowly the world grows dark. You feel it hard to remain awake. "Sweet dreams princess" you hear Paul whisper as Feyd shuffles under you. You fall into his expecting arms. Safe and strong. The day has been so long and bootless. so tiring. so vexing.

Yet somehow, in the endlessness of the moment, it matters all so little. Paul is here and he can hang the stars upon the night sky. Feyd is here and he can slaughter the universe and call it entertainment. You are safe with them, safe and happy and satisfied.

ngl this is the longest tag list I've ever gotten. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!💜💜 Let me know if you want to be added to future taglists

@deertaur , @fragileheartbeats , @yandere-romanticaa , @galaxyquirks , @feedmestraycats , @peachysunrize , @slytherinholland , @missbeeentertainment , @moonchild-artemisdaughter , @shiranai-atsune , @therealoutereffect , @frenchgirlinlondon , @purplefrogella , @yzuposts , @whiteoakoak , @abundance-of-fic-reblogs , @pomtherine , @goldenatreides , @sorianis , @howibecameabadassbitch , @sansaorgana

469 notes · View notes

austinbutlerslovers · 2 months

Text

Mr. Butlers Babysitter

Label mature 18+

Summary

When you began working as a babysitter for Mr. Butler you were immediately taken by his wonderful children and his beautiful Malibu estate, he also paid handsomely. Having worked for celebrities on a referral based system you prided yourself on being professional and discreet for his family.

With Mr. Butler recently divorced having you help him with the children during their weekend visits from their mother was a godsend. After two months his daughter and son adored you to pieces never wanting you to leave. It seemed like a perfect fit.

One fateful evening Mr. Butler puts you in a highly compromising position. One that could ruin your reputation and your livelihood if word got out. You have two choices: Be exploited never to work in the inner circle as a high status celebrity babysitter again. or go along with his perverted plans.

🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨

corruption kink•dubcon•manipulation• humiliation• degradation •naivety •drug use•alchohol use•edging• fingering•coercive sex•condom use•orgasms•yandere

🫦co-writer/smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia

💝Not for my softies: Very corrupt perverted manipulative Austin

My first corruption smut 😭 no idea what I’m doing but was told I would be good at it. This one was pushed to the front of the request due to incessant demand.

There was a HUGE glitch for the delay I could not post it with the ask ☹️ it crashed so many times so I included them here

Mr. Butlers Babysitter

You were an excellent employee working for Mr. Butler as a babysitter of his two wonderful children. Though he preferred you call him Austin after working two months you still called him Mr. Butler to maintain the professionalism. He was a very famous actor in the early 2020’s. Now in his late thirties he was a full time producer.

He has a beautiful seven bedroom Malibu estate with every luxury perk you could think of. You enjoyed the cliffside drive seeing the ocean on your way to work there.

You would roll down the window and stick your hand out, feeling the ocean breeze hearing the seagulls as the waves crashed against the cliff walls.

You adored his two children Alisa and Daniel. Alisa was 8 years old and full of confidence. She was book smart and excelled in school never once asking for help with of her homework.

His son Daniel was 5 years old, always in imagination land. He was a very picky eater and sometimes you would have to pretend his favorite toy dinosaur would eat his food if he didn’t.

On this evening you and Austin were preparing pizza for the kids in his massive kitchen. He had his own personal brick oven designed to fit the space.

You grated mozzarella as he ladled the tomato sauce. As you sprinkled the cheese on the pizza dough your hands touched.

He smiled at you and replaced the ladle into the tomato sauce before standing behind you and placing his hands on yours showing you exactly how to spread it.

He instructs you gently speaking over your right shoulder “You know how Daniel is with his texture sensitivities if this cheese melts clumped together he won’t eat it” you giggle you totally understand. He slowly releases your hands and watches you work. He gives you a touch of approval on your shoulder before he gets back to ladling the sauce.

There was always a tension in the back of your mind with him. He was very attractive on an unnatural level.

His sandy blonde hair was always maintained in soft waves. His blue eyes had a depth and sincerity that if you stared too long you felt what it meant to get lost.

His jawline and face shape were squared and masculine and his plump lips accentuated his perfectly shaped nose. He was extremely handsome and though he was older he looked and acted so much younger.

Though you found him attractive you had set goals in mind: make money and advance your life. That kept you adamant to remain professional and you also felt so safe and highly valued working for him.

He paid you handsomely, had wonderful children and a beautiful home. You would never ruin this opportunity.

The four of you sat in the back yard that night to watch one of Mr. Butler favorite child hood movies. ‘The Good the Bad and the Ugly.’ It had become routine on Sunday to have movie night before the kids returned to their mothers for the week.

On the enormous hillside yard of his Malibu estate he had a large movie screen and a projector constructed. You all sat under a gazebo enjoying the warm breeze on a plush couch bed with a fire pit infront of it.

Beyond the movie screen you could see the twinkling lights of the city. You rested your head back enjoying the space, he had a very lovely home.

The kids grew restless after only 20 minutes of the slow paced movie but you were able to retrain their attention by asking them questions. “Is that cowboy a good one or a bad one?” you ask as Lee Van Cleefs scowling face took over the screen.

“A bad one!” Alisa yells quickly before her brother answers to prove how smart she is. Daniel’s little face saddens into a pout feeling like he lost. ”I think you’re right Alisa…” you say valuing her effort actually unsure which is the bad one.

You put your hand on Daniel’s little back and comfort him “Daniel look your turn is next! Is that cowboy a good cowboy or an ugly cowboy?” He studies Clint Eastwoods stern face “He looks like a mad cowboy ” he says with his cute voice growling and tiny teeth bared. You and Austin laugh at his adorableness.

“He does looks like a mad cowboy” Austin says assuring him. “Come here little guy sit on daddy’s lap” he motions for Daniel to come and easily picks him up “ah there we go” He says holding Daniel forward facing to watch the movie. He runs his hands through his son’s sandy blonde locks they look almost identical.

“Do you want to do nails? “ Alisa asks you excitedly out of the blue practically bouncing next to you on the couch bed. “Sure if it’s okay with your dad I know it’s getting late“ you admit checking your phone.

She looks to her dad “Plea-a-a-se can I go get my nail kit daddy!“ she pouts with her hands in a prayer. He can’t resist her. “You can get it but you have to be done in less than thirty minutes it’s almost your bed time” he say firmly.

Alisa squeals and you watch as she runs into the house.

Austin’s thumb caresses your shoulder to get your attention. “Look he’s out” he says pointing at little Daniel comfortably resting back in his arms. “Aw look at his little cute face, do you want me to take him up?” You ask gently to be helpful.

He motions his head “No you girls do nails and I’ll sit with him to watch the movie” you agree to the idea just as Alisa comes bounding out of the house with a hot pink nail box kit. She slams it on the flat stone edge of the fire pit.

Austin puts his finger to his lips with a stern face shushing her because Daniel is sleeping. “Sorry daddy” she says to him softly “ I got it “ she says out of breath holding up the kit to you.

She puts the plastic box of nail supplies on the couch bed next to you and pops it open. Pulling out a bottle of hot pink polish “Do my nails this color” she says demandingly but she’s a kid. “If you say please” you sweetly correct her “Please do my nails this color!” She asks with an impatience rising in her voice. You smile and extend your palm to her.

She places her small hand in yours as you brush the color on each of her nails. “and the stickers!” She says pulling out a roll.

You place a sticker of her choice on each nail. She looks them over excitedly “Do you like them?” You ask to make sure she’s a happy client. She jumps up and hugs you tightly around your neck.

The squeeze shocks you and you pat her shoulder tenderly to calm her “Okay honey I’m glad you like them “ you say pretending to sounds like you are being choked and it makes her giggle.

Austin realizes he was so invested in your encounter he wasn’t watching his movie and it’s already been more than thirty minutes. “Okay it’s definitely time to head up” he says carrying a sleeping Daniel as he clicks off all the electronics.

Alisa gathers her nail kit and holds your hand. You all head up stairs to put them in their rooms. Austin heads down the hall to Daniel’s and you head to Alisas.

She does everything on her own in her fully custom princess room. She brushes her teeth, washes, her face and puts on her pajamas before climbing into her canopy bed.

You click on her unicorn night light and click off the main room light ready to head out . “Can you talk to me until I fall asleep” she asks in her soft voice.

It’s a big request because you have classes in the morning and you are tired but you want to bond with her so you pull up a child size hot pink princess throne and sit next to her bed.

“What do you want to talk about hun?” You ask holding her smaller hand in yours and tracing your thumb over her freshly painted hot pink nails.

“Youre not going to leave are you?” She asks with her timid voice. You reassure her “I am going to go to my apartment and then I’ll come back and see you next weekend when your back from your moms” you smile warmly as you tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

Her face suddenly saddens “mommy wants you to make you go away” her eyes brim with tears and her lip pouts as it quivers.

“Aw honey“ you say as you pick her out of bed and place her on your lap. You pet her sandy brown hair and shush her. She begins sobbing against your chest. You pull her face back to look in her eyes. Her face is bright red with tears streaming by this point.

“Alisa honey …aw honey… sometimes people say things they don’t mean.” You wipe her tears. ”You know maybe your mommy is angry because I’m new in your life and she wants to make sure that I’m taking the very best care of you” you pinch her small chin. She still has a sad look in her eyes but she has stopped crying and is now sniffling.

“Mommy is mad because in daddy’s phone she found pictures of you.” she says through her sniffles as she finally starts calming down.

“What kind of pictures“ you ask patting her shoulders comfortingly“

“Like pictures when you bend over?” she admits not sure what it means.

Your face goes bright red not expecting her to say that “Well yes that’s ..um that’s not appropriate how did you find this out sweety ?”You ask out of pure curiosity. “I heard mommy talking to her boyfriend that daddy is a per-vert he takes lots of pictures when you bend over. What is a per-vert?” She asks with an innocent curiosity not knowing the word.

You sigh gaining more information than you ever wanted to know. “How about I tell you a bed time story?” You say to distract her and she nods smiling and snuggles in your arms. You begin to make up one about Princess Alisa and her hot pink unicorn that can fly to her castle in the clouds.

You are never one to pry into the affairs of your clients. You were a baby sitter for another celebrity couple, the Milanos, before his wife packed up and moved back to Italy with their triplets.

You received high recommendations from Mr. Milano to land the job with Mr. Butler due to your discretion and ability to always remain professional.

In the Milano mansion you witnessed several fights. Once Mr. Milano even backing out of his driveway drunk screaming at Mrs. Milano before he crashed into their courtyard fountain.

You took their sobbing triplets inside to avoid them having to watch their parents have another explosive outburst. You brought them to the their enormous playroom and turned on some kids follow along music until they were wiggling and dancing instead of crying.

A word about their issues never left your lips even when the paparazzi berated you with emails and bribes to be a source of information for the infamous impending Milano divorce splashed across every gossip site.

Even as you saw the exorbitant amounts being offered you knew your reputation would be diminished in the elite celebrity circle as a nanny and you’d be scrambling back to a form of lesser employment.

But as you cradled Alisa in your arms you realized this was a completely different scenario on top of the average celebrity family dramatics.

Your first divorced client may actually have a sexual interest in you.

As you finish your story you hold her close comforting her in silence. After a while her body begains to go slack. “I’m going to put you in bed now okay hun?” You say gently and she nods.

You place her in bed and pull her unicorn covers up to her chest. “Promise me you’ll come back”she asks in her sweet sleepy voice trying to keep her eyes open. You reassure her ”yes Alisa I’m coming back” you pet her hand. “Even if my daddy is a per-vert like mommy says?” she asks as your brows furrow at the complication.

“Alisa” Austin’s voice snaps from the doorway. You wonder how long he’s been there as you slightly panic. “You should’ve been asleep a long time ago now it’s very late and you have school in the morning next time I’m not going to let you stay up like this” he says sternly “I’m sorry daddy” Alisa says sleepily.

You interject “Mr. Butler… Austin, sorry it’s my fault the nails, the girl talk bed time story I guess we just got carried away.” You say smiling weakly looking at him with newfound eyes realizing he might have a little naughty photo collection of you in his phone.

He smiles to you “No you're fine I think she just gets really excited having you around I’m going to make sure she goes down. Just wait for me a minute downstairs.” He says as you cross paths. He sits on Alisa’s bedside as you leave the room.

You walk down the hall but slowly enough to listen in and pry. Their voices are muffled but you distinctly hear him in his softest sweetest voice ask her ”Now what were you silly girls talking about in here”

She loves her daddy you know she’s going to rat. You quickly make your way down the stairs through the living room and exit the front of the house.

You enter your car and hold the steering wheel wondering if he’s going to fire you now because his daughters spilled his little secret. “UGHhh!” You exclaim because he pays you four grand just to work weekends every month with the sweetest kids on the planet.

You’ve signed an NDA but that’s still an awkward topic to ignore especially being in close proximity with him, likely complications will arise. You’ll work for him one more weekend and ask him for a recommendation to another high status family.

You look up through the windshield to see Mr. Butler jogging out of his modern glass front estate down to your car. You roll down your window confused. “I thought you left” he says out of breath. “I told you to wait for me downstairs” he says as he reaches into his pocket. “For the overtime” he says handing you a small stack money. Your eyes light up as you accept it.

Counting through a thousand dollars you raise your brow as you look up at him. “Mr. Butler… there’s no way all of this is just for overtime.” He slicks his hand back through his hair looking around to other houses in the distance before he looks back to you with a grin “How about you come in tomorrow on your day off and you make it up to me” he says slyly.

You fold the stack in your hand and bring it to your purse. “Okay if that will make us even” you say matter of factly. He flashes you a charming smile “It’s a date then” he says stepping back from your car “And tomorrow call me Austin” he says as you pull out of the driveway of his estate.

You can’t quite put your finger on it but the whole interaction felt a little off. But maybe he was just nervous about what Alisa may have said to him.

If he needs your help with his sweet kids tomorrow you’re all for it. You turn up the music to play on your way home.

Make It Up to Me

The next day during your morning college course you receive a text from Austin. “Come by at 6:30pm house unlocked” you knit your brow in confusion. Usually you arrive at 10am to help with the kids then it dawns on you it’s a weekday his kids are in school and probably have extracurriculars after so you type in “okay”

After classes you go to the gym and work out for an hour of cardio. You like to stay fit as a baby sitter if a kid can out run you, your toast.

You take your usual Monday cycling class and leave covered in sweat. You shower and open your locker to realize because of the work schedule change you didn’t pack street clothing. You left your apartment wearing your work out gear. Now instead of heading home you’re driving to Malibu.

“Shit” you say finding only a clean pair of black yoga shorts and a sports bra in your locker. “great job “ you murmur to yourself “Wear the skimpiest out fit to your employers house after you find out he probably takes photos of your ass” you roll your eyes at your luck.

Your strait laced thoughts suddenly start to slip as you try to think of when he would take the inappropriate pictures.

There was a time he had you climb a ladder in his storage room to carry down hoolah hoops for the kids. Then proceeded to have you all compete in the living room to see who was the fastest.

You were of course and he readily filmed it as you laughed trying to keep the rhythm of your hips going. His kids had already dropped theirs to the floor and were fumbling and giggling so you stopped to help them.

There was another instance when he installed a boot camp playground for his son before his birthday. He wanted you to test it out with the kids. You guys balanced on beams climbed ropes and had to shimmy on your belly’s under ropes through a sand pit. The low angle he filmed as you crawled didn’t make sense then.

Once somehow Daniel’s nerf football was thrown up into his tree house and the ladder had not been repaired. The kids would be dropped off in an hour and Mr. Butler was adamant you retrieve Daniels nerf football.

He followed you to the yard down the hill to the garden infront of the large tree with the custom house built into its branches. He hoisted you up by cupping and pushing your ass to get you higher. You laughed at the embarrassing way you needed to be helped. You finally wiggled into the tree house, throwing the nerf foot ball down.

You sat on the ledge and Austin gestured you to jump down to him ”please catch me, I don’t have independent health coverage” you joked. “If I break your bones I’ll mend them come to me” he gestured.

You jumped off landing into his arms both falling back onto the grass. His pupils were huge as you stared down at him panting and smiling. You quickly stood up and offered him your hand.

You realize you will definitely have to keep your distance he’s already been trying you.

But you really need this job. It’s saving your life right now he is your highest paying client by far. Your bills are paid your gym membership is renewed and you actually have a savings account.

You begin to wonder if your next employer will treat you as well and pay as much. It’s highly doubtful

You know the kids will be there today and you can leave early with a made up excuse before they fall asleep. Even on weekends you can just plan to leave early every time and should be completely safe.

You search through your locker again trying to find anything to cover you from wearing just sports bra and shorts to his house. You find a zip up black long sleeve jacket to match.

But it’s all form fitting accentuating your ass by covering your top and leaving your legs exposed. You shake your head in annoyance, it will have to do. You don’t have time to head back to because you thrive on being punctual. You tie up your hair in a pony tail and leave the gym.

You drive the route to Mr. Butlers estate with the windows rolled down listing to music. You pull up to his place at around 6:30. You walk in to the grandios living room to find the estate empty. No Austin, no kids, no maid, not anyone.

You reach in your purse and take out your phone texting Mr. Butler. “Where is everyone?” It takes a moment but you see the little dots moving showing he’s typing back. “movie room”. You’ve never been down there before. To make sure it’s not a danger zone you text him back “kids with you?” You await his response there isn’t one.

After a moment he finds you in the living room and smiles as he sees you “It felt kind of weird texting you and were in the same house…” his voice trails off seeing what your wearing

You tug down your sleeve and clutch you purse closer to your body “Sorry it’s unprofessional of me I know but I’ve never been here during a weekday and I forgot to pack the extra clothing.“

He makes a hmm sound looking you over in amusement “You must work out a lot to have legs like that” he compliments and your face flushes. “Don’t be shy about it” he says grinning as he walks by you to the kitchen.

He’s wearing sweats and a black tee but youve always eyed he’s in very good shape himself. He pulls a bottle of wine tucking it under his arm and pulls two Reidel glasses out. “Come watch a movie with me” he says innocently. “Mr. Butler..I mean Austin, with all do respect I can’t.” He eyes you mischievously. “You believe everything an eight year old tells you?” Your face flushes Alisa totally ratted to her daddy.

He has a knowing smile that you return because how did Mr. Butlers ex-wife even have access to his phone?

Maybe Alisa’s mom had it wrong, sometimes moms exaggerate to their kids to villainize daddy. Austin seems very kind.

He motions you to join him and this time you follow him down the stairs to the movie room. He pushes open the doors with his back and it opens to a theater space with five rows of black custom movie couches, it’s a small amphitheater.

“Holy fuck” you say before covering you mouth cursing infront of a client. Your previous clients the Milanos movie theater fails in comparison to this.

Along the back wall he has framed posters of every movie he’s starred in. You begin walking along and inspecting each one.

He approaches you from behind and hands you a glass of wine. “Oh thank you … but I’m not allowed to drink, well I’m legally not allowed to drink until next year .” you smile shyly as your face flushes. The way he stares at you in disbelief makes you feel awkward “You’ve never even had a drink?” He asks lowering his tone.

You tuck your hair behind your ear feeling the heat rising to your face as you try to explain.

“Well I was always honor roll and very goal oriented, not much time for friends. Then I got accepted to a great college on a scholarship. My room and board is paid by it so I really only have time to do my course work, workout ,and come to your house Mr. Butler. From what I can see, drinking kind of makes people wild and crazy and dumb anyway it never really interested me.”

He smiles “Well maybe they are drinking hard liquor this is wine, it’s not instant like a shot, it takes a while to build in your system“

You pry more “if hard liquor makes you crazy, what does wine feel like?” You ask intrigued.

“Mmm like a really mellow mood, no more stress no more anxiety you can just be yourself.” He smiles.

You mull it over staring into the red liquid, thinking about how anxious you are waiting for his kids to get here already. Maybe just a glass. You lift it to sip and he gestures you not to.

“This is a nice bottle when you drink you have to cheers to something.” He proclaims.

“Oh..” you say not familiar with drinking customs. Your mind draws a blank. His eyes squint for a minute until he catches a thought “To a great working relationship” he says and it makes you smile and cheers him clinking glasses then taking a drink. He rests his glass down “You really are phenomenal the kids adore you by the way”. He admits.

You both look over at his Elvis movie poster you have been standing in front of. “You ever seen this?” He asks because of your age. “No I haven’t are you good in it?” He nearly snorts his wine as he takes a sip. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I almost won an Oscar” He exclaims profoundly. ”That’s what we’re gonna watch then” he says leaving you to set everything up in the theater.

He sits center mid row and you sit next to him on the black custom theater couch putting your purse on the table rest of your seat.

You wait as he finds the film in his catalogue with his universal remote then dims the lights. The theater is completely dark and silent.

