K Bunny Writes

[xxbunny-luv]

Street Kings Don’t Fall in Love - Part 6

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

The silence that follows his proposal feels like it lasts a goddamn eternity. Tom holds his breath, his heart thudding a heavy, cautious rhythm against his ribs. He watches her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, any flicker of the 'no' he’s so used to hearing when he tries to be anything other than the rough, reckless man the world expects him to be. He’s braced himself for her to pull away; to think he’s just playing some tactical game to get her into a bed.

She looks up at him, her eyes wide and shimmering, and for a heartbeat, he can’t read her. She’s a goddamn enigma, a beautiful, swirling storm of blue and light. He feels a sudden, sharp spike of anxiety a feeling he hasn't felt since he was a rookie on his first homicide scene. He’s terrified of misreading her. He’s terrified of losing this.

Then, the tension breaks. The corners of her mouth twitch, and a smile soft, genuine, and so incredibly sweet spreads across her face. It’s like the sun finally breaking through the smog of a Los Angeles afternoon.

“Really?” she asks, her voice a soft, breathless whisper, filled with a wonder that makes him feel like a hero just for offering her a chance. She squeezes his hand, her small fingers a warm weight against his palm. “That’s okay? You don't... you don't mind waiting?”

Tom feels a massive weight lift off his chest, replaced by a warmth that spreads through his limbs, chasing away the cold, jaded numbness he usually carries. He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, a low, relieved chuckle vibrating in his throat.

“Mind?” he rumbles, his voice thick with an emotion he can't quite name. He leans in, not to devour her this time, but just to be close, his gaze softening into something almost reverent. “Sweetheart, if waiting for you is the price of getting to know you, then it’s the easiest goddamn job a detective’s ever had.”

He gives her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze, his thumb stroking the back of her knuckles. He wants to tell her that he’d wait a lifetime if it meant he could keep seeing that smile, but he keeps his words grounded, keeping the mask of the 'cool detective' mostly intact, even if his eyes betray him.

“I’m a patient man when something is worth the damn trouble,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. He pulls out the chair next to her, a chivalrous gesture that feels more natural to him now than it has in years. “Now, sit. Stay right here with me.”

He gestures to the seat, his eyes burning with a quiet, determined intensity.

“Tell me about these kids, Y/N,” he says, a playful, lopsided grin returning to his face as he settles back into his own seat, his body angled toward her, completely and utterly focused on her. “Tell me about the little troublemakers you deal with all day. Because if they’re half as much of a handful as you are...” He pauses, his eyes dancing with a flirtatious glint. “...then you must be the most exhausted, most incredible woman in this entire city.”

The sound of her giggle is like a goddamn melody, cutting through the low, grimy hum of the bar. She doesn't move to sit just yet; instead, she stays there, leaning slightly toward him, her eyes searching his face. She’s trying to read him, scanning the lines around his eyes and the set of his jaw, looking for the catch. He can feel her curiosity it’s a warm, living thing between them and it makes him want to strip away every lie he’s ever told himself just so she can see the real him.

But she doesn't pull away. The smile stays, soft and luminous, lighting up her entire face in a way that makes the dim, amber lighting of the bar look dull by comparison.

“A big detective really wants to hear about some simple teacher and her kindergarten class?” she asks, her voice teasing, a playful lilt to her words. She tilts her head, her blue eyes dancing with a mixture of skepticism and delight.

Tom feels a surge of something warm and heavy in his chest. 'Simple.' She calls herself simple, but he knows better. He’s spent his whole life looking at the 'simple' things the small details, the subtle tells, the quiet truths and he knows there is nothing simple about her. She’s a goddamn force of nature, wrapped in a petite frame and a sweet smile.

“Simple?” he repeats, the word a low, incredulous rumble. He reaches out, his large hand finding hers on the table, his fingers curling around hers in a way that is both grounding and intensely intimate. He leans forward, his elbows on the table, closing the distance until he can see the flecks of gold in her blue eyes.

“Sweetheart, there ain't nothing simple about you,” he says, his voice dropping into that deep, serious tone he usually reserves for the most important parts of a case. But there’s no grit in it now, only a raw, unshielded honesty. “And there ain't nothing simple about what you do. You spend your whole day shaping the smallest, most important people in the world. That takes a kind of strength most of the bastards I deal with couldn't dream of.”