He refills your wine glass as the credits start. It’s a very haunting Elvis melody. Followed by a montage of him dressed as Elvis. Finally you see him “Wow you look so different with black hair, you say but the theater has surround sound speakers.

He can’t quite hear you so he turns the volume down. You begin divulging too much feeling a bit dizzy ”Oh Mr. Butler no I don’t want to ruin the movie you don’t have to turn it down I was just saying you look so different with black hair it really brings out your eyes. You have very pretty blue eyes” you say staring at him a little too long in the dim lighting.

You wonder why you are suddenly turned on and shake the thought from your head. He listens to your tipsy rambling and smirks refilling your glass. “I’ve seen this movie over a dozen times I’d rather hear you talk honestly” he admits glancing over at you affectionately.

The movie continues to play at a lower volume the bright flashing colors and lights are a dizzying spectacle to your eyes.

Him wearing green, him wearing pink, him jiggling his dick on the screen. “Wait what?” You exclaim. As you sit up he laughs. “I swear I just saw! Oh!! You did it again” you rest back in your chair wondering why you are becoming wet.

The movie continues and you are fully invested in every word he says. His southern drawl is resonating in your ears.

He pours you a glass one more time as the Trouble scene comes on smiling to himself. When the scene shows him on stage you are already labored breathing because he looks so good in eyeliner. As he begins to sing and then dance on the sceeen you audibly gasp.

Why is it so sexual isn’t this the 50s? You watch as he kneels and rises from the floor as women in the audience on screen reach for his cock“ holy fuck “ you say out loud as you pant heavily.

You wonder if he can really do that… inside of you. You squirm in your seat too heavily aroused “Fuck Mr. Butler.. I mean Austin” you say a little slurred and he pauses the movie on the scene when he’s in the cop car.

“Mr.B- -Austin I didn’t eat and I worked out and I had the wine and now I feel really weird…oh god!” you exclaim standing up from the couch “The kids what time is it!”

He stands with you and watches as you try to steady your balance. “The kids aren’t coming” he admits. “What?!” You exclaim louder than you intended trying to focus your eyes feeling like they are vibrating.

“The kids aren’t coming because it’s a week day” he says looking at you as if you got the plans wrong.

You go over in your mind how he handed you the money and you try to remember his exact words ‘Come on your day off and make it up to me’ you realize he wants you to make it up sexually. You take a step back “Oh god Mr. Butler” —-“ Austin” he interjects

You take another step back “Mr. Austin I can’t - - ” he cuts you off again “just -Austin” he says.

Your back hits the wall behind you in a pathetic attempt to avoid his alluring aura. He places his hands to the wall on either side of your head cornering you and standing so closely you can smell his cologne.

“I tried luring you in so many ways but you were just so professional you never relaxed your guard around me. But I finally figured out how to loosen you up.” He says with a smile.

He stares into your eyes with a burning intensity wanting to watch your reaction as he admits it

“A pinch of ecstasy in a full glass of wine.” He smirks

“What!” You exclaim in shock that he’s already drugged you. He smiles “A good girl like you wouldn’t even know what was happening to her.” He confesses with an alluring smile.

He lowers his head next to your ear “Why do you think you’re having so much fun?” he whispers to you as a strange sensation falls over your body.

He smiles against your ear and hovers his mouth over your neck fanning your sensitive skin as he speaks "You didn't leave me another way to have you.....it’s a shame I had to make it this way." He says as he licks his tongue in a trail along your neck.

You go weak and cover with chills as he starts to kiss and suck your neck making your body begin to tingle all over especially between your legs. It suddenly makes sense why the movie colors were so vivid and you felt shocks to your core that made you wet every second he was on screen.

You have fallen in to his trap.

Your breathing increases and you weakly put your hands on his firm chest trying to stop him but it's in vain. You can't fight the effect he has over you. The wine and the ecstasy make you completely surrender his touch, you want more of him as he wants more of you.

He reaches his hand between your legs and presses his fingers against your pussy. It radiates pulses of pleasure throughout your entire body. A small moan escapes your lips. “Your fucking soaked “ he says looking at his wet fingertips.

You grab his hand placing it back to your aching pussy wanting him to touch you more you are craving it but he smirks.

He brings his hand up to your throat placing it gently there instead gazing directly into your eyes knowing he has complete control to pervert you to his wishes.

“I never took a good girl Ike you to be such a slut” he teases and you whimper. “Go on beg your boss to touch you like a slut“ he commands. You slowly muster up the words “please… touch me”

You feel his hard cock press across your thighs instead making your core clench

“Is that what you want?" He asks leaning in to suck onto your neck again. “Yes! Please Mr.Butler touch me” your desperate tone makes his cock harder.

"What did I tell you about my name?" He asks rubbing his hand against your pussy. His touch sends shocks of pleasure radiating through your body distracting you from saying his name. "A-Austin!!" you finally cry out.

"You’re so cock drunk you can't even form words" he says smiling in amusement as he kisses his way up your neck to your lips. He takes you into an erotic kiss gaining instant access to your wanting mouth. He glides his tongue in and twirls it against yours while devouring your lips. He pulls you from the wall back into the aisle and pushes you down on the couch breaking his kiss and making you lay flat.

He holds your legs up pulling the band of your shorts to peel them off of you with your panties, leaving you half naked.

He climbs on top of you settling between your legs. His eyes are full of lust as you see them roam your body. He slowly unzips your jacket exposing your body in your sports bra. "Fuck you look incredible" he says trailing his hand down your stomach.

His left hand hooks his thumb into your sports bra pulling it up enough to let your tits out of their confinement. He gets his phone out of his pocket and takes a photo with flash.

You turn away as it hurts your sensitive eyes. Any dignity you had left was shattered as soon as he took the compromising photo. “Please delete it Austin!” you beg him with your entire career on the line if he shows anyone."Delete it?” He smirks “No, I’m gonna use it blackmail you into doing whatever I desire, and if you deny me it’ll be posted anonymously so everyone will know what a slut you really are” he confesses. “Austin please I’ll do what ever you say please don’t post the photo” you beg him almost in tears the photo would ruin you.

He smiles and squeezes one of your full tits then the other. He tugs at your nipples making you gasp “Our little secret then” He says enamored, he finally has you at his mercy.

Suddenly you feel him slowly sink two of his fingers in your tight cunt. He starts to pump them in pulling against a hard ridge inside that makes your hips buck up ."Austin!" you moan out as he sends shock of pleasure all over your body.

Your core gets tighter as he continues to finger you massaging your tight walls. You are heavily panting feeling the release of so many endorphins firing at once from the ecstasy.

Austin notices the way your legs tremble as your walls flutter against his fingers you’re going to cum. He increases his pace enjoying his wet knuckles smacking against your folds as you moan.

"Austin please don't stop!" you plead as you start to climax. He places his other hand across your pelvis pressing down and using his thumb to circle your clit.

You are high pitched moaning with your core so tight it feels like it will snap “cum for me “he commands and you clutch his wrist feeling how he shoves his finger inside of you as your orgasm.

You deeply moan as sparks explode in your core and radiate through your body. He continues to finger you into aftershock until your back arch’s from the couch as you cry out for him . Then he slows to a stop.“ I know I know” he says cooing at you as he caresses your jaw. It was an intense orgasm you are panting and shivering trying to regain your breath. You rest your head back on the couch in a daze.

The ecstasy in your system has increased your arousal to its peak you have lost all control over your body.

You watch Austin pull a condom from his pocket and tear it open. He reaches in the band of his sweats and releases his thick cock. "oh god..." you say in a shock because he is so well endowed

"Such a slut for letting your new boss fuck you like this" He says as he smiles at you. He presses the condom to the head of his cock and carefully rolls it down his shaft. He sees you eyeing his every movement. "Just a condom on the first time. In the application you sent in it said you are not on birth control, but we’re gonna fix that" he confesses.

Your eyes widen in shock as you whimper. You gave up so much information on your hiring form most that didn’t even pertain to the job. He knows: What college you go to, where your parents live, all of your social media handles, even your time of the month, among so many other things. He has it all thought out and trapped you officially.

“When Mr. Milano referred you to me, I was shocked he’d ever give you up , but with his divorce… no more kids no more babysitter.” He smiles “You were the hottest thing I’d ever seen. The picture he sent of you innocently smiling in your tennis outfit at his house.I pleasured myself to your photo right there at my bathroom sink.” He gazes lustfully between your legs “and now I finally get to try your sweet pussy”

You let out a moan as he settles between your legs and parts your thighs wider. He rests his chest to yours and aims his cock for your entrance. As he penetrates you grip his shoulders and cry out from the piercing of his size.

"MMm my good girl taking my cock so well..-fuck-..your so tight" he says as you gasp for air feeling the stretch. He slowly makes you take every inch of him until it’s too painful "it’s too much A-austin! Too m-much!!" you plead as your eyes well with tears and your nails dig into his shoulders.

You don't think you can handle it as you start to feel how big his cock is. "Be a good girl and take it all for me" he says as he trusts himself deep sinking in all the way to your core. Your back arcs but no sound escapes your throat from the pain as the ecstasy amplifies it.

He works into you your stunned body at a gentle pace “Don’t worry pretty girl…the pain will subside … and you will like it "he reassures you and plants kisses on your neck to distract you as he thrusts into you stretching your tight walls. After a moment his words are true the pain transforms into pleasure and he hears your sweet moans in his ears.

He puts his left hand on your hip increasing his thrusts pushing his deepest to hit your cervix. He turns your head exposing the other side of your neck to kiss and suck your most vulnerable spot creating a bruise.

He pins your hands above your head and tilts his hips thrusting at a deeper angle and increasing your moans. His hips begin smacking into yours as you cry out on each one of his thrusts.“ Austin I’m so closel” you admit in passion.“Gonna make you cum with me” he breaths. He increases his speed until he’s wracking your body with his plows. “I’m gonna cum!” You yell making his cock twitch. He groans as he pumps you full of his seed. He grips your shoulders for leverage and pushes even deeper. You both moan in unison as you orgasm.

He finishes panting heavily above you staring into your eyes. He is thoroughly satisfied and already wants to feel every ridge of your walls without a condom.

You look back up at him as you regain your breath, it was the best sex you ever had. “I’m gonna pull out now” he says and you nod as he slides his shaft back until his cock head slips out. You both moan from the loss of contact. He slowly stands from the couch and pulls the condom off of his cock until it snaps. He fixes his sweats and discards the condom in a lined bin.

You quickly find your panties and your shorts and pull them back on then you stand and zip up your sports jacket. Austin raises the lights to brighten the room as he turns all the other settings in the movie theater off with his universal remote. “Earlier when you mentioned you didn’t eat I wanted to feed you. Can I feed you now” He asks over his shoulder.

You collect your purse. “No I think I’ll just go home.” You say nervously. He turns to look at you then.

“I want you to stay” he offers but you shy away “Austin I have classes in the morning I really wasn’t planning for …all of this”

He approaches you slowly tucking his finger under your chin. He sees in your eyes you are too drunk to even leave his estate.

He smirks knowing you’ll have to stay the night and he’s going to enjoy you again and again. He also has something he can give you that will always get his way with you.

“How much do I owe you for baby sitting me then” he asks slyly looking away to retrieve his phone. He opens the app to transfer money directly to your account. He leaves the number space blank as he hands it to you.

You look up at him knowing it was the best sex of your life but the way he corrupted the situation and controls you with it. You decide to go all in, typing in the number you want and handing it back to him. Double your monthly salary.

His eyes light up in amusement and he immediately hits send. You are well worth it. He wants you more and he quickly thinks of a way to get you to stay during the week.

Your phone alerts the transfer is complete and your stomach jumps in excitement looking at the amount in your banking app. He smiles seeing how happy you are.

As your eyes meet he gazes at you lustfully “For that amount you’ll have babysit me for the rest of the week then.” He admits.

End

To be continued due to high demand ♥️☺️🥀

Available now ♥️

517 notes · View notes

faetreides · 2 months

Text

summary: feyd rautha x emperor’s afab oldest child!reader

cw: feet stuff, piss kink, implied eventual knifeplay/blood play, cannabalism, arranged marriage, feyd being so weird but reader lowkey loves it, facesitting but the kind where feyd would beg you to break his neck, spanking/mild painplay, very likely ooc feyd since i haven’t seen part 2 yet, use of “princes” and “wife”, wedding hunt and black cum hcs taken from @valeskafics , reader doesn’t really know what’s going on but they’re vibing

wc: 1.4k

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

Collapsing in relief has never been more appealing. You finally have a moment of respite after vigorous and exhausting wedding festivities, and you need to collect yourself. This marriage to the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was only brought to your attention a week before it would take place.

Surprisingly, you didn’t really mind the man himself. It was just so sudden, is all. During any visits with his family, you had to be mindful of how you reacted to his cocky displays of ruthlessness and violence. Your father would have your head if he saw how tight you squeezed your thighs together or how much you panicked at the thought of leaving a puddle on your throne. Feyd always marked his departure with a cliche kiss to the back of your hand and a hissed promise that you couldn’t make out.

He would protect you at the very least if he didn’t love you. You’re not even sure that you love him, but this shameful crush could grow into something untamable if you lose your footing. Something… unbecoming of a member of the royal family. You wonder if it already has.

The wedding was as grand as could be, glittering decorations and finery followed by archaic rituals to please your in-laws. The Wedding Hunt in particular sent your heartbeat into overdrive, but the satisfaction on your betrothed’s face when he caught his “prize” was intoxicating. Feyd Rautha kisses like he kills, you were quick to discover, fiercely and uncaring of any blood that might be shed.

You’re brought out of your reminiscing by your now husband closing the door to your room behind him. You only have another day with your family before you’re to leave for Giedi Prime. There has hardly been time to get to know the man you will lie beside for the rest of your life, until now.

“Wife.” He bluntly greets you, awkwardly nodding his head in an effort to maintain his “tough” image. You won’t tease him about the barest hint of blush on his cheekbones, but you treasure it nonetheless.

You humor him, “Husband.” Your nod mirrors his and you take a seat at the long table in the middle of the room after Feyd pulls a chair out for you.

This was the next part of the ritual, where the newly married couple must eat a meal that one partner made for the other. It sounds simple enough that you don’t think anything of it.

Feyd makes a gesture and your food is placed before you by one of your family’s servants. They look a bit queasy and green in the face but they’re gone before you can ask if they’re alright.

“I hope you like it, princess.” Feyd says with a barely there smirk, pointing to the… pie in front of you. “I cut down many people for it.”

You raise an eyebrow at that but bring your knife to take a slice of the pie anyway. Upon lifting the piece onto your plate, you notice eyeballs, flesh, tongues, and some sort of black liquid running throughout the filling. You freeze in place, not even meeting your husband’s eyes. One blue eye seems to twitch and the black substance makes a sick sound as you move it around with your fork.

“The other men who your father considered, my concubines….. I actually can’t tell you which of them are in that slice, but they are all there.” He whispers in your ear, having gotten up from his position opposite you to feed you himself.

You respect the ritual despite your urge to throw up, so you swallow what he gives you. He grins, swiping a thumb down to your throat to feel the food travel. He squeezes your cheeks when you’re done, and you open your mouth to show him that you ate it all.

“That’s my princess.” He condescendingly croons, bending down to run his tongue all over your face before standing up and pushing you to lie flat on the cold table. “But I'm afraid that it’s time for me to have my meal.”

Your elaborate wedding gown is slashed to shreds, the cool tip of his blade moving down your flesh until it reaches your lace covered mound. He taps the hilt of his weapon on your hood and unceremoniously tosses it on the floor.

You didn’t expect the reveal of your wedding night attire to be under such unorthodox circumstances, but can you say you expected any of this?

“A worthy bride with a body to match, thank you for this gift, your highness”. He says in a half joking manner, grinning with too many teeth as he runs his hands along the delicate material. He toys with the idea of cutting this little number to pieces too, but your holes are left conveniently exposed. Maybe he’s fallen too in love with it, he’s been in love with you since you met years ago anyway.

The lingerie is a custom designed piece littered with straps and sheer fabric that leave nothing to the imagination. Your tits are accentuated by a seashell-like pattern bra and there’s even a little black bow above your pussy. The frilly strips of material wrapped around your thighs do nothing to keep your curves contained and the tiny tulle skirt frames your ass beautifully.

Your husband drinks in the sight of you before pulling your ankles to rest on his shoulders. You watch in arousal and shock as he broadly licks the sole of your right foot. He groans unabashedly, nuzzling at your heel and then dipping his tongue in the spaces between your toes. You wiggle at the ticklish feeling but you don’t kick him away.

He really gets into it when he starts sucking your toes, bobbing his head and making sure you’re watching as curls his tongue around each one. His eyes roll back in pleasure once he reaches the last toe on your other foot, and drool trickles down your leg when he’s done getting acquainted with the taste of it. He presses a kiss to the top of each toe but then the weird softness is ruined by the bite he adorns your ankle with.

Feyd’s mouth makes a slick popping sound as he pulls away from your feet. You’re at a loss for words when he proceeds to lie down on the table beside you. He gropes your breast quickly and leans over to give you a surprisingly chaste peck. The look on his face is a smug one but his eyes say something unknown to you, soft and obsessive all at once. It’s as if he knows something you don’t.

“Now sit on my face, claim your new throne, princess.”

You don’t know how long he keeps you hostage there, your cunt soaking him as he devours you to the bone. He doesn’t let you become too relaxed, nipping your clit as he sees fit and clawing the skin of your ass. Eventually your gut aches and though at first you think you’re about to cum already, the second heartbeat in your clit feels different. You come to a horrifying realization that you need to relieve yourself.

“H-husband, what the fuck- I… I need to pee.” You’d rather be dead than doing what you are and saying what you are, but nature calls.

“Yes, that’s it.” He growls and digs his nails into your ass, jigging the globes in his hands before sharply slapping them. “Piss all over my face, get me wet with it like a good wife.”

The shriek you let out when you do just that is abhorrent. Your legs shake as you spray hot pee on your husband’s skin, the gold mixing with the white of your simultaneous orgasm as it drips down his body. You try to move off of Feyd but he tightens his grip on your ass and yanks you back down. The sensation of a hungry mouth desperately sucking the fluids from you drives you wild.

“You have…… fuck- y-you have to stop, hah- i’m going to break.” You sob.

He chuckles into your piss covered pussy and then pulls away to speak, “Then break, a wife of House Harkonnen doesn’t need to be put together.”

You think you hear him say something about using his blade on your body later, but that might just be your own perverted idea.

560 notes · View notes

iloveaustinelvisandmannymore · 1 year

Text

His girl.

Pairing; Austin!Elvis x reader

Warning: STEP-INCEST! Yandere Austin!Elvis, Creampie, Forbidden love, Asshole boyfriend, Love confessions, Slut-Shaming, Forced filming, Mentions of murder, Gagging, Fingering, Forced cleaning, Innocent kink, Squirting, Humiliation kink, Meanie Elvis/loving Elvis, Innocent and naive reader, Dacryphilia.

Summary: You were Elvis Presley's little sister, his step-sister but it still counts! When your parents left to have their honeymoon vacation they left your big brother Elvis in charge and he swore that it was his job to protect you, even if it meant from yourself..

You tried to hide your excited smile as your parents told you about going on their honeymoon your brother leaning against the entrance of the dining room, his eyes bore into your happy buzzing self but you just ignored him. You were so happy, you can finally show your boyfriend that you were a woman and not a prudish little girl! You could finally show him that you were serious about him! "And Elvis is in charge while we're gone." Your mother broke you out of your daze 'What?' "But Mama I can take care of—" you started to protest but the feeling of your big brother's warm big hand on your shoulder stopped you "Don't worry Ma'am, I'll keep er safe." Elvis smiled, his charming smile that could make the toughest woman swoon and your mother did just that.

'Okay it's a minor setback but I'll think of something' you thought with determination, you promised to show Johnny that you loved him, and you couldn't go back now.

God, you were just cute, with that little pout, Elvis would do everything to make you happy, you were so precious and innocent unlike most of the women of your age, he wanted to protect you but some twisted part of him wanted to corrupt you, having you under him, mewling and moaning, make you his wife, his woman but he couldn't you were his little step-sister and he couldn't betray his father like that. You and Elvis waved goodbye to your giddy mother and father, once they were out of sight you headed up to your bedroom, saying you wanted to talk to your best friend barely staying to hear what your brother had to say in the matter. You called your boyfriend to tell him the great news and as expected he was just as excited about it as you were, he said he'd be there in 15 mins, which give you enough time to get ready.

Elvis knew something was up but he wanted to trust you, really just a nagging feeling kept bugging him. It got too much he decided to see what his good little mama was doing but nothing could prepare him for the anger he felt as moans and groans left your closed door which by the way broke a rule he placed in his house. Elvis took a breath and pushed the door open to peek in and if he thought he was angry before then what he was feeling was undeniable rage. Your limp-pencil-dick boyfriend was thrusting into you in a sloppy frenzy, close to cumming and you were obviously disappointed, unsatisfied, and miserable. He slammed the door open, you screamed out in shock and horror at seeing your handsome brother "What the fuck man?!" your boyfriend turned to curse elvis but stopped at the cold-deadly stare he wears "Camera." He asked cool, calm, and collected, the Calm before the storm "Closet." you answered with a shaky tone "You, go get it, yar goin' film how A man pleases a woman." Elvis order your boyfriend, and he didn't take it so well "Like hell!" Johnny shouted and that was it, Elvis walked over grabbed your boyfriend by the back of his shirt, and yanked him off you, his other hand gripped around johnny's throat "You wouldn't want everyone to know what ya did to that girl? that's right I know." Elvis whispered so you couldn't hear "So be a good lil' boy and get it."Elvis shoved Johnny towards the closet with much force that your boyfriend's face smacked into the door before he stumbles back to get the camera while Elvis took his clothes off slowly as if to tease you like he knew..

As if he knows your feeling about him, the dreams you daydream, the dream of being his cute housewife and stay-at-home mother, going on dates, that he knew you didn't want this to stop, you wanted him. Elvis loomed over your naked body, his clothes laid on the floor and his hardened cock lay against your pelvis bone, Johnny held the camera in his shaky hands. Elvis jerked himself just a bit before pushing into your wet pussy, how that fuck got you wet he didn't know, all he knew is each little inch was driving him mad, once he was balls in, he let everything out, "You're a fuckin' slut, ya know lettin' any man fuck ya? You're mine" He growled, his blues are now black and his skilled hips began to work. You moaned loudly as tears glossed over your eyes from the pleasure of each pump of his hips, his pace was fast and hard, but calculated and his cock hit all the places you didn't know you had, was this what sex was supposed to feel like "More!" you cried, gripping the bed sheets, suddenly Elvis's fingers were pushed down your throat, enough to make you gag around them "You don't give orders lil' girl." he hissed, pounding downwards into you. Johnny gulped, feeling sick that he was getting turned on, seeing his toy being fucked by Elvis Presley, her step-brother, he zoned onto where you and elvis was connected.

You sucked on his fingers, like that of a lollipop, eyes hooded, looking at him with those innocent eyes, Elvis's chest rumbled with a groan, he pulled his digits out, replacing them with his burning hot tongue, his pointing finger rubbed your clit in short, fast circles. You whined in the kiss, the knot in your stomach snapped, your back arched and your hips jerked, walls fluttering, sucking for everything he could offer. Elvis throws back his head, a deep, gaspy groan left his throat, and his hips stuttered. A heat poured into your already warm walls.

You let a small protest when Elvis slipped out of you, the feeling of him inside was addicting and you didn't want that to go so soon, your protest didn't last as Elvis sat beside your slight sweat-coated body, and parted your cum leaking folds, showing the camera his cum dripping out, letting go of your outer lips and sliding his two fingers down your clit and into your cunt, nothing could have prepared you for that was to come next. His digits fucked into you, like a hard-working machine, repeatedly hitting your g-spot, your eyes widened when Elvis bend over and bit-nippled your sensitive clitoris. A deeper pit took over you, screaming, tears flowing, you squinted all over the recorder and Elvis's face, still, even with your slick dripping his face held a smug smirk at your boyfriend.

Elvis got up and, licked away one of your tears "Such a pretty crybaby." He praised you, kissing your temple. His eyes turned to your boyfriend "Clean her." he spoke sternly, "S-sure just let me get a rug." johnny put the video record on a dresser and went to get a rug "With your tongue." johnny stopped mid-step "What?" he turned to look at Elvis in pure disbelief "Clean. Her. With your tongue. Now." your boyfriend gulped and nodded, rushing to get in between your legs. His tongue dragged up your clenching opening, catching your and Elvis's mixed cum on his tastebuds, johnny squeezed his eyes shut as he sucked and licked your cunt clean of cum.

Johnny winced moving from your legs, his cheeks got with embarrassment and humiliation "Can I go now?" he asked looking at the floor, "Sure go ahead," Elvis smiled, wiping his face with a wet rug from the bathroom, "Tell anybody about and I'll kill ya" Elvis whispered, grabbed his arm on his way out, johnny's face paled and he nodded fearfully as Elvis jerked his arm away, once he was free, he ran straight home. Elvis walked over and smiled at your passed-out form, cleaning your pussy with the other side of the rag, and laid beside you "I love ya lil' mama." he kissed your forehead, he was of course, gonna call his Memphis Mafia to deal with your sad excuse of a 'boyfriend' but for right now it was just him and you.

Just how he liked it.

@kiankiwi @18lkpeters @louisejoy86 @chasingwildflowers @crash-and-cure @plasticfantasticl0ver @galaxygirl453 @edgeofrealitys-blog, @flwersgarden.

#elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis smut #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #elvis 2022 #yandere!elvis x reader #austin elvis imagine #yandere austin butler x reader #tw:incest

1K notes · View notes

crash-and-cure · 11 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

----------

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.

Taglist

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

@j-v-9-2 @eliseinmemphis @dkayfixates @immi547 @thatbanditqueen @marriedtoeddie @cuteejeno @itlover8000 @isthlsfate @mgparker @thatbanditqueen @softsatnin @literally-just-elvis-fics @adaydreamaway08 @airyx0x0 @domoron @artlover8992

#elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #austin!elvis #austin butler #yandere #yandere!elvis #yandere!austin!elvis #yandere x reader #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis movie #elvis presely smut #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis fic #austin butler x reader

799 notes · View notes

wanderingelvis · 1 year

Note

Your Elvis fics are so good, you capture his personality so well!! I was wondering what you'd think about naive/innocent!reader going out of their way to try and prove they're not naive or innocent. Do you think Elvis would catch on to the attitude/personality change and if he did, would he reprimand them? <33

I adore this!! He would totally reprimand them and put them back in their place!

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻 word count: 3,486

pairing: 70s!Elvis x Innocent F!Reader

Note: This was super inspired by 'love song' by Lana Del Rey, I honestly think it captures what this whole imagine is all about

warnings: slight yandere themes, orgasming, just a lot of smut, manipulation, swearing, overstimulation, punishments - if there are anymore i've missed out, just message!

You chewed your lip as you watched from afar, the other female dancers pander to the men at the party. You were sitting in a large armchair that engulfed you, next to the piano, waiting for Elvis to return from a conversation with Jerry, or Billy, or whoever it was that had some sort of issue that only Elvis could ever figure out. Elvis had told you to stay put and you submissively nodded, but you couldn't help but let your eyes wander as you noticed the little crowd across the room.

You recognised the women, some of them were the backing dancers and singers at RCA, where you'd been for quite some time now. In fact, as you watched for a little longer, you realised they were all with the male dancers, backing singers and band members. You knew most of them by name but never been part of their circle really, even though you desperately wanted to be.

Little did you know that there was a reason for that. No, it wasn't because you were a ditzy little thing that wasn't the most socially aware, it was because of Elvis. You adored Elvis and everything about him, seeing right through the celebrity to the person that he was and you really, truly, loved him.

But you just didn't see the other side of Elvis, the possessive, manipulative and strategic side of him that would ensure you would never even dream of going to anyone else for anything other than him.

Unbeknownst to you, Elvis had his Mafia make it abundantly clear to anyone that tried to approach you, they needed to reconsider and as a result, you often felt a little lonely. You didn't know that Elvis was isolating you for his own gain, so you enjoyed your time with Elvis and you were grateful that he showed you some sort of friendship.

You curiously watched on at all of their laughter and you noticed the way that the men looked at the women with desire as a result of their flirtatious pandering. You'd overheard them before in dressing rooms, all talking about how they planned to seduce someone and the latest relationship updates that they would all share with each other and each time, you couldn't help but feel that pang of insecurity that you just didn't really understand this world.

You were desperate to prove yourself, show that you weren't the silly little girl that everyone treated you as, even if you were and you thought that Elvis would rather surround himself with someone experienced, who knew what they were doing and could please him in all the right ways.

And before you knew it, you were walking across the enormous room, right into the wolf pack of men and women. You were welcomed with open arms, everyone else being a little too liquored up to see any sense.

You were quickly pulled into a mans lap, making you giggle nervously at the strange and sudden affection. You felt a little anxious in all honesty, you were really out of your comfort zone but you just wanted to feel like a girl that Elvis wanted, you wanted to impress him so badly and try to prove to him that you weren't as innocent as he thought.

You sipped on your Cola as you sat uncomfortably in the mans lap as his hands trailed your legs, making you jolt in surprise every time he teasingly pinched your skin. You bat the mans hand away after the fifth time, trying to move the large hand away from your exposed thigh which was starting to make you very uncomfortable - maybe you weren't cut out for this lifestyle. It was only when you looked up that you were met with those all-too-familiar steel blue eyes from the other side of the room, by the grand staircase.

You beamed over at him before your smile faded as you realised the expression on his face was one of intense anger. You'd never seen Elvis angry before, at least never directed at you, and it was a scary sight.

The big man stormed over to you, grabbing your little wrist in his large, his coarse hand pulling you up in one quick motion from the other mans lap, causing a small yelp to leave your soft lips.

"Goddamn party's over, baby." Elvis whispered, sending a shiver down your spine at his cold tone, you looked up at him nervously with those big, round eyes that usually made him melt, but Elvis' face was like stone.

Before you could make sense of the situation you were being led out of the building by Elvis, taking you straight to his lavish limousine that was always on hand to take him wherever he or the Mafia wanted.

Despite his anger, that didn't stop him from putting your seatbelt on for you, he wasn't planning on comforting you or holding you on the ride back to the hotel but that didn't mean he didn't care about you being safe.

You anxiously waited as you heard him growl some sort of goodbye to the Mafia before the opposite car door swung open and he got in, dominating the entire back space of the limousine as he hollered at the driver to go back to your hotel before putting up the partition and sinking back into his seat.

"Twirlin' that little ass for all those men, knowin' damn well it'd make a fool outta me." Elvis growled, making tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes.

"Don't be mad, please, I was just, I just wanted you to prove I'm not stupid or innocent or anythin', I was just tryna impress you," You said with your voice trembling at the rage that was coming from Elvis.

"Impress me? Honey, you got a funny way of tryna impress me, talkin' about things you know nothin' about, pretending you're some goddamn little harlot." Elvis chided, rubbing his temples.

"I leave you alone for two goddamn minutes and you're on another mans lap, playin' like a lil' slut?" Elvis scoffed, as hot tears began trickling down your pink cheeks. "What I gotta do, Y/N? Do I gotta goddamn babysit you all damn day? Have one of the guys watch ya in case you go off and start grindin' on some old man's lap huh?"

"N-No, I, no Elvis, no-" You stuttered, trembling at the reaction he was giving you.

"What then baby? You too much of a horny lil' girl that you gotta find some man's fingers somewhere huh?" Elvis practically seethed.

You shook your head slowly as tears continued to trickle. Elvis knew how upset you were but he didn't really care, he knew you needed to be put in your place, reminded that being the sweet precious little darling that you were was exactly what made him love you so.

"I, I j-just wanted y-you-" You hiccuped adorably. If Elvis wasn't trying to teach you a lesson right now, he'd scoop you up in his arms and rock you until you fell asleep, your little body was clearly too tired to cope with all of these emotions. You knew too that if Elvis held you, even for a second, you'd be out like a light with your head on his shoulder. But that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"Go on then, Y/N, use your words and tell me exactly what you want from me. Tell me what you want me to do to you, I wanna hear you say it." Elvis teased intensely.

Your breathing was so erratic, the nerves running through your body, making you tremble at the big mans words. You knew what he was asking you to answer, you knew he was commanding you to name sexual acts and you both knew that you didn't have a clue about any of them.

"I d-don't know the words, I-I'm sorry," You said softly, sniffling and looking down, feeling embarrassed at how naive you were and the humiliation you felt from obviously humiliating Elvis.

"See Y/N? You're a goddamn baby, my goddamn baby." Elvis muttered with frustration laced in his tone. He knew you were too naive to understand the glamorous and sordid world around you. "You think that man, that man with his wretched hands all over ya, you think he woulda cared aboutcha? Woulda taken ya slow? Woulda loved ya like I do?" Elvis said, his eyes dark as they remained trained on you.

You shook your head again, hiccuping once more.

"Then why, why did I have t'see my yittle girl gettin' all loved up in another mans lap?" Elvis exasperated.

Just like a little one, you unbuckled yourself and crawled onto Elvis' lap, straddling it, practically begging for his affection, love and forgiveness. He knew you meant nothing by it, deep down he really did, but that was the point. If Elvis had left you alone for any longer, you wouldn't be able to take care of yourself, wandering into the arms of men that wanted nothing more than to tarnish and spoil you, make you rotten and treat you like meat.

You really were trying to impress him, make him see you as a grown up, one that he would find desirable like all of the other girls that you heard he would be found with. You just wanted to be like one of those girls, you just wanted to fit in.

"Actin' like a lil' slut in front of all those people..." Elvis muttered, rubbing his temples, reliving the sight he'd come downstairs too. Your eyes continued to well up, your whole face a glossy shade of pink as Elvis scolded you. You hated the names, you really did, all you had in your heart was love for Elvis and you hadn't meant to hurt him, you just wanted him to love you.

"Don't call me names!" You snapped back, hot tears streaming down your flushed cheeks and your black eyeliner smudged in the corners. "It's not nice! Stop it!" You choked, your voice cracking and growing softer, realising that you'd just gotten all worked up.

Elvis lifted his hand up, holding your face tightly in his hand his fingers pushing in your cheeks, making your lips push out sweetly and your tears slip quicker. His cold, harsh rings pinching at your skin as it flared up, feeling hot at the tears wracking through you as your tear coated, wet lashes fluttered to stare directly at the man.

"It's very simple, Y/N," Elvis said cooly, in an almost scary tone, his demeanour calm and in control as you trembled, the power inbalance noticeable. "I won't call you names if you don't act like them." Elvis said gently.

"I just, I just wanna be like the girls that y-you like, that guys like. D-Denise and Kathleen always talk about what they do and e-everyone likes them, and I just w-want to fit in," You paused to catch our breath, your face feeling all clammy as Elvis continued to hold your jaw, tears of yours slipping onto his rings and fingers. "I j-just thought, I just, I just thought you'd like it like t-that. M'sorry Elvis, m'real sorry." You choked.

"Did ya even understand what they were talkin' about back there? The things those men were suggestin' about you?" Elvis asked and you shook your head gently, confirming exactly what Elvis thought.

"J-Just wanna make you feel good, wanna just feel good." You whined sweetly, you were so needy and desperate for love, Elvis' love, and he just adored that about you.

"Wanna feel good, hm baby?" Elvis teased, you nodded desperately, just craving his forgiveness and affection. "Move your leg then pretty girl, go on," Elvis said, grabbing your thigh and positioning you so that you were straddling just one of his thighs. He loved how malleable you were, being able to turn you into whatever he pleased, his own little doll.

You were straddled on his thigh, your pretty little dress bunched up and your white underwear ever so slightly exposed. You could feel it, the soft material of his trousers only blocked by the thin panties that covered your slit. You blinked up at Elvis, despite being on his thigh, you still needed to look up at him slightly.

"You wanna be my good girl again, hm?" Elvis mused, exploiting your obvious need for his attention, he knew you'd do anything he told you to do and by God, he knew he was stronger than any man on Earth, knowing that he hadn't spoiled you yet when the temptation was just so great.

You nodded enthusiastically as he gazed down at you, you were still a mess from getting yourself all worked up, but you'd take any bit of praise he'd give you. "Uh huh!" You whined, almost frantically.

"Follow my movements baby, I'm gonna show you how t'feel good." Elvis said cooly, holding both of your hips firmly in his grasp, the cold rings nipping at your exposed flesh from the detailed cutouts of the sparkly dress you had on. "Eyes on me little, don't take yer eyes off me." Elvis commanded and you nodded, gulping at the seriousness in his voice.

Elvis began to move your hips in a circular motion, moving you back and forth on his thigh whilst rotating your hips at the same time, causing friction between his thigh and your sweet spot. You felt so overwhelmed after the nights events, your heartbeat was going a million miles an hour, whilst your whole body was on edge just from the confrontation alone, let alone what Elvis was now having you do.

But Elvis was there to guide you, as always, to take care of you and make you feel good. His eyes stayed on you like a hawk, watching as your beautiful big eyes grew wider at the sudden sensation you were feeling by your heat.

"F-Feels..." You uttered angelically, not quite managing to get your words out as Elvis continued to move your hips.

"Tell me how it feels, honey." Elvis growled.

"I-I can't," You panted, your chest rising and falling quickly as your eyes fluttered.

"Yes, you can little one. I know you can. God didn't give you that pretty lil' mouth of yours for you not t'use it. Now, use your words, tell me how you feel." Elvis said, gripping you tighter, making a sharp gasp leave your lips.

"Feels, feels good," You said, chewing on your lip as you felt slick starting to form between your crotch and Elvis' pant leg.

You'd never felt a sensation quite like this before, the pleasure was becoming overwhelming. Elvis hadn't wanted to touch you, not yet anyway, he didn't think you were ready just yet, but your little act earlier in the night made him realise that all you needed was him and him alone.

Despite Elvis setting the pace as he gripped your hips, you couldn't help but quicken it, grinding your cunt on Elvis' leg, desperate to put more pressure on your sensitive nub. "Look atchu, a little mess," Elvis cooed, you hadn't taken your eyes away from his once. "Followin' instruction like such a good girl, gettin' yourself all messy and feelin' good." Elvis said, brushing away hair that was sticking to your temples from the tears and glistening skin.

"M'good girl, not bad." You whimpered, writhing with pleasure, the feeling being so foreign yet so inviting. You couldn't focus, your mind feeling fuzzy and your body feeling like it was on fire. You just wanted to be good for Elvis, it's all you wanted, it's like he'd trained you into just wanting pleasure from him.

Elvis nodded as he lifted your little dress higher, putting your panties on full display, the damp, wet spot getting larger as your continued to grind on Elvis. He loved that he had this power over you, his little baby. "That's right dolly, you're a good girl, I know that, I ain't mad no more honey, jus' keep gettin' yourself wet like that." Elvis encouraged, watching as your breaking point was approaching.

You nodded, the mixture of Elvis' words of praise and the friction on your heat gradually becoming too much, your head bobbing as your body jolted up and down Elvis' thigh. You leaned your head back, relaxing into his hold, your body succumbing to his guidance as your eyes drifted closed, you could barely think.

"Did I say you could close your eyes, kid?" Elvis growled, making your eyes snap open, obeying his words immediately.

He knew what he was doing to you, overwhelming you, you were clearly overstimulated, barely coping with this new found rush of pleasure from such a simple act. He knew you wouldn't be able to go much longer, but he didn't care, it was worth getting you all worked up and upset just to see how pretty you look when you're trying to pleasure yourself on him.

"Such a pretty sight honey, watching you look so needy n' desperate fr me, you're so beautiful, shit," Elvis praised, his switching from a commanding cold tone to a loving one, confusing you, adding to your poor, wracked state.

"Tummy, tummy feels," You whined between panted breaths, your tummy feeling like it had butterflies and knots in it all at the same time. You couldn't cope with the sensations consuming your little body, it was all too much for a sweet thing like you to handle. "W-What's happening?" You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes as you looked up at Elvis, feeling so vulnerable as you humped his thigh, trying to apply as much pressure onto your soaking cunt as possible.

Elvis smirked, he thought you looked adorable, looking all sweet and dumbfounded from the overstimulation he'd caused you. You just looked so pretty when you cry.

Elvis couldn't help but coo soft praises at you, knowing it would go straight to your head and make you feel all fuzzy, "You're my good girl, aren't you? So good for me, aren't you? So obedient, lettin' me do what I want t'ya, no one else is ever gon' touch you like this, are they?" Elvis chided.

You nodded through your tears, reaching your high, the bundle of nerves in your slick covered panties throbbing at the words coming out of Elvis' mouth.

"Only you, I wanna be o-only with you, only, only you." Your nonsensical whimpers making Elvis let out a small moan himself.

The funny feeling in your tummy became all too much and you started to cry as your body trembled, your eyes seeing stars as a warm feeling rushed through you, your panties getting soaked through entirely, with the wet white cotton becoming see through for Elvis to see the plush pink skin that'd been grinding on his trouser leg to the point of overstimulation. He knew you were overwhelmed but he couldn't help but be proud of you, you're his innocent little thing and you deserved that bit of pleasure.

It was all a little too much for little you to cope with, your body collapsing forward into Elvis' chest as he wrapped his big, strong arms around you, comforting you. "I've gotchu, I've gotchu, you did so good little one, pleasurin' yourself like such a good girl," Elvis cooed, hushing the whimpers and mewls coming from you as you buried your face in his chest, trying to gather your composure.