He lets a slow, lopsided grin spread across his face, his eyes softening as he looks at her. He wants her to know he isn't just being a flirt; he genuinely sees her. He sees the woman behind the 'teacher' title.

“Besides,” he adds, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial, playful whisper, a flirtatious glint returning to his dark eyes. “I’ve spent twenty years listening to criminals lie, cheat, and make excuses. A little bit of kindergarten chaos? That sounds like a goddamn vacation. Compared to a gang war in East LA, a classroom of five-year-olds sounds like heaven.”

He gives her hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze, his gaze unwavering.

“So, come on. Don't hold out on me. Who’s the biggest troublemaker in your class? The one who keeps you on your toes? I wanna know everything.”

As she starts to talk, the transformation is fucking breathtaking. The moment she begins describing her students, her entire demeanor shifts. Her eyes don't just sparkle; they ignite. She talks about a little boy who loves dinosaurs, a girl who’s too shy to speak, and the chaos of nap time, and as she does, her whole goddamn face lights up. It’s like watching a lightbulb flicker to life in a dark room, casting a glow that makes the grime of the bar, the smell of stale beer, and the jaded weight of his own life feel a million miles away.

She’s animated, her hands moving as she tells the stories, her voice rising in pitch with excitement. She’s so genuinely, unapologetically happy when she talks about them. It’s a pure kind of joy that Tom hasn't felt in a long, long time maybe not since before the hospital, before the silence of an empty house, before the booze became his only reliable companion.

He sits there, mesmerized. He’s supposed to be listening, supposed to be playing the part of the interested detective, but he can barely focus on the words. He’s too busy watching the way her lips move, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughs, and the way the light catches the soft curve of her cheek. God, he wants to kiss her. Not just a quick, polite peck, but a real, deep, soul searing kiss that tells her exactly how much he’s been starving for a light like hers.

He feels a sudden, sharp ache in his chest. It’s a mixture of desire and a desperate, protective need. He wants to be the one who makes her laugh like that every single day. He wants to be the one who shields that light from the darkness of this city.

“And then,” she says, leaning in closer, her eyes wide with the hilarity of a story, “Leo decided that his glue stick was actually a magic wand, and for ten minutes, the entire classroom was under a spell!”

She lets out a bright, musical laugh, and Tom finds himself leaning in too, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He reaches out, his hand hovering near hers on the table, wanting to touch her, to anchor himself to this moment of pure, unadulterated warmth.

“A magic wand, huh?” he rumbles, his voice low and thick with an affection he can no longer hide. He’s not even pretending to be the tough guy anymore. He’s just a man, completely and utterly captivated. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full with a bunch of little wizards.”

He lets his gaze linger on her lips as she laughs, the urge to lean across the table and claim them becoming almost unbearable. He has to fight the instinct to just reach out and pull her into his lap right there in the middle of the bar.

“You’re incredible, Y/N,” he murmurs, the words slipping out before he can filter them, his voice heavy with a sudden, raw intensity. He doesn't care if he's being too forward; he can't help it. The truth is just too damn loud in his head.

He catches himself, a small, slightly embarrassed smirk playing on his lips, but he doesn't pull back. He stays in her space, his dark eyes smoldering.

“I mean it. The way you talk about them... it’s like you actually give a damn about the little bastards. Most people in this city are just looking out for number one. But you? You’re something else entirely.” He tilts his head, his voice dropping to a seductive, intimate whisper. “And it’s making it real hard for me to keep my hands to myself, sweetheart.”

The way she giggles is a goddamn trap. She knows. She has to know. There’s a playful, knowing glint in those blue eyes that tells him she isn't as oblivious as she pretends to be. She’s testing him, poking at the fire he’s just admitted is burning, and she’s doing it with the grace of a woman who knows exactly how much power she holds over him.

“What do you mean it’s making it hard for you to keep your hands to yourself?” she asks, her voice a soft, melodic tease. She leans forward, her chin resting in her palm, her eyes locked onto his with a daring intensity that makes his blood roar in his ears. “Why?”

Tom feels a low, heavy heat settle in his gut. She’s playing with a man who deals in truths, and she’s just handed him a silver platter. He could play it safe. He could give her some bullshit, charming answer about how she’s just a beautiful woman. But he’s tired of being safe. He’s tired of the lies and the half-truths and the guarded walls he’s built around his heart for the last three years.