"W-What happened?" You practically whispered, feeling all sensitive and shy at your clear display of desperation. You stayed cuddled tightly in Elvis' hold, resting your head on his chest as he stroked your hair, trying to soothe you.

Elvis chuckled. "You had your first orgasm baby." He pointed at the large wet patch on his trousers. "That's you baby, that's your orgasm." He whispered in your ear, making you shiver. You couldn't help but blush, wiping away the last of the tears, feeling all hot and embarrassed. "Such a good girl, such a needy girl hm? Orgasming just from rubbing your pretty little cunt on me? Won't be long before you're taking my fingers, darlin'." Elvis uttered lowly, making you squirm in his hold so that you were now resting your back against his chest, looking forward like he was at the rest of the lavish limousine. You felt so small in his lap, but so protected and looked after. You grabbed his hand, touching his long fingers with your own little ones, tracing over his hands delicately, trying to imagine what it would feel like but it was all too much for you to cope with right now, you were exhausted and Elvis could tell.

"You can close your eyes now baby, you did a real good job little one, m'so proud of you." Elvis praised softly, using his spare hand to rub circles on your tummy. You barely had the strength to nod but you managed it, sinking into him as you let the weariness take over you.

No matter how much you tried to prove it, Elvis knew you were as innocent as they come, and you certainly came.

taglist: @dandelionxbby @littleloveysworld @lana-4life @kxnnxy @mygreenlights @domaniquessidehoe @reddie-freddie @meetmeatyourworst @octobers-snow @slimerspengler @elvisbf @presleyhearted @fallinlovewithurlove @eliseinmemphis @gothicphantom @sassanoe @hollbunn @ellie-24 @elvispresleywife @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @billhaderstan420 @wwebaby657 @wolywolymoley @ccab @librafilms @presleyenterprise @imaginationlast @vintagegirl2005 @prompted-wordsmith

#elvis #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #elvis smut #elvis presley #elvis fluff #elvis x y/n #yandere elvis #elvis x you #70s elvis #60s elvis #innocent reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis angst #austin butler elvis

890 notes · View notes

candy-ishu · 1 year

Text

apple pie (pt 3)

pairings: yandere!austin!elvis presley x female reader

summary: it’s been a year since elvis took you from everything you’ve ever known. he keeps you trapped in graceland as his perfect little housewife, knocked up and docile, just the way he likes. as your baby’s arrival date comes closer you become determined to get your child away from your monster. whatever the cost may be.

warnings: rated M for yandere themes, dark themes, obsessive behavior, abuse of power, age gap, elvis is in his early-mid 30s, reader is in early 20s, elvis is mysognist in this, mild smut, oral male receiving, spanking, daddy kink, reader calls elvis daddy when he’s angry, belting, pregnancy, escape attempts, murder, violence, unhealthy relationship, branding, toxicity, abusive relationship, graphic content.

note: hi! omg i’m so so sorry this took so long to release i have been incredibly busy with school and testing but i finally have the opportunity to release this so thank you all for your patience and support. this chapter is very graphic and i want to clarify that i do not condone any type of this behavior in real life and this is all fiction. hope you enjoy! <3

word count: 2,968

part one part two part three

“baby you must think i’m a damn fool.”

it feels as though someone just poured ice water over your head. you feel your whole world crumble to your feet with those seven words. you want to crawl out the window and run until you can’t see the god-awful town anymore, but you’re frozen, petrified before your husband.

“e-elvis…i can explain-”

“tell me what there is to explain.” the man snarls. his voice is steady and quiet with an intensity that makes you want to burst into tears. “what is there to explain y/n? you wanna explain why you tried to take the baby from me? or maybe you wanna explain why you disobeyed my rules in my own house?” he takes a long puff from his cigar before grinding it into the ashtray on the kitchen counter. he walks over to you slowly and grabs your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. you don’t dare to move.

“i don’t want your explanations. i know exactly what you did. you really were doin’ well, i’ll give you that. it’s a shame that little tommy doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

the wave of realization hits you like a tsunami. you clench your jaw in anger. how could you be so stupid? you placed your trust in a damn seven-year-old. the thought of the desperation that led you to that decision hurt, but the fact that your idiotic decision was why you were back at the mercy of elvis presley hurt even more.

“but elvis…” you pleaded, voice now small and shaky.

“give me what’s in your hand.” he demands, voice steady and quiet.

“daddy please-” you attempted, using his favorite nickname to try and lessen his anger.

“GIVE ME WHAT’S IN YOUR HAND.” he roars. you shakily hand him your ticket through teary eyes and look down in shame as he snatches it from your weak grasp.

he laughs quietly as he reads the small slip of paper. “mississippi? what the hell were you plannin’ on doing there? a new mother with no money, no work experience and no husband, you and that baby would be dead within the first week. awfully selfish of you, doll.” he tears the ticket up right in front of your face, and with every rip of paper you feel your heart shatter some more.

each torn piece of paper falls to the floor and seemingly just to rub it in some more, the man orders you to sweep up the paper and throw the pieces into the fireplace before meeting him in the living room for your punishment.

you try so hard not to cry, but in the end you can’t stop the tears that flow from your eyes and splatter onto the torn-up paper you collect in your hand. this was all your fault. your baby would grow up in a household with no love, with a father that saw it and it’s mother only as property, as little moving pieces in his messed up game. your baby would have to grow up like this and it was your fault.

as you watch the paper flicker orange in the fireplace you rub your stomach gently. an apology to your unborn child. the soft glow of the fire illuminates your stomach enough that you can see the small circular blotches left on your dress from your tears. “mama tried so so hard…” you whisper, hoping that somehow the little one can hear you. “mamas so sorry…”

your thoughts are interrupted by your husband yelling from the other room. “y/n! get in here before i pick you up and drag you in!” he growled. “comin’ elvis!” you replied frantically. you wipe the tears from your eyes, not wanting the man to see your shame and carefully walk into the living room.

when you walk in elvis already has his belt. you know what you have to do. it’s the same every time you’re disciplined. you bend over the arm of elvis’ recliner. a large veiny hand lifts up your skirt and pulls down your panties leaving you exposed and at the man’s mercy. your husband’s thumb runs up and down your slit. “you’ll get ten with the buckle and fifteen with the hand. you should thank the kid. this would be worse but the stress ain’t good for the baby.”

in your mind you wonder how much worse it could get.

“we know our numbers don’t we?” the man snarls demeaningly as he folds the belt and readys it in his hand. you bite your lip to keep from sobbing and give a soft nod. he adjusts the buckle and smacks your thigh before the first whip is dealt.

it burns.

“o-one!” you practically yelp out. the second hit isn’t any better than the first. elvis aims for your sit spots, you pray to god you don’t go into labor this week. it would be pain added on top of the already agonizing experience. “t-two!” you sputter out, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks.

every hit becomes more agonizing then the last. elvis lets out every last bit of rage he has on your poor abused bottom. the final blow is dealt, the belt seemingly whistles in the air as it comes down onto you. “T-TEN!” you sob. elvis puts the belt down and runs his flesh hand over your newly reddened skin feeling the warmth of the blood that’s rushing to it.

he lets out a sigh at your pained whimpers. “hush now, baby. you know, this hurts me even more than it hurts you. still, misdeeds need to be punished. you know that doll.”

hands clutch onto the fabric of the recliner as elvis runs his ring-covered hand over your ass, getting ready to strike it.

SMACK

the first hit burns even more than all of the belting combined. you squirm on the chair, attempting to get away from the source of the pain out of reflex, but elvis pins you back to the chair with his other hand. streams of tears fall down your cheeks as you blubber out a pained “e-eleven!”

the hits continue to get harder. with each loud SMACK your ass burns just a little bit more. you’re almost certain that once this is over you’ll be unable to sit for weeks. your poor bottom bruised and blistered like a child’s because you couldn’t just obey like a good girl.

for a moment you find yourself wishing you hadn’t tried to run and that’s even more terrifying than the punishment itself.

“naughty girl. tryin’ to run away from me like that.” elvis growls in a low voice as he delivers another smack to your abused butt. “you’re mine, you understand me? no one will ever love you like i will. you’ll stay here at graceland for the rest of your damn life. i can’t let you go out there and get hurt. what kind of husband would i be if i let that happen?”

“elvis i-”

you cut yourself off with a loud yelp as the man delivers another hit. “oh darlin’, there ain’t anything more to say about it. you’ll stay in this house, cooking, cleaning and giving me children until we both die. you belong to me. frankly, you’re lucky you’re pregnant. i would have broken your leg for tryin’ to run, but i’m sure you’ll need to be on your feet for the baby.”

you sob into the arm of the recliner as elvis delivers the last few blows to your backside. once he’s done, he pulls a box from his pocket and from it takes a cigar which he promptly lights.

“i hope you’ve learned your lesson. you took your beating good for daddy, let’s go to bed now satnin” the man murmurs. big strong arms pick you up bridal style. you can feel the hairs of his side burns poke at your face when he gives you light kisses. he finally lays you down on the bed and before you can sleep you hear a snap.

a shackle.

elvis shackled you to the bed.

“jus’ a precaution. i’ll let you sleep without it once i know i can trust you, but after this it won’t be for a while. you better get used to it.”

the man gives you one final kiss before he turns over and goes back to sleep.

you can’t sleep that night. all you can do is cry.

–

two weeks after your punishment you go into labor. the process is longer than it should have been, elvis insists on you giving birth at home. his personal doctor comes to your home and after 8 hours of what feels like a never ending agony, a baby boy is placed into your hands.

you look at him in awe as he’s cradled in your arms.

from his loud powerful wails, to his tiny button nose, to his beautiful blue eyes, you love every single part of this baby. he has elvis’ eyes, but you simply can’t bring yourself to care. something deep down inside of you that you simply couldn’t describe made you adore him.

you had to protect him. you had to get him out of here.

it’s crazy to think about running away after how miserably you failed the last time, but something about this baby boy reignites that spark inside of you. it didn’t matter how far you had to go, you’d climb mountains, cross oceans, go anywhere do anything, if that’s what it took to keep your baby safe then you’d do it.

your thoughts are sadly interrupted by the very man you were thinking about.

“well ain’t he the most precious thing…” you hear elvis softly coo. he takes the little bundle of joy out of your hands. you want so badly to take him back and never let him touch the boy again, but you’re aware that if you do that now, in the bloody state you’re in, you’ll only end up getting yourself or the baby hurt.

elvis cradles the small boy in his arms, softly rocking him. he gives his belly a light poke and for the first time in his life, the baby laughs.

you can’t help but smile at the man for invoking the noise. ‘the boy must be an angel.’ you think. maybe this was god’s way of telling you there was still hope for you.

elvis smiles and kisses the boy’s tiny forehead. “well then mama, what’s his name gonna be?”

you smile and almost whisper, “michael…”

a fitting name for your guardian angel.

“michael huh? sorta reminds me of a guy i once knew…but if that’s what you want darlin’, michael it is.” the man smiles and tickles his son’s belly again, invoking more of those magical giggles.

elvis tells you to wait while he puts the baby in the cradle and then comes back to get you. he lifts you up out of the bathtub where you had given birth and wraps you in a fluffy towel. he tries to give you a sponge bath but you ask to be taken to the baby, a bath can wait for now. you’re taken to your shared bed and the baby is placed into your arms. a familiar click of the shackle around your wrist is heard, and you hear elvis say something about going to clean up the bathroom. you hardly care what he’s doing, you’re too engrossed by the sight of your baby to think about anything other than him.

you sit up straight and adjust your breast so the baby can start nursing. before the doctor had left he had told you how to get the baby to latch onto a nipple. the baby coos and gurgles a bit before finally latching on with some help. he softly suckles on your teat and you gently stroke the soft wisps of hair on his head.

“i’m gonna protect you from him…i promise.” you whisper into his hair. you give him a soft kiss on the nose and watch as he nurses.

he was aware of what you were saying and he’d have no way to hold you to that promise when he was older, however you had to keep it. you’d make his life a better one than yours.

it had taken you three weeks to finally figure out the code to the gun safe. quick dangerous glimpses while you made breakfast of elvis’ hand movements and long hours of testing out code after code after code while he was at work had finally paid off. you had opened the combination lock and found a small 10 round pistol.

elvis’ guns weren’t in there when you looked. the man took those to work with him. that was fine with you, you highly doubt you could use those anyway. they were so big and so powerful the recoil would probably break your arm. the pistol would serve you just fine. all you needed was to blast open the locks on the door so you could run with michael.

you go upstairs and take your baby from his cradle. he’s sleeping soundly and isn’t woken when you pick him up. you stoke the back of his head and feel guilty that the gunshots were surely wake him up, however you know that you need to get him out of here for his own good. the thought of that pushes you forward.

the kitchen cabinets are raided and food is put into a small bag. enough for a three day journey. that would get you to the next town. it would be dangerous but you didn’t have many other options. you debate taking one of elvis’ cars but you decided against it. maintaining gas and taking care of the baby would be too difficult. it would be better just to go on foot.

finally you grab one of elvis’ large trench coats from the closet. you hated that it smelled like him however you didn’t have your own coat to wear so it was this or freeze during the cold desert night. you walk to the door and gulp. this was it. you’d never see this mansion again.

you let out a shaky sigh and kiss michael’s head before seven consecutive bangs shoot the locks off and the door swings open.

you drop the gun and start sprinting.

you run and run and run and run and run and you don’t dare look back.

you don’t stop running until you’ve absolutely collapsed from exhaustion. you’re out of town. you’ve made it into the next one. when you look behind you the town only looks like a miniature version of itself.

this is the furthest you’ve ever been from it in two years…

michael is crying and you do your best to shush him through pants. you see a gas station in the distance. it looks empty and abandoned. a good place to spend the night.

you pick up your food and you tread through the concrete until you step onto the cooler pavement. it feels nice. you sit and hush michael. you let im nurse and as he does you feel your vision growing darker. by the time he has latched off of your nipple you’re almost asleep. mind fuzzy and dazed from dehydration. you want to pass out but you can’t let youself. you have to looka after the baby. you shakily stand up on your sore legs and softly pat ont he boys back. he lets out a small burp and you smile.

“atta boy…” you whisper. “mama’s here. i’ve got you.”

he babbles a bit but eventually falls asleep on your chest. you eventually sit down and allow yourself to doze off too.

–

you wake up almost five hours later to the distinct sound of slurred curses and yelling. you’re confused. it was just you and it couldn’t be michael so what was-

your vision clears up from its sleepy haziness and your eyes snap wide open. you’re surrounded by two drunk men and they don’t look happy.

one was holding an alcohol bottle with the bottom of the glass broken off, and the other held a pocket knife. you could’ve sworn you heard one of them mumble something about raping you and killing the baby afterwards.

you clutch your son and realize that this space also belongs to them and they probably weren’t taking too well to intruders. one of them tries to grab your leg but your swiftly pull it back before he can. you shiver and clutch your baby for dear life.

was this the end? were you and him going to die here? if you did it would be all your fault. your baby would die because you had decided to run. how could you ever forgive yourself for something like that?

the men walked closer gripping their weapons and you cry and hold the baby close. the baby seems to have realized what’s going on now and has started wailing too.

michael… he would die an awful death…scared and it would be all your fault.

“i’m sorry…” you whimper through sobs. “i-i’m so so sorry.”

one of the men pounces on you and you prepare for the end. you shut your eyes tight and hold onto michael.

BANG. BANG.

you’re dazed as you open your eyes…you should be dead, but from what you could tell you and the baby were completely alive.

you look around you and both men lay dead on the floor. above them stands elvis looking murderous with his assistant jerry, behind him.

you feel your heart beat faster and fat tears well up in your eyes as your eyes connect with his.

“well well,” he growls. “look who i found.”

to be continued...

729 notes · View notes

ophelia-writes-stuff · 2 years

Text

♥ talk like an angel . oneshot ♥

. pairing : yandere!doctor!elvis x patient!fem!reader

. summary / request : after barely managing to escape with your life after a car crash, you're rushed to the hospital by medical professionals. elvis is assigned as your primary doctor, and you find yourself enjoying his company. he's sweet, caring, and also incredibly funny. though slightly off-put by some seemingly random gifts and love letters you get from an anonymous person, you manage to enjoy your time there. and yet, as time goes on, you grow increasingly unnerved as the letters and gifts get more personal, and to your horror, later come to the discovery that maybe elvis isn't quite as sweet as he portrays himself to be. (request from @itlover8000)

. notes / warning : depictions of a car crash, portrayals and mentions of death, survivor's guilt, dark/yandere themes that include stalking, manipulation, threatening, forced affection, allusions to kidnapping, swearing, physical abuse, intimidation, drugging, more may be added.

. word count : 6.7k

(♥) . . . request something . masterlist . taglist . navigation

It was a late summer afternoon, and the sun had only just set. You and your friends had been saved from the sweltering heat of Memphis, though it was still quite warm inside your car. Luckily, the cool wind blowing through the window saved all of you from the stickiness of the heat.

You and your friend Laura let out peals of laughter at Cindy's joke. You couldn't quite remember what it was about-- but nights like these typically went in that fashion. No one quite remembered what had happened a mere five minutes ago, much too focused on the present.

Cindy, too, joined in the laughter, eyes scrunching up in delight as soft giggles left her cherry-red lips. She was much too focused on her own laughter to notice a deer attempting to cross the road.

Eyes slowly returning to the street, Cindy let out an audible gasp as she rapidly slammed down on the brakes, all while mindlessly turning the car away from the poor animal.

You all but shrieked as the car promptly lost balance and swerved off of the street. It all went so quickly-- one moment you were on the road, giggling like idiots along with your friends, and in seconds, your world was turned upside down-- literally.

For many moments, you just hung in some uncomfortable position, wavering between consciousness and unconsciousness. Eventually, though, you did move, slowly-- perhaps too slowly-- unbuckling your seatbelt. You let out a displeased groan as your head promptly made harsh contact with the car's ceiling.

You stayed in that position for a while, too, the heat blazing from some unknown source slowly drawing you into a deep sleep. You didn't want to move-- felt as if it would take much too much energy and effort

And then, after regaining your barrings and realizing the situation at hand-- because, after all, your life was at stake-- you frantically unbuckled Laura's seatbelt, and then Cindy's. Their heads, too, hit the car ceiling, hard.

"Laura? Cindy? We need to get out of here..." Your voice hardly exceeded a whisper, much too weak to make any more sound. A series of coughs followed your statement, and you closed your now burning eyes-- as if it would help the situation.

You roughly shook their bodies in a futile attempt to wake them up, but found that they didn't move in the slightest.

"Laura!? Cindy!? Please! Please, I can't--" Realizing the weight of the situation, your eyes started to water. You wouldn't be able to drag them out of the car with you, and it was already on fire. If they didn't drag themselves out, they'd surely die.

Frantically, you clawed at Laura's ashy skin. Sobs racked your body. They needed to wake up.

Your breathing was ragged as you attempted to then wake up Cindy, but the heat of the blazing fire was hurting your skin, causing you to give up on the idea.

"C'mon guys-- I can't bring you guys out-- we-- we need to go..." Another series of coughs followed your pleas, and, eyes widening, you realized why they weren't responding.

It felt as though your body moved on its own as you dragged yourself out of the car, despite your desperate wanting to get back in as soon as possible to let your friends out-- despite knowing that, if you did, you'd be just as dead as them.

In moments after barely exiting the car and dragging yourself just off the road, you all-so-suddenly collapsed, your body no longer able to support your own weight. It made sense, too; you were sure that almost every bone in your body was broken. And you were just so, so tired.

Because all you felt was the heat radiating off the car, and your now burnt skin, and your aching bones.

The heat radiating off the car, your burnt skin, your aching bones...

You soon fell unconscious.

You woke up in an unfamiliar place.

A hospital, you'd soon come to realize, buzzing with doctors and employees from just outside your room.

"She's awake!" You heard a voice yell, followed by the presumable entering of another person.

"Leave me to her. I'll call you if I need any assistance," a male voice spoke. You couldn't yet see him, your eyes having not fully opened to accommodate any new light.

"Ms. L/n, I'm going to have to ask you to open your eyes, if you would be so kind," the deep voice then gently coaxed. Nodding slowly, you allowed your eyelids to open, and you blinked harshly at the bright lights shining above you.

"I can turn down the lights if you'd like?"

Nodding slowly, your lips curved into the faintest of smiles as the man did as he said he would.

Once your eyes had successfully adjusted to the softer lighting, you took notice of the man standing before you-- most likely a doctor, by the way he was dressed. Coifed, sleek black hair hung atop his angular head, and a small smile was planted on his lips. He looked no older than his mid-twenties.

"It's glad to see you in the land of the living, Ms. L/n. We weren't quite sure you'd make it," the man lightly joked, a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm your medical professional, Dr. Presley, but I'd prefer you call me Elvis. You were involved in a car crash 'bout a week ago, if you recall-- we got a call from someone who found your body near the site of the crash."