He doesn't back down. Instead, he leans in even further, his large frame casting a shadow over the table, effectively carving out a private world for just the two of them amidst the noise of the bar. He lets his gaze drop to her lips those plump, inviting lips before dragging it back up to her eyes. He wants her to see the hunger there. He wants her to feel the weight of it.

“Why?” he repeats, his voice dropping into a dark, velvet growl that is pure, unadulterated masculinity. He reaches across the table, not for her hand this time, but to slowly, deliberately tuck a stray lock of brunette hair behind her ear. His knuckles graze her skin, and he lingers there, his touch heavy and intentional.

“Because you’re sitting there, looking like an absolute angel, talking about magic wands and glue sticks,” he murmurs, his voice thick with a sudden, raw honesty that makes his own heart hammer against his ribs. “And all the while, you’re making me want to forget every goddamn rule about being a gentleman.”

He lets his hand slide down from her temple, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, his touch possessive and steady. He can feel the heat of her skin, and it’s driving him to the brink of madness.

“You’re so damn bright, Y/N,” he continues, his eyes smoldering with a predatory, flirtatious heat. “You walk into a room and it’s like the lights get turned up. And right now? All I can think about is how much I want to see if you taste as sweet as you look. All I can think about is how much you’d fit right here...”

He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't have to. He lets the implication hang in the air between them, heavy and electric. He lets his gaze roam over her face, her neck, her chest, letting her feel the sheer intensity of his desire.

“You want the truth, sweetheart?” he whispers, his voice a low, dangerous promise. “It’s hard to keep my hands to myself because every time you smile like that, every time you laugh... it feels like you’re pulling me in. And goddamn, Y/N... I’m a man who’s very, very good at following a lead. And right now, all my instincts are telling me to find out exactly what happens when a detective stops being so patient.”

The tension is so thick it feels like it’s physically pressing against Tom’s chest. He watches as the blush deepens on her cheeks; a beautiful, feverish pink that makes her look even more delicious. She bites her lip, her eyes darting around as if she’s searching her brain for the perfect, witty response to his confession. She looks flustered, breathless, and so incredibly vulnerable that he feels a surge of protective warmth. He’s about to lean in, to close the gap and tell her that he doesn't care about the rules, when the world suddenly shatters.

A sudden weight hits his shoulder, and the scent of cheap perfume and spilled tequila crashes into his senses. Before he can even react, a pair of slim, manicured arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back from the edge of the table.

“Tom! Oh my god, there you are!” a high, shrill voice chirps right in his ear. It’s a woman’s voice, thick with booze and a lack of boundaries. Tom stiffens, his entire body turning to stone as he feels the girl’s chest press against his back.

“Tom, come on, let’s get out of here!” the girl continues, oblivious to the fact that she’s just bulldozed a goddamn sacred moment. She giggles, a loud, grating sound that feels like a serrated knife through the atmosphere. “I can’t stop thinking about last night... god, you are so wild. You’re a beast, Tom!”

Fuck.

The word echoes in Tom's head like a gunshot. He freezes, his eyes widening as he looks over at Y/N. He can feel the heat of the drunk girl’s body against him, but all he can see is the expression on her face. He realizes with a sickening jolt of clarity exactly who this is. It’s one of the two women from the lounge last night a blurry, alcohol fueled mistake he’d made to drown out the loneliness of his apartment. He hadn't even thought about her today. He hadn't thought about anyone but Y/N for the last three hours.

He feels like a goddamn amateur. A jaded, reckless, stupid amateur. He’s been playing the part of the sincere, patient man, and here he is, being claimed by a woman who smells like a distillery.

“Tom? You okay? You’re being all quiet,” the drunk girl mumbles, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, her breath hot and smelling of vodka.

Tom’s gaze is locked on Y/N. He sees the way her eyes widen, the way her smile falters and then slowly, painfully, vanishes. The light he was just admiring. It’s flickering, dimming, as she pulls her hands back from his arms. She looks like she’s just been slapped.

[xxbunny-luv]

Street Kings Don’t Fall in Love - Part 5

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Fuck. He can tell. He can feel it in the way the air between them has suddenly turned thick and electric, like the atmosphere right before a massive thunderstorm breaks. The way her gaze lingers on the silver badge, the way her breathing has become shallow and uneven it’s not just curiosity. It’s hunger. A tiny, delicate, beautiful hunger that matches the roar in his own blood.

She bites her lip again, a frantic, nervous little movement, and then she ducks her head, her eyes falling to her feet as a deep, crimson blush spreads from her cheeks down to her neck. She looks so goddamn vulnerable in that moment, so deliciously shy, that Tom feels a primal urge to both protect her and devour her right here in the middle of the crowded bar.

“I…” she starts, her voice trailing off into a soft, breathless whisper. She doesn't pull her hand away; if anything, her fingertips seem to crave the cold metal of the badge, tracing the eagle and the letters of the LAPD with a slow, rhythmic motion that is driving him absolutely insane.

“Do you really go after bad guys…?” she asks softly. Her voice is small, tentative, but there’s a lilt to it a curiosity that sounds almost... daring.

Tom feels a jolt of pure, masculine pride surge through him. He’s spent his life in the trenches, dealing with the filthiest, most dangerous bastards in Los Angeles, and the idea that this woman this angel in a tiny black dress is looking at that part of him and finding it... interesting? It makes him feel powerful. It makes him feel seen.

He doesn't let her hide for long. He reaches out, his large hand gently cupping her chin, his thumb tilting her face back up, so she has no choice but to look at him. He wants to see that heat in her eyes. He wants to see the moment she stops being the polite teacher and starts being the woman who wants him.

“The worst of 'em, sweetheart,” he rumbles, his voice dropping into a deep, gravelly register that is pure, unadulterated dominance. He leans in until his lips are hovering just a breath away from hers, his dark eyes burning with a predatory intensity. “The ones who think they can take whatever they want, without asking permission. The ones who think they're above the law.”

He lets his gaze drop to her mouth, watching the way her breath hitches at his closeness. He can smell her something sweet, like vanilla and summer rain and it’s making his head spin more than any bourbon ever could.

“But don't you worry,” he murmurs, his voice a dark, velvet promise as his thumb brushes over her bottom lip, pulling it down just a fraction. “I’m real good at catching 'em. And even better at making sure they stay in line.”

He lets his eyes lock onto hers, his expression turning heavy, intense, and unapologetically flirtatious.

“Is that the kind of 'bad guy' you were wondering about, Y/N? Or were you thinking of something a little more... personal?”

The way she bites her lip that frantic, repetitive motion is doing things to Tom’s self-control that should probably be illegal. He can see the conflict in her eyes, the battle between her polite, kindergarten teacher persona and the woman who is currently staring at him like he’s the only thing in this goddamn room worth seeing.

“I… I can’t believe you’re a cop,” she whispers, her voice trembling just enough to let him know she’s not as composed as she looks. The blush on her face has deepened to a delicious, dark rose, and she looks so damn beautiful it actually hurts to look at her.

Tom feels a surge of dark, playful pride. He likes the power he has in this moment, the way he can make her pulse jump just by leaning in.

“Not just a cop, sweetheart,” he corrects her, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates in the small space between them. He lets his gaze linger on her lips before meeting her eyes again. “I’m a detective. Vice. It means I spend a lot of time in the shadows, looking for the things people try to hide.”

As soon as the word 'detective' leaves his lips, he sees it. Her eyes widen, her pupils dilate until the blue is just a thin, shimmering ring, and she actually stumbles a half step back, her breath hitching in a way that tells him she’s nearly losing her footing from the sheer force of her own reaction. She’s fucking hooked. He’s got her, and he knows it.

She lets out a small, breathless giggle, trying to regain her composure, though her hand is still clutching his arm like he’s the only thing keeping her upright.

“Well, I guess that’s good,” she says, her eyes dancing with a newfound, mischievous light. She leans in a little closer, her voice dropping to a teasing conspiratorial whisper. “Because cops don’t really seem to like me very much...”

She giggles again, a sound that’s pure honey, even as she delivers the punchline. “I’m a really bad driver. I get pulled over... a lot.”