His voice then grew solemn, sympathy lacing his next few words. "Unfortunately, you were the only survivor. The other two didn't make it. 'm very sorry."

Although your recollection of the incident had been only but a hazy memory when you woke up, it all came crashing back at you at the mention of your friends. Your eyes quickly watered up with tears as you stared at the sheets of your bed shamefully.

"Laura and Cindy..." you mumbled, the memory slowly but surely coming back to you. Your hands then gripped the sheets tightly, as though they were an anchor.

Once your mind had fully registered the memory, your eyes widened. Your hands gripped the sheets tighter. Your voice barely exceeded a whisper as you spoke, "I did it, didn't I?" Desperation and guilt laced your voice as you said those words ever so quietly. "I killed 'em. I left them there to die--"

Elvis was quick to notice your almost incoherent mumbling, and all the more so to put an end to it. "You didn't kill them, Ms. L/n."

Your eyes wandered to his own. You shook your head in disbelief. He couldn't be right. You saw them-- they were in there. They couldn't move. If only you'd just been less selfish and saved just one of them! "No, you're wrong. I was there-- I saw them. I could've saved them-- I could have--"

Elvis knelt down and clasped your hand in his own. "Ya' couldn't have done anything. We ran procedures on their bodies. Even if you'd managed to drag 'em out of that car, they would've already been dead. They suffered too much trauma to have been saved by any doctor. You yourself only narrowly escaped with your life. You're incredibly lucky you're still alive. Be proud of that, that's what I say."

It was odd, to think that someone you'd just met could cool your nerves in so few sentences-- and even though you still felt guilty, Elvis certainly made you feel much better about yourself. Though you supposed it must have been part of the job-- he was a doctor, after all. Still, it was sweet-- he seemed to care about someone he barely knew.

"Thank you," is all you said in response, allowing your appreciative smile to speak for you. You were still quite exhausted. Elvis returned your smile warmly, before standing back up and walking further from your bed.

"Your family's been waitin' outside of here for a while. Ya' fine if I let 'em in?" To this, you slowly nodded, and Elvis swiftly exited the room. A silence permeated through the air for lingering moments, before the door swung open.

In came your worried mother and father. Your mother quickly rushed over to your bed, though she hugged you gently. You let out a small chuckle-- the best you could do without hurting your ribcage-- before she pulled away and smiled brightly in your direction.

Your father, stoic as ever, merely smiled at you, though you could tell from the new creases near his eyebrows and forehead that he may have been even more worried than your mother.

And then in came your boyfriend, who maintained a polite distance from you, though you could tell that, if your parents weren't there, he'd be much closer.

"Oh, Y/n! Me and your Pa have been so worried!" Your mother exclaimed, grabbing onto your father's shoulder for support. "We've been here night and day, I tell ya', darlin'-- every procedure, we've been there! We've just been so worried. We're so glad you're safe..."

The confession didn't help with the ever-growing guilt in your heart, and yet, in spite of your own feelings, you smiled warmly at your parents.

"Oh, and of course, this young fella's been here whenever he could be." Your mother pointed to your boyfriend, and you felt your heart swell in your chest at the comment.

"But we're just so glad you're safe... we were so worried..."

The rest of the interaction with your parents went on something like that until they eventually let you have some alone time with your boyfriend.

"Hey, honey. How's a' going?" Caring as ever, he sat at the foot of your bed and placed one hand on your leg carefully, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb through the sheets.

"Well-- everything just kind of... hurts." You let out a faint chuckle as your boyfriend stared at you sympathetically.

"Okay, I guess, I just," your voice dropped to a whisper as you continued, "I guess I just feel guilty. For, you know." You didn't want to utter their names-- felt as though doing so would make everything more real. The grief was still heavy on your shoulders.

Laura and Cindy were your two closest friends, and now they were gone, and you were left to fight the grief on your own. You felt angry at them, in a strange way, but you could never really be angry with them. You felt like you lost a part of yourself upon hearing of their deaths, and it hurt you. Even if you couldn't have saved them, you still felt such a pang of intense guilt that ate away at your flesh.

Because all you could wonder was, what if I had saved them? What if I had convinced them not to go to that restaurant?

What if...?

What if?

You hadn't even noticed you were crying until you felt strong yet gentle hands engulf your fragile figure in a soft hug, and you let out a soft sob into your boyfriend's shoulder as you leaned into it. "It's okay, honey. It's not your fault. I just wish I had been there too..."

Your family and your boyfriend, after much convincing on your part (as they needed to get back to their own lives and take care of themselves), did eventually leave, though not without promising to visit almost every day. Knowing you wouldn't be able to convince them otherwise, you nodded in defeat and offered each one of them a supportive smile as they left. You were sure your parents needed the sleep, anyway.

Life in the hospital was odd, but it was nice-- nicer than one would expect. Your doctor-- Elvis-- was kind and thoughtful, more-so than he needed to be, you liked to think. He'd often sit in your room during his lunch break and eat and chat with you, which you always appreciated greatly.

The both of you bonded over practically everything, and you found yourself growing quite fond of the man. Had circumstances not drawn the two of you together so late in your life, you would have openly admitted that, had you met him before, you would have most certainly been the closest of friends with him.

"I actually wanted to be a musician when I was younger."

After some gentle prodding into Elvis's passions, he finally told you about them.

"Oh yeah?" You titled your head, invested in his next response. "Why'd you become a doctor, then?"

To this, Elvis shrugged and sank into the seat beside you. "I tried my hand in the music industry, but I jus' don't think it was for me. My music wasn't half bad, but people didn't like the way I moved."

"The way you moved?"

"The way I danced-- I liked to wiggle my hips a little. The audience wasn't much of a fan. Figured I oughta get a safer job with better pay." He shrugged. "Here I am."

"So, what-- you just gave up on your dream?"

All but surprised by your comment, Elvis stared at you, eyes swimming with confusion. "Well, I gave it my best shot, it just didn't work out."

A mischievous expression twinkled in your eyes. "One try and then it's over? That sounds like giving up to me. How about this-- you sing me a song, and I'll tell ya' if I think it's good or not.

An awkward silence settled as Elvis made his decision. And then, slowly, he nodded, and closed his eyes, as if to think of something. You stared at him in wonder as he sang.

"And yes, I know how lonely life can be," his voice weak on the first few words, but quickly grew in strength.

"When shadows follow me, the night won't set me free," his voice sounded like honey, sweet and smooth as he sang every word.

"But I don't let the evening get me down, now that you're around me."

Upon his eyes reopening, you clapped, impressed thoroughly by his musical ability. "That was wonderful!" You praised earnestly. It surprised you that Elvis gave up on a dream like that-- with such a talented voice, it seemed like a waste.

Elvis merely stared back at you, a dazed expression on his face, before slowly smiling and accepting the praise. His voice was quiet as he muttered a quick thanks, before exiting and saying something about getting back to work.

It was early in the morning when you woke up and found a gift at the side of your bed, accompanied by a card with a stamp shaped like a heart. Curiously, you first read the card and found written into it:

I remembered you mentioning that you loved stuffed animals and the color blue, so I thought I'd get you this. Although it cannot express well enough just how much you have filled my heart as of late, I hope it can somehow relay the message.

With love, Yours Truly.

You then opened the gift to find a blue stuffed bear inside. Your heart warmed at the thought of your boyfriend leaving you such things-- let alone remembering such small details about you! Abashedly, you had to admit, you yourself weren't quite as good at retaining that kind of info, so it made you feel all the more special.

Later, when your boyfriend visited you that day, you thanked him for the gift, to which he confusedly explained to you that he did not, in fact, buy you a gift. You delicately changed the subject after that and managed to convince yourself that he must have simply forgotten.

And yet, you couldn't help but wonder how could he have simply forgotten something like that?

Regardless, you were thankful for the present and found your gaze lingering on it quite often.

It wasn't even a week that had passed by the time you got a second one.

You opened the envelope of the card to find-- not a card, but a letter, and in it, inscribed a heartfelt and meaningful poem. You couldn't help the smile that grew as you read it, and found yourself blushing at many of the comments written in it.

You then opened the present to find an opulent necklace, littered with the finest of diamonds. Now, this drew your attention. Of course, you knew your boyfriend's job had quite decent pay, but this must have been worth at least a few months of wages. And so, you had to wonder: how could he have gotten all that money?

You thanked him and asked him about it, and once again, he was as confused as ever, leaving you to predict that perhaps it was not he who had given you the presents. But then you had to wonder: if not him, then who?

Deciding to ask Elvis since he must have had some insight into the subject (after all, you doubted anyone was sneaking in and leaving you a present), during your shared lunch together, you inquired about the gifts. At the mention of them and your expressed lack of knowledge on exactly who was giving them to you and your initial belief of it being your boyfriend, Elvis grew quiet for a long, hard moment, before replying, "I really don't know."

Slowly nodding, confusion evident on your face, you allowed the topic to fizzle out into a different conversation with Elvis.

As weeks passed in the hospital you didn't receive any more gifts, though you had started getting into therapy for walking and using your limbs after so long, which you picked up relatively easily. Still, the nurses who specialized in the field ensured you were careful, not wanting to provoke your injuries whatsoever, which you supposed made sense.

After about a month or so passed, the nurses finally decided that you were ready to return to your home so that you could resume your daily life, to which you were more than glad. Other than bi-weekly checkups, you'd finally be free of the hospital that you'd been stuck in for ever so long.

"I'm gonna miss ya'," Elvis said, offering you a gentle hug. You rolled your eyes fondly as you accepted it, knowing full well he was being overdramatic.

"I'm still going to see you every week, Elvis. Twice."

Still, the goodbye left you feeling somewhat bitter, knowing you wouldn't be able to see Elvis daily from now on.

Life at home felt normal, in a sense. Of course, you weren't out and about quite as much as you'd been before the crash (and although you hated to think about it, it would make sense since your friends were gone), but it was nice to be able to live your life without the confines of a hospital.

Letting out a content sigh, you opened the door to your porch, keen on spending some time outside and getting some well-needed fresh air. That was, until you found a gift in front of the door.

Your brows laced together as you stared at the gift, and the letter on top of it, which so clearly resembled the ones you'd gotten at the hospital. You'd be a fool not to conclude that they were both from the same person.

Cautiously, you looked around you to see if anyone was watching-- because as paranoid as you may be, you were still getting love letters from an anonymous source who now apparently knew the location of your house-- before taking the present and card and slipping into your home, locking the door behind you.

Firstly opening the letter, you found another quite beautifully written love letter (this much, you had to admit), though what concerned you was what was written on the bottom.

To my dearest Y/n,

I know you love candies, I've seen you at that small bakery just down the street from your house, so I truly hope you enjoy this gift. I got it just for you.

You know, I find it quite odd how you wander around those stores and buy so little baked goods, but I suppose that's my purpose, and I in no way oppose that duty. I simply hope that someday we'll be able to go together, just so that I can make sure I buy your favorites.

With love, Yours Truly.

At the mention of the bakery you frequented, your stomach twisted with unease; you'd only gone there less than a day ago.

Once you opened the present, your heart only sank deeper into your stomach. Inside was a box of heart-shaped chocolates from said bakery-- a warm gesture, had you known who it was from at the very least.

But that was just it. You didn't. Whoever was sending you these knew both where you lived and where you went, which only unnerved you all the more.

A loud knock at your door quickly startled you out of your thoughts, and you quickly hid the chocolates and wrappers upon hearing your parents beckon for you. You'd forgotten that they said they were coming over.

The rest of the evening went by relatively calmly, your mind buzzing with worried thoughts and your parents cooling your nerves. Dinner was all but one of the best ones that you had, though you couldn't deny the sinking feeling in your stomach that grew upon saying goodbye to your parents.

Of course, you knew they'd drop everything and anything in the blink of an eye to stay with you had you asked, but you couldn't find it in your heart to ask them to do so-- they'd already given up so much for you.

And so, once they left, you quickly closed your door and locked it, and ensured all the windows to your home were locked, too. You didn't need any other things to keep you awake at night.

And yet, in spite of your trust in the blinds that covered your widows and the locks that sealed your doors, you simply felt exposed. And, sure, it was dramatic, but you simply couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched as your head hit the pillow and as you were slowly lulled into a deep sleep.

Despite your recent unease, life carried on as it always did. You had checkups with Elvis twice every week, your boyfriend would be over at your house constantly, making you dinner and such, and your parents would insist on visiting you nearly every day.

And yet, the ongoing buzz of the passing days was not enough to quell your buzzing mind and your thoughts of more pressing and recent matters.

The death of your friends was still something you felt the burden of, and regardless of the irrationality of the whole ordeal, you felt as though it was somehow your fault that they weren't still alive, living and breathing.

You also couldn't take your mind off the gifts you'd been getting, and the letters that were growing increasingly personal. They'd mention places that you'd been to mere days before and mentioned things about your past that not many were heavily informed on.

There were some nights when you'd go out and would find things like dresses and purses which you had all but glanced at the stores, and after about ten seconds of deciding whether or not you desired them to be your own, deemed them too expensive, but then later found them at your doorstep. Those types of gifts unnerved you incredibly, especially since they'd sometimes appear on your doorstep before you even came home.

There were also times that, after hanging out with your boyfriend or someone you'd met recently, the letters would lightly suggest that you stopped spending time with them, and would often go into detail as to why. And, although you didn't often listen to them, you certainly considered it.

You'd also considered calling the police about the issue several times, but what would you say? Hey, someone's been leaving me an excessive amount of presents in the past weeks. I don't know who they're from, so could you please track them down and tell them to stop? The question simply seemed preposterous.

And so, with a heavy heart, you kept it all to yourself-- only went so far as to suggest that your boyfriend stay the night with you so that you'd feel safer. Of course, you'd never tell him the real reason, only spun harmless white lies that you didn't quite need, anyway, as he was always willing to drop anything for you.

It was about an hour before noon when you went to get your presumably last checkup, and you were overjoyed. you'd finally be able to completely return to your normal life-- almost. Of course, you couldn't forget what you lost in that crash, but you were glad at the prospect of no longer having to visit the hospital, a place that constantly reminded you of your losses.

Walking into your designated room, Elvis turned around and smiled in your direction, and gestured for you to come closer. You obliged, and Elvis walked towards you and began running the normal procedures.

"You sure seem happy today," he remarked, to which you smiled wider.

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"It isn't because you're glad of gettin' rid of me, is it?"

As the question, a small giggle erupted from your lips as you shook your head.

More witty banter ensued as Elvis did your checkup, and you appreciated it-- his seemingly natural ability to make you forget your circumstances and to simply focus on the moment.

Once you were just about finished with your checkup, Elvis shot you a grin and a thumbs up that seemed to indicate for your departure, but none was such the case. Just as you waved goodbye and spun on your heel in an effort to leave, Elvis spoke, his voice quieter than usual.

“Hey, Y/n, I was actually been meaning to ask you something before ya’ left.”

Turning around at the statement you were all but taken aback at Elvis’s seemingly nervous demeanor. He’d never been anything short of confident since you’d met him, so you were curious as to what he was going to say.

“Shoot.”

Elvis cleared his throat before he spoke. “What do you think about… getting dinner sometime? With me?” He paused, cleared his throat. “A date.”

The question rendered you speechless for quite some time. Ever since you’d met Elvis, you’d assumed that he was married– if not already settled down with some children. After all, why wouldn’t he be? He was charming, kind, and you had to admit that he was easy on the eyes.

“Oh, um, Elvis, that’d be wonderful, but…” You shifted awkwardly in your place. You never liked delivering bad news. “I’m– I’m sorry, but I have a boyfriend.”

At the rejection, Elvis’s eyes flashed with an emotion that you couldn’t recognize and he opened his mouth as if to speak before it quickly snapped closed. Solemnly, he nodded and gestured to the exit.

You didn’t like saying goodbye to someone with such bitterness, but you knew no amount of solace or apologies would mend the situation. Truth be told, you had never expected Elvis to develop romantic feelings for you, and you felt utterly despicable for rejecting him after everything he'd done for you, but you knew it had to be done. You had a boyfriend, whom you adored, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Unfortunately, you later found that that wasn’t your decision to make.

A single letter was left on your doorstep the following morning.

There was no gift in sight, which both calmed your nerves while simultaneously sending them into an erratic frenzy.

You'd grown used to seeing the letters attached to some paper-wrapped box, but never had you seen one, alone on your doorstep.

You'd never noticed how dark the red of the heart-shaped stamp was, not until today. Or maybe it just wasn't that color until today. You didn't know, but you did have to admit that it did resemble the color of blood.

You shook your head at the thought of the ominous detail, successfully scattering your thoughts. You were merely overreacting.

And yet, your heart pounded fiercer than ever as you brought the letter over to your table. You were much too preoccupied with examining it to remember to lock your front door.

Slowly, fearfully, you opened the letter, sliding it out and taking a deep breath before reading it. Your breath caught in your throat as you did so.

Y/n,

I am truly very disappointed that you denied my proposal! I love you, as I am sure you must know by now, and it breaks my heart to see you choose him over me.

I realize now that I must take control of the situation. I had initially expected for things to go smoothly, but I suppose nothing goes quite as planned.

I'll see you soon.

With Love, Yours Truly.

You felt sick to your stomach. The letter slipped out of your hand, and you let it. Slowly walking backward, you recounted your interactions with Elvis.

But how could it have been him? He seemed so nice, and he seemed so respectful, too. And yet, looking back on it, it all made sense. From how he got your address to the fact that the gifts temporarily stopped when you brought the subject up to him--

You bumped into something warm.

You froze for a moment before you tried to quickly move away from it. Your attempt was futile, however, as the figure, much faster than you, wrapped one arm around your torso and the other rested firmly on top of your mouth, successfully pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You tried to let out some kind of scream-- a sound-- anything to alert someone that you were in danger-- but your voice was muffled by the figure's hand.

"Now, darlin', do you really think anyone's gonn' hear you?" Elvis's voice was deep as he whispered those words into your ear, the warmth from his breath sending a shiver down your spine. It sounded almost as though he was scolding you.

Your attempts to scream came to a halt and you felt a satisfied hum rumble from Elvis's chest. "Good girl."

To say that you were shaking would have been an understatement. You were trembling, your breathing ragged as your hands quivered. You were unable to do so much as to lean away from the man who held you ever so firmly in his grasp.

There was silence, for a long moment-- a silence that you did not dare to break.

"Y'know, Y/n, things could have gone by so much easier if you'd just gone out with me," Elvis then said, one of his hands idly toying with your clothing and brushing over your skin. You didn't even bother trying to pull away-- you knew you wouldn't be strong enough. "But now-- look what ya've done! You messed this entire thing up. This entire thing."

His hand traveled lower along your body, slowly, almost imperceptibly.

"I liked this dynamic-- doctor and patient? Would've liked to have kept that up."

Both of Elvis's arms then detached from your body, and he walked in front of your figure. He cupped your cheek and rubbed what would have been soothing circles along your skin, had the current circumstance been different.

"Oh baby, why'd you have to go choosin' that son of a bitch of a boyfriend of yours over me? Don't you know how much I've invested in ya'?" Elvis let out a scoff. "Probably more than he's made in a lifetime."

You didn't respond-- felt as if he didn't specifically want you to. Elvis paused, his anger slowly fizzling into an almost pleased sort of emotion.

"But it's fine. I took care of him, so you won't have to worry about him getting in our way. You hear that? He won't bother you no more."

At his statement, your eyes grew wide, having an idea of his implications. At your reaction, Elvis seemed to grin even wider-- as if your fear offered him even more pleasure.

"You look so pretty like that..." He then muttered mindlessly, his eyes slowly wandering to your lips. He brought his hand over to them and brushed his thumb over them. He smiled slyly, his eyes resembling that of a serpent.

And then, slowly, tenderly, he kissed you, and you let him-- kissed him back, even. It wasn't like you had much of a choice, so you gave in-- drank his invigoratingly sweet poison. You allowed Elvis's hands and tongue to roam your body as he did so before he deepened the kiss-- turned it into something hungry and desperate.

At that point, you tried to push him away, tried to stop this from becoming all too much all too soon, tried to gain some distance from him-- but his grip on your body suddenly grew firm to the point where you were sure you were going to get bruises by the way his fingers dug into your skin, and he bit down on your lip, hard, as if to scold you.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, he finally pulled away, but lingered inches away from your face. Unease crept up your spine as he stared at you, passionately, intensely, before saying, "Grab your things."

You didn't know what to say before Elvis pointed to your bedroom. You then simply nodded and ran upstairs. To both your surprise and delight, Elvis didn't follow. And so, heart palpitating in your chest, you walked up to your bedroom and closed the door as silently as you could before locking it.

You had to get out.

You quickly searched your bedroom for a phone of some kind-- anything to contact the police or the outside world and to alert them that you needed help-- but found that it was nowhere to be seen.