Tom feels a sudden, sharp jab of jealousy hit him right in the gut. Cops. Every time some rookie or some jaded sergeant pulls her over, they get to see her like this. He closes his eyes for a split second, a vivid, possessive image flashing through his mind: Y/N, sitting in the driver's seat of her car, looking up through the window with those wide, innocent blue eyes, her lips slightly parted, her voice soft and sweet as she talks her way out of a speeding ticket. He imagines some handsome officer leaning on her door, completely captivated by her, falling head over heels just because she gave him a little smile.

The thought of another man getting that close to her, getting to witness her charm, makes him want to go out there and find every officer in the LAPD and tell them to stay the hell away from her.

He opens his eyes, his expression darkening with a protective, possessive heat. He reaches out, his hand sliding firmly around her waist to steady her, pulling her flush against the hard planes of his body so she can feel exactly how much she’s affecting him.

“Is that right?” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a dangerous, velvet growl. He leans down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “You’re a troublemaker, Y/N? A little rebel behind the wheel?” He pulls back just enough to look her in the eye, his gaze intense and unyielding.

“So... Detective Ludlow, huh?” she murmurs, her voice a soft, melodic tease. The way she says it testing the weight of the title on her tongue makes a shiver run down Tom's spine that has nothing to do with the air conditioning in this dive bar. "Detective Ludlow." It sounds different when she says it. It doesn't sound like a badge, or a job, or a burden. Coming from her, it sounds like a challenge. It sounds like a name she wants to whisper in the dark. She bites her lip again, that damn lip, and Tom feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind. The blush is still there, a beautiful, warm glow on her skin that makes him want to lean down and taste it.

He can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her dress, the way her petite frame fits so perfectly against the hard, muscular lines of his own. He’s a man who’s spent his life chasing shadows, but right now, the only thing that matters is the light she’s casting on him. He feels a sudden, fierce possessiveness. He wants to wrap his arms around her, shield her from every lecherous eye in this room, and carry her out of here so he can have her all to himself.

He lets his hand on her waist tighten just a fraction, a silent claim, his thumb continuing that slow, rhythmic caress against her hip. He’s not being gentle anymore; he’s being a man who knows exactly what he wants, and he’s done playing the part of the polite stranger.

“You like the sound of that, sweetheart?” he rumbles, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that is pure, unadulterated heat. He leans in, his forehead resting against hers, forcing her to breathe in the scent of him leather, expensive bourbon, and something uniquely, ruggedly masculine. “Does it make you feel a little... safer? Knowing a man like me is on the case?”

He watches her eyes, watching the way they flicker down to his mouth and back up again. She’s playing with fire, and he’s more than happy to let himself get burned.

“Or maybe,” he adds, his voice a dark, velvet whisper that vibrates against her skin, “it just makes you want to see exactly how much trouble a detective can get into when he’s not following the rules.”

He lets a slow, predatory smirk spread across his face, his dark eyes smoldering with a promise of things far more scandalous than a speeding ticket.

“Because if you keep looking at me like that, Y/N... the rules are the first thing gonna go out the window. And I don't think a kindergarten teacher is ready for the kind of trouble a man like me can bring.”

The way she looks up at him, her eyes wide and shimmering like she’s caught in the headlights of a high-speed chase, makes Tom’s heart hammer a heavy, uneven rhythm against his ribs. She looks so damn innocent, so breathtakingly beautiful, that for a split second, the jaded cop in him wants to pull back, to give her space, to protect her from the sheer intensity of the hunger he feels.

But he can't. Not when she's looking at him like he's the only man in the world who matters. The air between them is so thick with tension he could cut it with a combat knife. He can feel the heat radiating off her, the subtle tremble in her small hands, and it drives him absolutely wild.

“Looking at you like... what, Detective?” she asks, her voice a soft, breathless whisper that barely carries over the low hum of the bar. She bites her lip again, a frantic, nervous little movement that makes him want to catch it between his own teeth.

Tom feels a low, guttural growl start in his chest. She’s playing coy, or maybe she’s just as overwhelmed as he is, but he isn't about to let her off the hook that easily. He’s a man who hunts for the truth, and right now, the truth is written all over her face in bright, beautiful colors.

He leans in even closer, his nose brushing against hers, his dark eyes searching hers with a raw, unshielded intensity. He lets his hand on her waist slide just a fraction lower, his fingers splayed against the curve of her hip, anchoring her to him.

“Don't play dumb, sweetheart,” he rumbles, his voice a dark, velvet rasp that’s heavy with intent. He lets his gaze drop to her lips, watching the way they part slightly as she breathes. “You’re looking at me like you want to know exactly what’s under this shirt. Like you want to know if the man behind the badge is as rough and unrefined as he looks.”

He lets a slow, predatory smirk tug at the corner of his mouth, his eyes smoldering with a heat that he isn't even trying to hide anymore. He’s done with the subtle games; he wants her to know exactly what kind of man he is.

“You’re looking at me like you want to see if a man like me can be tamed,” he whispers, his breath hot against her lips, a silent, seductive promise. “Or maybe you’re just wondering if you’re brave enough to let me take you somewhere a little more... private... so you can find out for yourself.”

He pauses, his gaze locking onto hers, his voice dropping to a low, commanding growl.

“So, tell me, Y/N... are you a girl who likes to follow the lesson plan? Or are you the kind of girl who likes to see what happens when the teacher decides to break a few goddamn rules?”

The sudden shift in her energy hits him like a bucket of ice water, but it’s not the kind that numbs; it’s the kind that wakes him the hell up. The playful, teasing spark in her eyes dims, replaced by a flicker of hesitation, a vulnerability that makes him feel like a goddamn brute for pushing so hard. She bites her lip that habit of hers is going to be the death of him and her gaze drops to her feet, her petite shoulders hunching just a fraction.

“I don’t… I… I don’t want to disappoint you but…” she starts, her voice trembling, a soft, melodic sound that’s suddenly laced with a quiet, stubborn strength. She takes a shallow breath, her fingers tightening on his arm. “I’m not gonna… I’m… I… I don’t go home with someone I just met…”

Tom freezes. The predator in him, the man who’s spent his life in the dark corners of LA where everything is transactional and fast, feels a sudden, sharp pang of guilt. He looks at her really looks at her and sees the girl who teaches five-year-olds how to share and how to be kind. She’s got standards. She’s got a heart that hasn't been hardened by the city yet, and here he is, a man who usually uses a woman to drown out the noise in his head, trying to sweep her off her feet before he’s even learned her middle name.

He feels like a goddamn idiot. He’s a detective; he should have read the room better. He’s been so caught up in the heat of her gaze, the way she was looking at him like he was something special, that he almost forgot she’s a woman with a soul, not just a beautiful distraction.

He doesn't pull away, though. He doesn't want to lose the connection, but he knows he has to soften. He has to show her he isn't just some reckless cop looking for a quick fix.

He lets out a slow, heavy breath, his shoulders dropping as he relaxes his stance. He doesn't let go of her waist, but his grip shifts from possessive to protective, his large hand becoming a steadying force rather than a demanding one. He leans in, but instead of the predatory smirk, his expression softens, his dark eyes turning warm and uncharacteristically gentle.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, soothing rumble, the kind he uses when he’s trying to calm a witness or a victim. He reaches up with his free hand, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with a tenderness that feels almost foreign to him. “Look at me, Y/N. Look at me.” He waits until she slowly lifts her head, her blue eyes swimming with a mix of shyness and a tiny bit of fear that he’s going to take offense. He gives her a small, lopsided, apologetic smile the one he rarely shows anyone.

“You ain't disappointing a goddamn thing,” he says, his voice thick with a sudden, raw sincerity. He shakes his head slightly, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping his lips. “Hell, maybe you’re the one who’s teaching me a lesson right now. Reminding me that not everything in this shitty city is a rush job.”

He leans his forehead against hers, his eyes closing for a second as he just breathes her in. He wants to be the man she deserves, not just the man she’s attracted to.

“You’re right. You’re damn right,” he whispers, his breath warm against her skin. He pulls back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression serious and intense. “A woman like you... you shouldn't be rushed. You should be savored. Like a good bourbon on a long night.”

He lets his hand slide from her jaw to her hand, lacing his large, scarred fingers through her small, delicate ones.

“So, how about this?” he proposes, his voice a low, seductive promise that’s more about patience than passion. “We don't go anywhere tonight. We stay right here. We finish our drinks, we talk, and you tell me everything about those kids of yours. And tomorrow? Tomorrow, you tell me if you want to see the detective again. No pressure, sweetheart. Just... let me earn a seat at your table. Deal?”