Your stomach sank. I need to get out of here.

Loud, heavy footsteps hit your ears as you searched for some different way out. They were slow, but calculated, and took their time between each step.

It was then that you realized: he was baiting you.

Still, you wouldn't let your moment go to waste. Your eyes flitted to your bedroom window.

Bingo.

You rushed over to it and unlocked it, before trying to pry it open. And yet, despite your efforts, it wouldn't budge. You pushed and pushed and yet it remained firm in place, strong as ever.

Oh god, you couldn't breathe. Why on Earth wouldn't it move-- the one time you needed it to open? You weren't oblivious to the footsteps coming closer as you tried to do anything to make the goddamn window open. You didn't care if you needed to break some bones on the way out-- you just needed to get the fuck out of here.

"Y/n?" Elvis's voice beckoned for you as he approached, like a predator teasing its prey. "You almost done in there?"

You didn't speak-- you couldn't speak. You were so close-- so close-- to being able to leave, to calling the cops, anything. And yet, it seemed as if the universe found it entertaining to taunt you with the impossible.

The footsteps were suddenly put to a halt, and Elvis knocked on the door. "You still in there?" His voice was calm, peaceful, in a way. It lacked any sense of urgency or worry.

It was then that you realized: you weren't getting out. You didn't know how, but you did know that, somehow, Elvis planned this-- after all, why would he be so calm in this situation?

Elvis tried to open the door, but the lock stopped him from doing so (one thing that actually worked in your household). You could hear him let out a small, quiet chuckle before he spoke, amusement prominent in his voice.

"Y/n, the window's locked."

At that simple statement, you froze. Your hands shook as you ceased all movements and just stood there in shock. How did he know? How could he see you?

Elvis knocked on the door once more which-- you had to admit, you almost found funny, because why would he offer you the courtesy of opening the door to your own bedroom and not the door to your own goddamn house?-- before saying, "Baby, would ya' mind lettin' me in?"

Maybe, if you could move, for fear you would have, but you couldn't. You only stared at the door in terror, unease settling uncomfortably in your stomach. You wanted oh-so desperately to move, to speak, anything, but you were paralyzed, trapped inside your own body and your own mind.

"Oh Y/n, c'mon now. I know you can open this door, and there's no way outta' that room." Your body finally released you from its firm grip of paralysis at that statement, and you were able to move once more.

And then, finally, you opened your mouth to speak. "Elvis...? Why are you here?"

Your voice was shaky, but the words managed to get through eventually. The fear was evident in your voice as you spoke. You stared at the door, afraid of what his answer might be.

"Baby, all I want is to take care of ya'. Isn't that all you've wanted? Someone to take care of you and to make you feel safe?" His tone was sincere, and you found yourself almost falling for his deception. And yet, you were no fool-- you were now aware of the duplicitous man he was.

Elvis let out a small, light-hearted laugh before continuing. "Now, why don't you open the door and let me in? There's nowhere else you can go." The ending sounded more like a threat than a reassurance. Still, you didn't open the door-- only hoped that by some miracle the moment would end.

This, as it turns out, was a large mistake.

Elvis's tone turned from soft to infuriated in a matter of seconds as he banged loudly on the door. "Y/n, you better open this goddamn door right now." You let out a small, panicked sound at the harshness of his voice as you curled up in a ball and closed your eyes, as if that could somehow make you feel safer or make him leave.

You didn't listen to what he said next, only heard the loudness of his words that banged against your skull. And then, the loud slamming of a door opening. You let out a pained cry as you felt rough hands pull your hair in their direction.

"You just can't make this goddamn easy, can you?!" A loud voice screamed into your ear. "I've given you do goddamn many chances, but you just think you're so high and above them! Is that it?!"

Elvis tugged harshly on your hair at your lack of response. "Answer me, goddamnit!" But you couldn't-- could only let out a muffled whimper as he did so. He then paused, chest heaving for breath, and let go of you, slowly.

Elvis sat down beside you and placed one hand on your cheek, lovingly, sweetly, as if the moments just minutes prior hadn't occurred. "You look so pretty when you cry..." He muttered, guiding your face to look in his direction. "But you have to do what I say when I tell you. You got that, baby? Whatever I say, every time-- or I'm gonna have to go out and hurt some people, and neither of us wants that, do we?"

Head slowly shaking side to side, you agreed. Elvis smiled. "Good girl. Now, I didn't want to have to do this, but seeing as you've misbehaved so much, I'm afraid have to." Staring at Elvis fearfully, he offered you a sympathetic glance. "Don't worry, it won't hurt for long."

It was then that you felt a stinging pain in your neck. Unsure as you what exactly was happening, you attempted to pull away, but Elvis's grip grew tighter as he held you in place. Despite knowing that your efforts would be in vain, you thrashed against him, but he only held you closer, fingers digging deeper into your skin as you did so.

And then, slowly, you felt a certain exhaustion run through you as you eventually leaned right into Elvis's arms and were lulled into a deep sleep.

want to join my taglist?

taglist: @iloveaustinelvis, @powerofelvis, @kendralavon7, @bobthefishiesworld

439 notes · View notes

angelofthenight · 1 year

Text

This dude BETTER be yandere-ified as SOON as the movie drops, I ain’t playing fic writers

#dune #dune part 2 #dune part two #dune part ii #reader insert #yandere #feyd rautha #Austin butler #yandere feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #timothee chamalet #zendeya #florence pugh #Feyd Rautha Harkonnen #yandere Feyd Rautha Harkonnen #Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x reader

240 notes · View notes

tommydarlings · 1 year

Text

Why aren’t you laughing anymore? | a.b

pairing: yandere!dom!austin x sub!reader

warnings: smut, mention of edging, dacryphilia, chocking

w/c: 0.6k

summary: You loved fucking with Austin while he’s trying so hard to make you cum, and he loves winning, seeing your tears and the realisation that you’ve lost.

my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! <3

“Say it again.” Austin muttered, brows furrowed while watching your face, closely.

You looked up at the slightly older men with a tiny smirk painted on your lips, fingers gripping the sheets in the tightest grip that’s even possible.

As an answer, you were shaking your head, refusing to do what he wants from you for already 5 minutes. You bit your lip, gaze not leaving his angry and dark eyes as you watched him biting his cheek and releasing a chuckle.

And you could already tell that your decision wasn’t the smartest.

“C'mon.�� He whispered, nodding his head in your direction, eyes holding eye-contact with you while you looked up at him.

Your legs were trembling underneath his body, one hand balancing his weight above you while the other one was edging your pussy like a maniac, not showing any mercy.

“Just say it angel, it will help you.” He changed his position so that he was now balancing himself on his elbow while the back of his fingers caressed your heated cheek.

His quiet and reassuring tone made you almost obey.

Almost.

But Austin should have known better, he knows you long enough to know that you are the definition of a rebellion, not listening to anybody, especially not men.

You choked back a moan and tiny whine, “N-No, don’t feel l-like it.” You stubbornly answered him, eyes still staying on his dark ones.

Austin knew it was a lie, you were never that desperate before, you really wanted to cum but you also really wanted to win this little argument.

His fingers slowly left your throbbing clit, sliding down your wet slit while he was glancing down at your pussy, head then quickly raising again to look at your facial expressions.

He entered you, finger’s quickly getting to work and moving in and out of you, the back of his fingers still stroking your cheek as tears left your eyes, breathing getting heavier and heavier.

What Austin didn’t expect, is to suddenly see and hear you chuckling.

He looked down at you, tilted his head and kindly smiled. “What’s so funny, huh?” He asked you quietly, smile still covering his lips.

“Y-Your trying so h-hard and f-for what, hmm?” You said. “F-For what.” Whispering the last part to sound a bit more terrifying even though you both knew that you were genuinely scared of him right now.

And you knew that your regretted saying that as soon as Austin's fingers got faster, moving in and out of your pussy in the fastest pace you’ve ever experienced.

You gazed up at him, your glassy eyes looked right into his dark ones, mouth opening wide as you felt yourself oh so perfectly close to cumming.

He watched how your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You moaned, but while moaning you still tried to laugh, or at least smile. But you couldn’t really succeed when his other hand suddenly squeezed your throat.

Your laughing immediately stopped, you started to struggle a bit with breathing, both hands now holding onto the soft bedsheets like your life depended on it. You barely noticed Austin’s chuckle,

“Now we’re not laughing anymore, huh?”

#fanfic #fanfiction #austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine #austinbutler #smut #sub!reader #yandere!austin #austin butler fan fiction #Austin Butler smut #austin butler fanfiction

368 notes · View notes

butlersdolly · 1 year

Text

you’re mine.

pairing: yandere!elvis!austin x naive!fem reader

prompt: you and elvis were childhood best friends but little did u know he loved you, too much almost

warnings: this is a yandere fic, so expect dark themes such as obsessive and manipulative behavior, stalking, abuse of power, and some elements of victim blaming, which some people may find disturbing or triggering.

You and Elvis were best friends since the 1st grade, you loved him so much with all your heart, his slicked back hair, his dark blue eyes, his lace shirt that hugged his waist ever so perfectly, I mean what could go wrong with a handsome best friend. You guys dated all through 9th grade to 10th grade, until your strict dad found out you dated him. “YOU’RE NOT DATING THAT YOUNG MAN Y/N” he spits at you “but dad he’s a nice boy he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me!” you looked at him with puppy eyes “YOU’RE NOT DATING A PRESLEY NOT SOON NOT EVER.” he slammed his door shut. You’re eyes welled up with tears while walking to elvis’s house to tell him the news.

You knocked on elvis’s door to see him smiling towards you while pulling you into a hug. “Hi my love” he said while looking at you. You didn’t hug him back and just stood there with a sorrowful look “Elvis there’s something that I need to tell you” you said quietly, He looked concerned “Yes? what happened” while walking you up to his room. “My daddy told me to stop seeing each other” you said with your eyes lowered not wanting to meet his dark gaze “So, you’re breaking up with me?” he asks you calmly. You don't want to break up with him but when your father discovered your relationship with elvis, he immediately forbade you to see him. You love elvis but you were too afraid of your father to disobey him. So you said, "Yes, I'm breaking up with you, elvis." You expected any kind of reaction from him, but not for him to laugh. A cold, unenthusiastic, dark laugh that sent shivers through your body. He started walking. backwards and when he gets to the door, he closed it then locked it. You looked at him confused. His jaw ticked in thought, and then what he said next made your heart still. "There's something you don't seem to understand Y/n. I'd rather see you dead than with someone else." He ran his thumb over his bottom lip and smiled innocently. "So babe, cut the bullshit, okay? Your mine, and only mine.”

sorry guys i had no ideas for the rest i had to finish it with the sneak peak ughhh so sorry :(

#austin butler imagine #austin butler #sebastian kydd #elvis presley #yandere fic #austin butler smut #elvis 2022

257 notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 1 month

Text

Finally saw Dune pt.1 !! Going to see Pt.2 tomorrow!! So...send in any yandere ideas you've got for Paul, Feyd or any other characters!! Also if anyone wants to send in something for the poly Paul x reader xFeyd au please do😘😘

34 notes · View notes

austinbutlerslovers · 13 days

Text

Mr. Butlers Baby Sitter 3

Label Mature 18+

🔗 Part 1 • Part 2

Summary You are deeply entangled in Austin’s world almost to the point of full immersion. After physically training you reward and punishment commands you willingly follow his desires.

He love bombs you and takes you shopping to buy a dress of his choosing for your first official date with him.

You only find out later when he brings you back to his estate that the expensive clothing and lavish dinner are not included in your babysitters fee. He says you must repay him in another way and he already knows exactly how he wants you to make it up to him.

🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨

dubcon•yandere •groping• manipulation into sex• sex in public•rough sex•oral sex with force •cum eating •degradation•squirting• fingering•forced oral sex• forced fingering •dirty talk•name calling •orgasm denial•movement restriction•coercion into sex•nude photos w/o consent •forced penetration • size kink •P in V•mental fragmentation of a female •captive syndrome •black mail•kiss it better • love bombing

🫦Smut consultants @burnthheparaphilia @purejasmine

Masterlist ••• Upcoming List

Mr. Butlers Baby Sitter 3

Austin takes your hand and guides you from his office back upstairs. He brings you through his master bedroom into his enormous master bathroom.

“I want you to relax for me in here” he says leading you to the shower in the center. He presses the settings inside of the expensive apparatus and steps out. “It’s all set, press the end button to turn it off. I’ll go get your clothing and leave you here to shower” he says and quickly departs closing the door behind him. Once you are sure he is gone you slowly strip naked from wearing his shirt and get inside the shower.

Your body instantly relaxes as you let the warm water cascade over your face and through your hair. You can see the infinite ocean through the floor to ceiling glass windows ahead adding to the ambiance. You’ve never been in a shower this big or luxurious.

All of his soaps and shampoo are preloaded in a three compartment device. When you place your hand beneath it dispenses the correct amount of shampoo and you rub it through your hair.

The shampoo has one of those scents that completely changes your mindset. You can’t stop enjoying the smell as you smile and rinse it from your hair.

You place your hands beneath the body rinse next and the soap smells just like Austin once it dispenses; bergamot, orange, vanilla. You stifle a laugh that you will smell the same.

You lather the soap all over your body and it makes your skin feel almost creamy in texture. You rinse off and press the end button to turn off the shower. Grabbing the nearest towel you dry your body and wrap it around.

You can’t find a blow dryer so you pull off your towel and use it a second time to dry your hair.

Naked standing at the sink drying your hair you look over to see the bathroom door is now ajar. You wonder how long it’s been open as you wrap the towel around your body and push the door fully open back to the master bedroom. Neatly folded on the bed is your yoga out fit “thank god!” you say on a breath.

You can finally dress again, Austin has been withholding your clothing all morning. You quickly step into your panties, shorts and sports bra finishing by zipping up your long sleeve jacket to complete the black yoga set.

The house is quiet as you wander from the bedroom to the hall and head down stairs. You reach the landing unsure of which way to go until you remember your phone and purse are in the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen you see your phone in the same charging cubby space as before next to your purse. You pull your purse onto your shoulder and check the phone screen seeing two missed calls from home.

You almost call back until Austin hugs you from behind surprising you. “Did you miss me?” He says softly in your ear.

You turn to look at him and he’s changed his clothing for the date. His hair is combed back in lose waves and his blue eyes study yours awaiting a response.

He looks very attractive wearing a leather jacket with his all black ensemble, and it makes you momentarily lose your thought. Your eyes are immediately drawn down to his black jeans which are so tight you can see the outline of his enormous caged cock.

You look back into his mesmerizing blue eyes and they light up as he stares at you finally making you regain your thoughts to answer. “ I…I was wondering were you went.” You respond slowly.

A small smile of contempt forms on his lips It’s not the answer he wants from you; he wants you to miss him, to crave him, to be worried when he’s gone, but he plays it off. “C’mon let’s get out of here.” he says taking your hand and pulling you along with him. You place your phone back in your purse as you walk.

You look over him as he guides you down a corridor of his estate. You can’t help but observe how masculine he is leading you, his walk exudes carefree confidence. The cologne he wears emanates from his skin as you follow and leaves a devine scent in his wake as he walks you to the end of the corridor and pushes the door open.

When he clicks the lights on there is a collection of several cars and motorcycles in a large warehouse space, this is his garage. “OH my GOSH!” You exclaim at his selection, it’s like a personal car dealership.

He smiles watching you quickly walk down the steps to the ground floor and inspect each vehicle and motorcycle. You know each price tag is higher than he last. “Which one do you want to take?” He asks over his shoulder as he reaches the keybox. You are a little stunned but you eye a car you’ve always wanted to own “The range!” you say grinning as you head over to the black SUV.

He clicks the alarm and it unlocks. You pull the door and sit in the passengers side. The smell of fresh leather overwhelms you in the newest series of the SUV. As Austin approaches the dash begins lighting up and is fully automated as he enters.

He turns the SUV on with the engine button and presses the panel on his visor opening the garage door directly ahead. “You ready to go?” He asks placing his hand on your thigh as he smiles. “Yes of course I love this car ” you say excitedly. He meant with him but sees how much you enjoy his objects of wealth. He removes his hand from your thigh back to the steering wheel and pulls from his estate down the hill to the bottom of the driveway.

He presses his car display while he’s stopped and types in an artist to begin playing music. It is one of your favorite songs. You look over at his side profile as he drives and don’t know if you should be impressed or terrified with how much he knows about you. “You like this song don’t you?” He asks feeling your gaze as he knowingly smiles. You can’t help but feel a little flattered “Yes Austin I love this song.” You confirm.

You look out the window as he drives you along the cliffside road and watch the evening sun set as he drives you into town.

Spoiled

After several minutes of music and driving you arrive to the Malibu County shopping center. He parks the car and you go to pull your door open but he stops your hand by holding your wrist. “I have to get it” he says and you release your hand from the door. “I just have to get the door for you every time okay.” He says again “Okay Austin” you confirm.

He comes to your side and helps you exit taking your hand. You look up to him feeling unsure, you are so confused by him at every turn. He is being a perfect gentleman now with his actions but you know there is the other side.

He sees your confusion and grins drawing closer “You have been a very good girl for me today” he says narrowing his eyes.“But whenever I want you to be, I’m going to make you my little slut again” he says causing a chill run through your body.

He studies your reaction the way you involuntarily bite your lip and knit your brows thinking you’ve done something wrong. It pleases him greatly seeing his trigger commands work so well on you. He grins and slips his hand around yours holding it firmly as he guides you from the car.

You dreamily follow Austin as he leads you through the shopping center lot. He is much taller than you are and his stride is longer. As he pulls you along he realizes the distance and slows his pace to match yours allowing you to hold hands walking together.

Once you reach the rows of shops no one takes much notice that he’s a celebrity and he walks through like everyone else. You round a corner heading away from the main promenade to a row of independent boutiques.

You suddenly hear a strange clicking sound drawing your attention. Twenty feet ahead and off to the right is a man with a high powered camera taking photos of you two.

Its a jarring sight and you instinctively squeeze Austin’s hand making him look over. As soon as Austin makes eye contact with the photographer it engages the man to come closer and speak up.

“Hey Austin who’s the girl is this a friend or a date or what ?” he asks clicking away.

Austin raises his hand in a dismissive gesture and continues walking with you. The tabloid vulture, continues to lurk you. This is a known celebrity hot spot and he’s looking to make money on a salacious photo.

“Is this your new girlfriend? Cmon Austin gimme some context for these photos man” he asks crudely as Austin continues to ignore him.

The photographer sees your proximity is more than friends and decides to provoke him to get a response “Austin you hitting this or what man?“ he asks studying your body and taking photos of you at a lower angel.

“Enough” Austin says sternly and places you in front of him blocking the continuation of the unwanted shots.

Glancing down at his digital view finder the photographer checks his capture nodding in approval. You are wearing the tightest tiniest yoga shorts getting him the photos he desired.

“Yea Austin she’s fucking hot man.” He admits aloud “real quick rebound from your ex and I can see why“ he says stinging Austin about his recent divorce as he looks through his captures.

Austins jaw clenches and he inhales sharply to contain his deep seated rage. He continues walking with you instead of what he really wants to do and fuck up the photographer for the day.

You reach the two story shop and Austin holds the door open for you. Never having heard of this brand you walk in to find a grandiose themed contemporary luxury boutique.

A beautiful employee greets you and once she sees Austin she bashfully smiles recognizing him and loses her decorum . “W-welcome….oh my gosh.” She says quickly departing to tell her manager.

The manager approaches and welcomes Austin correctly “Welcome, my apologies she’s my new sales associate. I will be personally helping you with your selection today.” She says with a knowing smile to Austin, he was a frequent patron last year.

This was his then wife now ex-wife’s favorite boutique. Austin plans to spare no expense on you here. “Is there anything in particular I can help you with?” She asks Austin as she eyes you for your size.

“I would like to shop undisturbed privately for her this evening .” Austin requests. “Understood” she says and quickly goes to the front of the boutique flipping the sign to ‘closed’ and locking the doors.

She has several celebrity clients who shop this way, but this is the first time Austin has asked her for such a request. Then she eyes the paparazzi in front of the store and understands why.

Austin follows you around the displays until you pick up a form fitting beige dress. The price tag is an eye watering amount, you quickly try to put it back but Austin stops you retrieving the dress and holding it up next to you. “I like this one but I’ll need to see it on you .” He says.

The manager readily collects the dress from Austin as you continue shopping together. He sees a black silk dress on a mannequin and walks around it discovering the back of the dress is held together by two simple interlacing strings.

He points to it and the manager immediately begins stripping the mannequin. “This was just imported in and I’m obsessed with it. This is going to look stunning on her body.” She shares with him as she smiles fondly looking at the dress.

Austin loses sight of you during the exchange with the manager but quickly finds you in the back of the store. In one hand you are holding a high waist leather miniskirt with a silver floral pattern on the hem.

In your other hand you hold its matching ribbed crop top with a silver floral embroidered chest patch. You hold them to your body looking at your reflection.

Austin smiles as he watches you study yourself in the show mirror of the section. “It’s going to look great on you.” He says reaching near you and pulling a silver floral hemmed cropped leather jacket. “You’ll wear it with this.” He says holding it up.

Your heart flutters because you wanted the matching black leather jacket to the set but the price was so high it scared you. He smiles seeing the excitement in your eyes. “I want to see it on you too” he requests and you readily nod in agreement.

Once the manger collects all of your items she leads you both upstairs to the dressing rooms. There is a large gray half circle couch facing three rooms. All of the accessories, purses, and shoes line the walls of the expansive upper level.

Austin sits on the half circle couch in the center and begins making a phone call to pull favors to get a reservation to take you to the notorious sushi restaurant Nobu.

The manager hangs your clothing in the designer dressing room. “If you need any sizes or different styles please press this button.” She draws your attention to an illuminated button near the door and you nod, she smiles and takes her leave.

You enter the dressing room and try on the crop top, skirt, and leather jacket first.

You come out to show Austin as he requested. Even though he is on the phone his eyes are fully concentrated on your body which makes you smile. You turn completely showing the leather jacket holding the lapels. He nods yes and mutes his call. “I want to see you try on all of them.” He says before unmuting it again.

You turn back in the dressing room and pull on the tan form fitting mini dress. The low cut neckline makes your chest look voluptuous and you blush.

You open the door again and his eyes immediately fall to your chest then he slowly looks you up and down. He nods and puts his hand out with one finger making a circular gesture signaling you to turn around.

You give him a slow spin and look back into his eyes as he gives you the “okay” signal with a smirk of approval. You smile feeling giddy that he’s going to buy all of this for you and hurry to try on the final dress.

It slips up your body like a glove and you pull the two strings in your hands. When you make them tight they work with the dress instantly snatching your waist smaller and amplifying your tits. The level it elevates your look to is stunning.

You tussle your hair over to one side for more volume and look over how beautiful your body is wearing it. You turn to your side to see the deep plunging V down the back.

You slowly exit the dressing room.

As soon as Austin sees you he stops his call. “No no thank you I appreciate it I owe you one ….I ..I gotta go” he says quickly and hangs up.

He looks enamored as he gazes at you in the dress he picked.

You slide your hands down the silk front as his eyes follow your every movement. Seeing he likes this one the most you slowly turn showing the back to him and peek over your shoulder.

His eyes wander full of lust over your exposed skin as you give him a seductive little dance. You peek at him through your lashes and smile as you sway your hips making the silk dress flow.

He stands from the couch and slowly approaches until he’s standing behind you in the reflection of the mirror ahead. He trails his finger tips down the soft skin of your back as his eyes wander your body.

“You look perfect” he says softly as his eyes lock with yours in the reflection. Your arousal is already forming as he places his large hands on your hips pulling you back on him pressing you against his cock.

He slowly trails his hands up your waist and over the smooth silk of your full breasts "A-Aus!..”you say in protest trying to stop his provocative touch because you are in public.

He smiles as you bring your hands over his in a feeble attempt to pull them off. Instead he squeezes your full breasts in his hands and massages them as you both watch the sexual display in the mirror.

He lowers his face next to yours as you stare at each other in the reflection.“You like when I touch you in public baby?” he whispers against your ear and pinches the buds of your nipples making a light moan escape your lips.

“You want everyone to know you’re the only one for me when I touch you like this?”He asks cupping your breasts and squeezing them again harder. Once you give in to his touch he presses his lips against your ear “You want every one to know you’re my little slut don’t you?” He whispers seductively as he grins.

You try to fight his words but they increases your sexual arousal for him. Your brows knit as your face flushes and he catches it immediately in your pleading eyes. “Aus....we can’t do this here" you plead and he pulls his finger tips across your breasts leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

“Your body is mine to use whenever I desire” he confirms pulling the front of your dress down exposing your cleavage. He slips his fingers under the neckline and you gasp as his finger tips graze the bare skin of your nipple. "P-please Aus....not out here" you desperately beg and he warmly smiles. He only exploits you in the open to lure you deeper into his plan.

“Okay not out here “he agrees and trails one hand down your waist pulling open the dressing room door with the other and guiding you inside locking you both in.

He tricked you into the privacy of the dressing room so quickly that even though you know what he plans you are unable to resist him. He is so tall and handsome as he stands behind you in the reflection. He wraps his arms around you and you melt into his embrace. His beauty is both a blessing and a curse when he uses it to be so manipulative.

He wastes no time lowering his lips onto your neck, kissing and sucking a weak spot you didn’t even know existed until you lightly moan craving his touch.

“Do you want people to hear how much I please you?” He asks as his hand moves to your clit feeling it throb under his touch. “I-I’ll be quiet” you promise and he begins to rub his fingers into the silk against your aching pussy. You tilt your head back onto his shoulder so turned on your lashes flutter from how good his touch makes you feel.

He wraps one hand around your exposed throat as he continues to rub your pussy “I’m going to fuck you in this dress.” he rasps against your ear.

“Aus…Aus you can’t …we’ll get caught.” You say just above a whisper.

He kisses slowly along your neck until he reaches your ear. “They wont check on me again until I swipe my credit card” he says confidently. “Now be a good girl and bend over for me.” He commands. You obey him and lean forward as he trails his fingertips down the soft exposed skin of your back settling his hands around your waist.

You grab your shins for stability but he leans over you taking your wrists one at a time and placing your hands on the mirror. “Keep them there” he asserts and you nod looking down to the ground between your legs.

You watch his hands collect your dress near your ankles pulling it up your legs and along your thighs. You feel the silk fabric glide over your ass and onto your lower back where he bunches it to stay.

His hand finds your clothed pussy and he presses his fingertips into your panties. “Your soaking wet” He whispers rubbing his fingers against the drenched fabric.

“What excites you more …is it me?” He asks squeezing your pussy lips together. “Or the money.” He asks separating your pussy lips grooving his fingers between them. A shiver run downs down your spine as you moan and clench involuntarily from his masterful touch.

“Answer me!” he says sharply and slaps your sensitive pussy between your legs. You stifle a whimper as you recover from the sting of the harsh slap.

”Y-you Austin.” You finally pant out and he rubs your pussy better. “Good girl.” he compliments and lets you enjoy the way his hand expertly massages between your legs.

He removes his hands from pleasuring you and unzips his jeans releasing his large hardened cock from its confinement. He presses his tip to your clothed pussy making a moan wrack your body.

He guides his tip up and down the drenched fabric over your pussy watching how you fall apart in the reflection turning him on even more. “You are so responsive to me, every touch every word, that’s why you are the only one I want for my pleasure” he confesses.

You try hard to fight it but you can't help but feel special. Out of everyone he wanted you, he sought you out, and he chose you to be his.

He pulls his hips back and looks you over in the perfect position that he wanted. Your body bent over, hands pressed to the mirror legs spaced apart, dress pulled up. He trails hand down your spine.

“I cant get enough of you” he confesses and you stare down to the floor unable to meet his gaze any longer. You are overcome with so much arousal you are throbbing to your core.

“Such an obedient good girl deserves a reward right?” he questions and you nod as you close your eyes trying to hold yourself together knowing what’s next.

”Do you want me to make the ache go away?” He asks making your arousal explode for him. “Y-yes Austin pp-please I would like that very much.” You beg.

He collects your hair into a ponytail using his fist and gently pulls your head back making you stare at each other in the reflection. “I want you to watch what I do to you.” He reveals and you nod.

He releases your hair and grabs the bands of your panties slipping them down as you step out of them.

He slowly spreads your pussy lips open and pushes his two long fingers deep inside of you until a moan falls from your lips. Your warm arousal drips down your thighs as he slides his fingers in and out of your pussy.

“Aus ..Aus I-I think I'm going to cum!" you whisper feeling your core already tight. “Don’t cum yet” He says curling his fingers inside of you hitting the sweet spongy spot within that makes you lose your mind. You cover your mouth with one hand to muffle the loud moans from escaping.

“Don’t do that..I want to hear what I do to you" he says pressing your hand back to the mirror. He keeps fingering your pussy until you are quivering and shaking trying to stay sane.

He increases his speed working his arm vigorously as he smacks his knuckles against your pussy as it makes squishing sounds. He fingers you so deeply you are to ready cum.

You moan out loudly suddenly not caring if anyone hears anymore, you just want him and whatever he desires of you.

You close your eyes as the coil in your stomach becomes its tightest ready to release and Austin rapidly slides his fingers out leaving you completely empty. “Austin please please I need more I’m so close!” You cry out desperately jiggling seeking any type of friction.

He holds the base of his hardened cock and presses the tip to your wet entrance. "W-Wait-!! Aus!" before you can protest him not wearing a condom you feel the huge head of Austins cock push through the lips of your pussy. With a bouncing push he gets in just past the inner lips spreading your cunt.

"Fuck babe your little pussy is tight" He says thrusting inch by inch to go deeper. You wail as he pushes farther inward and your walls throb around him. He thrusts lightly until his cock takes less resistance and he is able to burrow all the way against your cervix.

You gasp and press your hands harder to the mirror as he begins pushing his hips forward to get his cock deeper into your tight walls as he thrusts.

You hear the slapping sounds of his skin against yours as he exerts more force with every hard drive of his cock. By the time your eyes meet in the mirror he is thrusting so hard he is jolting you forward.

“Aus....too fast!” You plead so he will slow but he increases his speed clapping his hips against your ass making you cry out.

“Who….-are you hm? …Where is that…-good 'Babysitter' I was recommended?” He asks thrusting at a dangerous rate.

“A-aus!..-i-it’stoo much!” You plead getting wrecked by his heavy plows. But he doesn’t slow down he wants to humiliate you into an orgasm this time.

“Such …a good …baby sitter …getting…fucked.. by her boss..in a public dressing room.” He says on each thrust. “Getting fucked like a good needy slut.” He reveals plowing harder.

“Austin please!” you whine as his thrust wrack your body and his words shatter your self image. You begin to lose your mind on the complications of what he’s doing and the spasming walls of your pussy add even more tortuous pleasure.

Your walls begin to flutter causing resistance against his hard pushing cock and you feel the sudden burst of euphoria in your core as you orgasm. “Austin I’m cumming!” You cry out.

“Good girl he pants “ feeling your wetness increase on him. You are so tight that on each thrust the liquid finally begins leaking out of you and trails down your legs. “Oh shit baby…- I fucked you…so good you … your cumming all over the..-fucking-.. floor" he says between thrusts. “I’m gonna cum now.. Fuck!" He yells overcome with arousal.

His pace turns erratic as he snaps his hips forward driving his cock in your pussy. His blue eyes focus intensely on yours as you watch him fuck you in the mirror and in that moment as he possesses your body you realize Austin controls you entirely.

"Get on your fucking knees babe" he demands and abruptly stops his thrusts. He slowly pulls his cock all the way out of you careful not cum.

As you kneel in front of him he grabs a fist full of your hair rushing you to his cock. "Open your mouth for me" he demands and you do as he requests opening wide and sticking your tongue out. “That’s it baby.” he says and hastily pushes his cock in as much as you can take.

You whimper as he stuffs your mouth full and slides his cock in and out until it twitches on your tongue. He grabs your head to prevent you from escaping and pulls you farther down his cock but you quickly hold the base with your hands to take him all the way without gagging.

You look up at him through your wet eyelashes pleading for him to cum in your mouth as you suck him and with just that look alone his hips falter. “oh fuck… fuck” he says staring at you at in disbelief.

With his cock lodged in the back of your throat he begins pumping your mouth full of semen. You suck the cum right out of him and he stares at you in awe while he groans in pleasure with his hand on your head. Your hands fly to his thighs squeezing them hard pleading for him to let you go.

He releases you from his grip and pulls his cock out of your mouth watching you stare up at him as you swallow all of his cum down.

He immediately kneels down to your level breathless as he looks into your eyes “..fuck baby-…you are such a good girl for me" he says in disbelief and takes ahold of your jaw pulling you into a kiss. “I want to want to keep you forever.” he confesses grinning in the moment feeling the rush of endorphins as he stares into your eyes. You look back at him feeling a sense of accomplishment that he is pleased and you smile.

“C’mere” he says helping you to stand and takes ahold of you in a second passionate kiss of his lips. He intertwines his tongue with yours and holds you close like he never wants to let you go. Once he pulls his lips from yours he gazes into your eyes again as a smile forms on his face feeling completely satisfied. “Alright let’s get out of here.” He says stepping back and quickly putting his cock away in his jeans.

He reaches behind you and collects your new clothing then presses the call button for the manager before he steps out of the dressing room leaving you inside.

You quickly find your yoga jacket and wipe your legs clean before kneeling to the floor and quickly cleaning your cum. You fold your yoga outfit up with your soaked panties inside.

You let out a breath in the dressing room after cleaning everything up. Austin is very satisfied with you and that makes you smile. You are now willing to do anything to please him and hear those magical words “good girl” that you crave on a subconscious level.

You hear Austin and the manager speaking just out side of the dressing room door.

“Shes going to wear the black one out and she’ll need heels” He says and knocks on the door. You turn and check your face and dress in the reflection. Other than a sore jaw,slightly swollen pussy, and missing panties you look and feel fine.

You exit the dressing room and the manager looks you over “Oh she looks magnificent” she says to Austin and your face flushes bright red. She has no idea what Austin just did to you in her dressing room.

She continues to compliment as you keep avoiding her eye contact “Are you a model honey?” She asks highly invested. “No I’m his Babysi- - -“ Austin cuts your short “She’s my girlfriend” he interjects.

“Oh” the manager says as both of you look at him with surprise. Her seeing how quickly he rebounded from his wife with a younger woman and you because he called you his girlfriend, he titled you.

“Well that’s wonderful she says with a smile.”her mind now spinning to get more information from his ex wife on the matter the next time she comes into the boutique.

Your reservation for Nobu are within the hour so Austin takes your hand and walks you along the selection of heels. He picks out a pair of strappy black ones “She’ll wear it with these.” He says requesting your size already knowing. “Oh they are perfect to match the straps on the dress” she compliments and Austin hands her his credit card.

Paparazzi

When you exit the store carrying your shopping bags there is a small mob. It is dusk and you are lit up by paparazzi flashes. You shield your eyes but Austin is accustomed to it. A group of girls run and approach Austin holding their phones poised to take a selfies keeping pace with him. “Austin please!!! Please may I take a selfie with you! One girl your age finally begs and he smiles kindly posing next to her face. “Oh my GOD!” she screams. Her friends do the same keeping pace and waiting for him to quickly pose smiling and then continue walking. “Thank you Austin!” They gush. “You’re welcome” he says grinning making them go insane with hysteria.

You look at their frantic eyes as they study their screens of the photos having only a second with him. A second group of fans approach but they only film him from a distance. Austin so tall and imposing in person that they are too nervous or too polite to ask for photos “That’s Austin Butler” they murmur as he walks by.

Austin quickens his pace as you reach the parking lot. You keep stride in your new heels and you are grateful you are in good shape. Reaching the car he opens your door and assists you inside with his hand, once your are seated he closes the door. His SUV is already surrounded by a gathering crowd as he walks to the drivers side. The sound of camera clicks are loud as their flashes begin to light up the SUV.

From the passengers seat looking through the windshield the noises are muffled and you can see the total wave of chaos Austin created. Dozens of fans and paparazzi surround the car some even watching at a distance from the shopping center.

You look over to the drivers side and see Austin interacting with fans taking a few quick selfies and signing his autograph now that you are saftley inside the car. He opens the door and the sounds amplify of people yelling his name as well as the loud camera clicks.

Austin closes the door muffling the sounds again and immediately presses the engine start button. He carefully edges out of his parking space into the parking lot avoiding people standing in the way who slowly inch back still wanting to engage with him. Security guards for the plaza finally arrive and usher people back allowing you and Austin to drive safely away.

Once the shopping center disappears from view you speak up “Austin Is that normal?” You ask breaking the silence. He grins as he answers “Yea” calmly driving. “Do you like it?” You ask witnessing how comfortable he is in chaos first hand “I love it.” He says grinning as he gets on the high way. “Only thing I dislike are the paparazzi.” He admits.

You drive a short distance and exit the highway. You suddenly remember Austin’s taking you to dinner and grab your purse to put on your makeup. You pull down the visor mirror and begin applying mascara and eyeshadow. You quickly rouge your cheeks and dab on lip stick.

You can feel Austin taking quick glances at you while he drives and when he pulls to a red light he stops the SUV and takes ahold your jaw turning you to face him.

He intensely studies your face. “I don’t like lip stick on you, and I don’t ever what you to wear it again take it off.” He says with authority. “Okay Austin.” You say timidly pulling a tissue and wiping your lips clean. His stare still lingers and you become worried.” What is it Austin why are you looking at me like that?” You question and his face relaxes into a smile.

You are so obedient that he’s in love with you, but he doesn’t say it. “Because I adore you.” He says instead making you sit back in your seat from the impact of his words.

Only yesterday you were his babysitter and this is your first date, now he’s saying he adores you. Austin is moving way too fast but you take his hand and squeeze it gently to show you care, and make sure he doesn’t become angry feeling rebuffed. He smiles and lifts your hand to his lips placing a kiss on it as the light turns green.

You arrive to the seaside restaurant of Nobu. Austin helps you from the SUV and holds your hand to head inside the restaurant. The entire building is paneled in large wood planks. As you enter the restaurant it is open to the out doors facing the ocean.

A stunning hostess greets you prepared for his arrival and brings you through the restaurant to your reserved VIP seats on the outdoor balcony of the beach. It is night and the ocean is dark and ominous as the waves crash at the shoreline.

Austin pulls your chair and pushes you in to go take his seat. There are low lighting black lamps on every table setting a luxurious ambiance.

“Austin..this is… like really really nice.” You admit looking around at the stylish decor. Everything is a honey wood color from the seating to the tables to the walls and to your left is the endless ocean. He smiles watching you take it all in.

“Do you want to start with a cocktail? Austin asks looking over the digital menu. You regain your focus and slightly panic. “They’re gonna card me Austin I can’t .” You reveal and he just smiles at you.

“May I order for you?” He asks after making his selection “yes” you confirm and when he doesn’t hand you the menu to choose you smile realizing he already knows what you will like.

Your waiter makes his introduction and Austin orders the meal.

As you wait Austin stares across at you. “Did you have fun today? He asks with a gentle smile. “Yes I did.” You admit, but the alarm bells in your mind are slowly going off that Austin may officially be forcing you into a relationship.

Your face changes as you worry about being in way over your head having a relationship with him. “What’s wrong?” He asks seeing your shift in your mood. He leans in with inherit interest as you speak.

“Did you mean…what you said in the boutique..about me…” Your voice trails off feeling uncertain. “That your my girlfriend?“ he asks with a grin already knowing what’s on your mind. “Yes that part.” You confirm feeling a slight chill from the wind in the night air.

He takes his leather jacket off and stands walking around to you and placing it on your shoulders. The warmth from his body lingers in the jacket and it comforts you. “Thank you Austin.” You say looking up to him. “You’re quite welcome“ he says kneeling down to be at eye level with you. He places his elbow on the table and rests his fist to his chin gazing into your eyes.

He trails his other hand down your shoulder as you huddle warmly in his jacket “What was I gonna tell her, that your my baby sitter?” He asks in a low voice studying your face. “I can’t tell anyone I’m fucking my babysitter.” He says casually. His words confuses you and now you are unsure if you are his girlfriend or still his babysitter.

The waiter arrives presenting a large glass bottle etched with Japanese lettering and Austin returns to his seat.

The waiter names the brand and where it was imported from and how it was distilled, then pours your glasses and sets the bottle on the table before he departs. “What is it Austin?” You ask with a contemplative look studying the foreign bottle. “Its sake different alcohols have different effects on you and I want to see what this one does.” He says smiling remembering whiskey makes you want your mouth on his cock.

He lifts his sake glass and gestures you do the same. Realizing he wants to cheers you lift your glass as well. The concept is still foreign with this being only your second time having alcohol. “To a great relationship” he says making your heart flutter as you touch glasses. You still aren’t sure if this makes him your boyfriend and you both take a drink as he grins at your confusion. The sake is sweet and you can’t even taste the alchohol until it warms your tongue.

Your appetizers arrive and the waiter informs you it is their crispy tuna as he sets down the six pieces of tuna puree topped with a slice of jalapeño and avocado on a toasted rice cake.

You each pick one up and you cheers the bite to Austin making him smile at the cute gesture before you both eat them.

It is heavenly, the rice cake is very crunchy in contrast to the fluffy softness of the tuna. “I want more” you say immediately after you both clear the tray. He grins at your eagerness “Patience baby I ordered a lot for us.” He confirms refilling your sake glass.

Next comes the thinly sliced yellow tail layered on a plate. The waiter sets it down with a small serving of wasabi and shredded ginger.

You each pick up your chopsticks and clear the plates one delicate layered slice at a time. Your mind explodes on the flavor, the fish is soft and delicate and the ponzu sauce is sharp and tangy.

Austin refills your sake glass seeing it is empty again.

Next is a tray of thickly sliced albacore, it is covered in delicate crispy onions, with a light lemon drizzle and ponzu. You each take pieces and chew through the crunchy tanginess of the fish mixed with lemon and crispy onion. You signal Austin to quickly refill your sake due to the sournesses and he grins pouring you another glass after you’d just finished the previous.

The main course arrives, a plated caramelized cod for each of you. It is lightly charred and the exterior is flaky and succulent with the sweetness of brown sugar enhancing the soft flavor of the fish. Feeling dizzy and and giddy you want to lick the sauce that dots the plate but you know better, the entire meal was highly addictive.

Austin refills your sake glass one more time emptying the bottle as you wait for the check. By now all the colors and sounds have enhanced in the room and you stare off into the ocean dreamily as Austin pays.

Austin helps you up and holds you around your waist guiding you to the car. You almost stumble on the curb leaving the restaurant but Austin corrects your step holding you tightly. “Come on baby a few more steps.” He instructs. “I had a really good time.” You murmur smiling at him feeling the drinks kick in with the dinner that was probably a skyrocketing amount. “I had a good time to.” He says smiling over at you.

Austins sits you in the car and buckles your seat belt across your lap making you laugh. “Austin I’m not a baby!” You scoff grinning “Youre my baby” he says looking at you flirtatiously as he clicks the belt in place. Your face blushes as your head lolls back overwhelmed by him as you let out a sigh, you are clearly drunk.

As Austin drives you to his estate he sees your eyes keeps closing so turns the music up and rolls down the windows. The wind and the music keep you awake. He knows you want to rest but he has other plans for the evening.

You look over at him studying his handsome face as he drives. He’s so intense and mean at times but when he’s soft and caring it makes you slowly give in to his ways and fall for him a tiny bit. A grin forms on your face thinking of him as your boyfriend and he peeks over at you placing his hand on your thigh. ”Almost home baby.” He says affectionately.

You stare at his muscular arms when he returns his hands to the wheel and turns up the hill which you recognize as the driveway to his estate.

Obsession

You pull into the garage and Austin clicks off the SUV making every thing go silent. He looks over at you and your eyes are filled with passion for him making him smile. He knows you are drunk again which means you will do even more degrading things that he likes tonight.

“Did you enjoy everything that we did today.” He asks checking in. “Yes I loved it” you say being reminded of your bags of clothing sitting in the backseat. “Good “ says leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. He pulls away and opens his door to exit the SUV.

You reach for your door too and he gives you a look making you slip your hands back your lap. “I almost forgot” you confess. He smiles at your obedience and comes around to get your door.

He walks you in to the estate and the lights automatically turn on illuminating the way to the kitchen. Austin stops in the hall “ I need a sec, there’s another bathroom near the landing” he says and you walk to the landing at the stairs and find it. You are still a bit drunk and stumble in to the bathroom as the lights automatically turn on. You drank so much sake you wait a while until your bladder is cleared before you clean yourself up.

You stand and wash your hands checking your reflection in the mirror. You are taken aback because you look absolutely stunning still in the expensive dress and wearing makeup.

You open the bathroom door and Austin is waiting for you resting his hip and elbow on the banister of the landing. “Come” He says extending his hand. You take it and he leads you to the wing of the estate with his office. This time you head to a lower level taking a set of stairs at the end of the hall.

At the base of the stairs there are two large black doors which he pushes upon leading you inside.

It is his man cave all of his most personal and intimate objects are within. In the center is a black wrap around leather couch with a matching ottoman. Guitars in lit display cases line the walls illuminating the room with a grand piano is just off to the left.

The ceilings are high vaulted and the walls without guitars are covered in dozens off organized framed photos. You step closer to a wall near the piano and see they are behind the scenes photos from his movies.

You look closer at a picture of him looking dapper in a military uniform with other soldiers on a set. The placard below reads ‘Masters of the Air 2024.’ You smile eyeing another photo next to it seeing how handsome he looks as a valiant officer standing in front of a historic plane.

You turn to see Austin resting back on his leather couch with his feet on the ottoman, he unzips his boots and takes them off as you come to sit with him. He pulls your legs across his lap and begins untying the lace strap of your heels slipping them off .“Thank you Austin“ you say bashfully feeling enamored by the romantic gesture. “You’re very welcome.”He says running his hand along your dress at your thigh before he looks into your eyes.

“Tonight your shopping spree and dinner won’t be covered under your babysitters fee.” He relays taking your breath away. “Oh…” you say feeling crestfallen wondering how much you actually spent.

He smiles trailing his fingertips along the silk of your expensive dress. “You’ll have to make it up to me.” He says staring at you seductively.

You already feel the uneasiness begin to set in. “What do you want me to do Austin?” You ask wondering how degrading it will be.

His eyes wander over your body lustfully. “It’s something you’ve already done for me.” he answers coyly. You look down at his hand caressing you wearing the expensive silk dress and come up with your answer “Alright Austin “You say reluctantly. You only readily agree because it’s something you’ve already done.

“Go wait for me near the piano” he instructs and helps you to move your legs from his lap and stand up.

As you reach the piano Austin has made his way across the room to a black door. Red light emits from the room within as he opens it and presses through a plastic curtain to he enter. It is his dark room Austin is also a photographer able to develop his own film.

You wonder if there is anything Austin can’t do as you look around the room realizing he plays piano and guitar. Then look at the walls covered in photos of all his other accomplishments and you assume no, he can do anything he puts his mind to.

Austin emerges from the dark room with a camera in his hands, but not just any camera it looks highly expensive.

He smiles approaching you from across the large room as he studies your form. “I couldn’t help but admire how stunning you looked in that dress all evening, so I decided you’re going to make up your spending tonight by taking some pictures for me.” He says looking pleased.

“Okay Austin “ you say smiling feeling relieved by his simple request.

Once in your vicinity he looks you over. “you look good in this lighting.” He admits and takes a few steps back already bringing his camera up to take the shot. “You look good to me in any lighting actually” he reveals making you both smile.

You hear the whir click and then see the flash. It doesn’t blind you but it makes you remember your first night with him. You know he still has the racy photo he took then to black mail you. Now that you have bonded with him you wonder if he will still release the photo to ruin you if you decide to leave him.

You are snapped out of your thoughts by Austin’s voice “I want one of you at the piano” he conveys bringing his hand to your waist and guiding you to sit on the piano bench.

He looks you over in approval before stepping back and raising his camera it clicks and flashes taking the photo. “Beautiful” he says making a small smile form on your lips.

He approaches you and places his camera on the piano to kneel down in front of you. His fingertips touch your ankles before he hooks the hem of your dress in his thumbs slowly gliding it up your calves and over your knees. He inches your dress higher and rests his hands on your thighs.

“Spread your legs apart for me“ he says looking up into your eyes. Your stomach pulls tight and you hesitate because you aren’t wearing panties anymore. You slowly open your legs to him and he forces them wider staring in awe at your bare pussy. ”Where are your panties?” He asks sounding upset.

“I-l wrapped them in my yoga outfit to put them in the shopping bag because…because they were so wet Austin.” You confess. He clicks his tongue making a tisk sound in disapproval. “You’ve been out with me all evening without any panties on?” He asks voice lowered as he stares between your legs. “Y-yes”you confirm and he stands up. “Do you know what happens to needy little sluts who don’t wear panties in public ?” He asks making your chest rise and fall. “Austin please..” you beg but you it’s to no avail.

He collects his camera and steps back “You’re already bare so touch yourself” he commands and you hesitate before you place your hands between your legs to pose. “I said touch yourself” he relays and you feel the heat creep up your neck as you obey and slip your fingers up and down your pussy as he snaps the photo.

“You like making yourself easy to access don’t you?” He says stepping closer and standing directly over you. Before you can answer he pushes you back with his free hand to make you lay flat on the bench.

“Put your fingers inside of yourself” he instructs and you bring your hand to your core. “Show me what a needy little slut you are” he instructs and your face blushes on his words as you slip your fingers inside of yourself. “Fuck” he whispers as he snaps the photo.

His breathing increases and he gently removes your hand replacing it with his own. He pushes his long fingers into your pussy making you moan. You see him smirk behind the camera enjoying the obvious power he has over you and with his fingers burrowed in your pussy he snaps the photo.

He puts his camera on the piano and kneels down to focus on fingering you, but you are tensed thinking he is upset as he pumps them into you and it causes resistance. You writhe on the piano bench beneath him and he removes his fingers placing his arm across your pelvis holding you firmly to restrict your movements.

“Relax baby I’m going to give you what you need I’m only teasing” he says and begins to rub your slick wetness into you pussy. He circles around your entrance and teases his fingers back in with little movements until they slide inside on each thrust. You pant as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out, letting you grow accustomed to them.

Once he feels you clench on his fingers he knows you are ready. He inserts his fingers deeper and probes inside of your walls until he finds the hidden ridge within. He rubs it firmly as you begen to moan loudly and he smiles. “You like that baby?” He asks knowing he found your gspot “y-yes Austin p-please more!” You beg.

He spreads his fingers wide inside of your walls and you feel your pussy being stretched apart. You cry out and grasp his wrist from the intense sensation.

You release his wrist when he brings his fingers together to roughly finger fuck you rubbing your gspot every time he plows them deep inside. He begins stroaking your clit in tandem and you moan loudly as you become so wet your pussy makes squishing sounds.

He coos at you in your moment of ecstasy "Baby let go and cum for me I want to enjoy this." He says and you begin to moan harder as your walls flutter against his fingers. “I’m going to cum Austin” you whine and he thrusts his fingers into you deeper pushing you over the edge.

You scream in pleasure as warm streams of your clear arousal cover his hand and spill onto the piano bench making a pool between your legs. "Fuck baby that’s the second time today, you came so much for me!” He says proudly. You shiver as you come down realizing he is right.

He pulls his fingers from you and stands unzipping his jeans. “Come get on your knees for me” he instructs and you shakily sit up on the piano bench before coming to kneel in front of him where he stands next to the piano.

“Take my cock out.” He commands and you obey reaching into his jeans and helping his cock spring free. “Put the on the tip of your tongue.” He instructs picking up his camera from the piano.

You open your mouth and place his cock head on your tongue. “fucking angel” he says snapping the photo. The clash of degradation and arousal swells inside of you.

He brings one hand to the back of your head and pushes your mouth down his cock until you gag unable to go farther. With his other hand holding the camera he takes the photo. When you see the flash you know this photo is so bad you almost want to cry.

Austin smiles “what’s wrong baby?” he coos seeing your saddened face. You try to pull your mouth back from his cock to speak but he holds your head firm on him and you begin to gurgle around it trying to protest his actions.

"Don't talk with your mouth full babe use your manners." He says teasingly as he stares down at you struggle, his cock gets harder in your mouth on his control and power over you in the moment. He finally decides to pull his cock out of your mouth and hear what you have to say.

You gasp for breath. “I don’t like that photo and I want you to delete it!” You say assertively trying to regain your composure.

He tilts his head to the side watching you defy him and voice your displeasure. “You should be thanking me for letting you suck my cock and taking photos.” He conveys.

Your face turns red with embarrassment beause you are so conflicted.

He places his hand on your chin making you look up at him. “Thank me properly” he says and your eyes go wide. He’s going beyond your limits of morality and you give in unsure how to react.

“Thank you for letting me suck your cock and taking a photo of it Austin.” you say with a hint of regret.

“Good girl” he says smiling

“We’re going to try again because the last time you looked like you were going to cry and I want to capture that look you give me that makes me want to cum.” He says.

He holds the base of his cock and gestures you to put your mouth on it. This time when you take him as far as you can you look up lovingly into his eyes.

“Fuck that’s it” he whispers taking the photo “I love when you stare up at me like that.” He admits

He pulls his cock from your mouth and places his camera on the piano. When he puts his cock away you are thoroughly confused. “Come I want to show you something.” He says taking your hand and recollecting his camera with the other.

He brings you to his dark room and as you push through the plastic curtain you see the entire room is illuminated in red light. He has several workstations on tables with plastic tubs. The smell of chemicals is pungent and overpowering even with the ventilation system he has installed.

He brings you to stand at a table in front of a tray of liquid. “You ever developed a photo before?” He asks. “No Austin of course not.” You say with a scoff ”I only use my iPhone” you answer.

“I’m going to show you how.” He says gently.

You follow him to a station where he clicks open the back of his camera on a light up table and removes the roll of film in its canister.

He pulls a tab on the small film canister and unrolls a long brown glossy strip inside which has the captures.

He lays the flattened roll on the light up table and looks at each capture choosing his favorites. He takes scissors and cuts the exact frames on the role he’s decided upon.

Then he brings the tiny frames of film in his palm to a second machine inserting them one at a time into a tray under a lens.

He places a piece of glossy paper under the lens and turns the knob on the machine making the first image he chooses larger until it fits the edges of the glossy paper it is projected upon.

It is a faint image and you can barely see it with your eyes. Austin then does it two more times with the other frames.

Once he has three glossed papers with faint images he brings them to the station with his his warming trays of pungent liquid. This is where the smell of chemicals is at its strongest.

He takes the first glossed piece of paper with tongs and swishes it through the pungent clear liquid until a photo begins to appear on it.

The image is of you with your legs apart in the expensive dress at the piano with your fingers in yourself. “It’s stunning” he compliments“ look at your eyes” he says gazing over to see your reaction instead he sees your apprehension. “You don’t like it?” He asks and you shake your head no. He pulls your head to him and plants a kiss on your hair.

“You don’t understand art like I do. I could easily sell these with my other photos.” he admits and you panic “Austin please don’t.” You plead but he ignores you and uses the tongs to pull the picture out and turns to hang it on the drying line with the others.

Your eyes widen when you realize he has dozens of photos of you in comprising positions hanging on the drying line. His obsession with you runs very deep and it sends a chill through your body

He slips the second piece of glossy paper in the liquid. “I could pull a few favors and do an art exhibition of these ” he says over his shoulder.

But you aren’t paying attention anymore because you are intensely looking over the dozens of photos of you he has hanging.

One is of you unconscious laying naked across his bed, another is of you inebriated with his hand placed around your throat. Your eyes widen in shock at the one of you in his shower. Your head is tilted back with water cascading over your body it is from just this morning “Austin what the fuck!” you finally snap.

He turns to you as you pull the picture of you in the shower from the line to show him. “What is honestly wrong with you Austin!?” you yell and he smiles “I’ll take photos of you whenever I want you are mine” he confirms.

“The fact that is the one your upset over amuses me” He says turning to retrieve the picture of you sucking his cock and hanging it with the others. “A-Austin this is so wrong this is wrong on so many levels” you say panicking stepping back as you look into his eyes and then at all the photos. Finally you look to the door to escape as he narrows his gaze at you. Feeling overwhelmed and finally realizing how deeply he has you trapped your mind panics signaling you to flee.

You turn hurriedly to flee but he quickly snatches your wrist and pulls you back to him grabbing your waist and lifting you up forcibly onto an empty table.

You gasp at his aggression but he shushes you as he rubs down your neck and your shoulders and positions himself between your legs. “I’m sorry I can’t let you leave like that.” He says and you feel the hard cock in his jeans press against your bare pussy. Before you can think he unzips his jeans and pulls out his erect cock out aiming it between your spread legs

“A-Austin what are going to do?” You ask panting and he leans in closer to kiss you but you hesitate pulling back. As you stare at each other in the intense moment you see an unyielding question burning in his eyes. “I know it’s all wrong but being with you has unleashed my innermost hidden desires and I can’t resist them with you.” He admits

He takes his cock in his hand and you look down at him stroking it “Tell me you want me.” He says and you feel his breath on your lips as his presses his tip to your entrance. So many thought are swirling through your head as you look into his pleading eyes. “Austin what do you want with me?” You finally ask.

“I know you hinted that you want me to be your boyfriend so, I’ll do that, I’ll do that for you.” He says relenting.

“Austin I’ll be honest you scare me at times and I’m worried if I leave you’ll share these pictures. So I really have no choice do I” You reveal.

“So make the right choice.” He implies, and that’s what worries you, he’s going to keep you as long as possible with blackmail.

He pulls his face back a little and you can see the sudden disappointment about you forming in his eyes. You quickly tell him. “Yes! Yes Austin I want you.” And pull him into a kiss making him calm instantly.

You moan in his mouth as you I feel the head of his cock push inside of you. He does a quick violent thrust to get his cock farther in and you moan even more. He begins to thrust into you easier as you become accustomed to his size and his cock begins gliding in and out of you.

When he starts to go faster you hold him around his shoulders felling him thrust into you so hard. "You like this, don't you? …-Having me fuck you your pussy knowing… I can’t get enough of you…having you surrounded by your photos that I take …-to pleasure myself when you’re not around.” He says going faster. Feeling overwhelmed you only breathe heavily staring into his eyes “SAY IT!" He yells stunning you. “Y-yes..of course I do.” You say breathlessly, you will agree with anything he says in this moment.

He begins to fuck you with long strokes, pulling his cock back farther before plunging it back inside. It feels so good you reach down to touch your clit. "Don’t touch yourself.” He commands and you obey placing your hand back on his shoulder. He plows into you even deeper until your legs are shaking and you’re seeing stars. “Beg me to cum” he commands burying his cock at its deepest in your pussy . “Please, Austin, let me cum” you beg and he reaches his hand between your bodies and strums your clit. You scream in pleasure as you cum instantly and he withdraws his cock making you squirt as he shoots cum all over your dress on your stomach. You are both physically spent, breathing heavily as it takes you several moments to come down.

He loves you but he doesn’t say it instead he presses his forehead to yours and holds the back of your neck caressing your jaw with his thumb. “You’re mine” he says staring into your eyes. “Okay Austin.” You answer quickly and he smiles. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He says looking down at his cum glisten in the silk on your dress. He plants a kiss to your lips and helps you to stand. He turns you around and unties your dress slipping it down your waist until you step out of it.

“I’m adding this one to my collection” He says smiling. “what collection?” You ask in curiosity, he looks over the dress in his hands then looks back into your eyes. “My collection of what you wear during my favorite encounters with you.” He confesses.

College

You awaken in the morning to the sound of your iPhone alarm clock. Austin is curled up against you holding you tightly . You wiggle to get out of his arms but he is too heavy keeping you trapped. You turn your head to look at him as you gently tug his hand to wake him nicely. “Austin I need to go to school.” You say softly and he slowly opens his eyes. He looks at you and he smiles seeing you first thing in the morning, though deep down he hates that you are leaving. But he promised you last night after he showered you and you climbed into bed with him that you could return to school the next day.

He lets out a breath and sits up in bed, he already has a plan set in place that will deter you from school for a while to bring you back to him.

“I’ll set up the shower and cook you breakfast okay?” He says pulling your head to him and planting a kiss on your hair. “Okay Austin.” You say.

You finish breakfast together sitting at the counter in his enormous kitchen. As he gets up and takes your dishes to the sink he decides to offer you something he knows you can’t resist. “Why don’t you take the range to school.” He says offhandedly as he pulls two cooling espressos resting on they tray of his machine.

“Really? You would do that!” You ask excitedly. “Why not.” He says grinning at your excitement. “I’ll have them detail your car in the meantime and you can bring back the Range when you come to work on Saturday.” He offers. “But I thought… you wanted me to stay all week.” You question due to his original agreement he paid your for on Monday.

“Well with school that makes it difficult doesn’t it.” He reveals. “You’ll have to stay here and wake up like this every morning at 5am to drive there then be back here after 5pm that’s a bit excessive.” He reasons.

“Oh I didn’t think about that.” You admit. He brings you your espresso and as you sip it he hands you your tiny birth control pill which you swallow with the last of the caffeine.

He reaches in his sweats pocket and pulls out the range key handing it over. “ Thank you Austin.” You say collecting the keyless fob in your hand and looking up to him. “Your very welcome.” He says feeling his heartache when you stand up and hug him goodbye. He pulls your face to his planting a kiss. “See you on Saturday.” You say grinning. “See you in Saturday” he says with a weak smile.

🥀 To be continued 🥀 ….

🏷️ Tag List 💌

@burnthheparaphilia @abswifey @faegoddessog @lindszeppelin @purejasmine @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @fallofthedamned @strangeninjaturtle @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @dololorose @elvismylove04 @shegatsby @denised916 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst

Release the puppies! 🐶 💕

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austinbutler #austin butler smut #smut #austin butler x reader #austin butler fandom #fanfic #austin butler smut fic #austin butler fic #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler x #yandere #obsessive love

425 notes · View notes