[xxbunny-luv]

Street Kings Don’t Fall in Love - Part 4

Part One Part Two Part Three

The way she rolls her eyes at him is so damn effortless, so full of life, that Tom feels a sudden, sharp pang of something akin to vertigo. She giggles again, that sweet, melodic sound that seems to push back the grime of the bar, and for a second, he almost forgets he’s a man who smells of bourbon and old regrets.

“I teach kindergarten,” she says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She tilts her head, looking up at him through those long lashes. “And his son is one of my students. He’s only five, Tom. He’s not nearly as... intense as his father.”

Tom stares at her, his mouth slightly agape for a fraction of a second before he recovers. Kindergarten. The word hits him like a physical blow to the solar plexus. He looks at her really looks at her and the realization settle in his gut like a heavy stone. She’s a kindergarten teacher. She spends her days surrounded by innocence, laughter, and tiny, untainted souls. She’s a woman who probably smells like crayons and sunshine, a woman whose heart is likely as bright and pure as those blue eyes of hers.

Fuck.

The thought is a dark, heavy roar in his mind. He looks down at his own hands large, calloused, scarred from years of street fights and gripping a service weapon. He thinks about the whiskey he had for breakfast, the jaded cynicism that coats his soul like armor, and the way he handles women like they're just something to be consumed and forgotten by morning. He's a man of the shadows, a man who lives in the grit and the blood of Los Angeles, and she... she is the light.

She’s way too good for him. If she spends her life nurturing the purest parts of humanity, then what the hell is a man like him supposed to do? He’s a goddamn wreck. He’s a man who sleeps with a gun under his pillow and a hole in his heart where his wife used to be. He’s not a man you bring home to meet the parents; he’s the man the parents warn their daughters about.

He feels a sudden, uncharacteristic wave of self-consciousness. He wants to pull her close, to taste those plump lips until he loses his mind, but a part of him the part that still has a glimmer of a conscience wants to step back. He wants to let her go before he stains her with his darkness.

But then she reaches out, her small hand finding his bicep, her touch warm and grounding, and the impulse to retreat is drowned out by the sheer, primal need to be near her. He can't help it. He's a man driven by instinct, and his instinct is screaming that he needs to protect this beautiful, pure thing.

He clears his throat, trying to force the heavy emotion back down, and settles on a lopsided, slightly self-deprecating smirk. He leans in, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates in the small space between them.

“Kindergarten, huh?” he murmurs, his dark eyes searching hers, intense and unblinking. “Well, that explains the patience. Because you’re gonna need a hell of a lot of it to deal with a man like me, Y/N.”

He lets his gaze drop to her lips, his thumb tracing a slow, possessive line along the curve of her hip, refusing to let the distance grow.

“But don't you worry about me,” he adds, his tone dropping into something more dominant, more certain. “I might be a handful, but I think you can handle a little bit of trouble. Don't you?”

She looks up at him, those big blue eyes searching his, and for a second, the noise of the bar the clinking glasses, the muffled music, the laughter of the drunks all fades into a dull hum. There’s only her. Only the warmth of her hand on his arm and the terrifying clarity in her gaze.

“I know that’s not what you wanted to say…” she says, her voice a gentle, melodic whisper that makes him feel more exposed than a man standing in a spotlight. She tilts her head, her brow furrowing just a fraction. “I saw you go somewhere for a minute… what is it?”

Christ, she’s intuitive. He feels a sudden, desperate urge to just tell her. To tell her that he’s a broken-down detective with a drinking problem and a heart full of ghosts. To tell her that he’s a man who doesn't deserve to be standing this close to someone as pure as a kindergarten teacher. He wants to tell her that he’s terrified of how much he wants her, and even more terrified of what he might do to her if he actually gets her. But he can't. Not yet. Not in a place like this, surrounded by the vultures of the city. He’s a man of control, and he isn't ready to lose it completely.

The way she says it so soft, so perceptive makes Tom feel like she’s reached right through his chest and squeezed his goddamn heart. He’s spent twenty years in the LAPD learning how to read people, how to spot a lie, how to mask his intentions behind a wall of bravado and muscle. He thought he was doing a good job of playing the part of the charming, flirtatious stranger, but she saw right through the cracks in his armor.

He lets out a long, slow breath, his shoulders dropping just a fraction. He doesn't pull away; instead, he leans in even closer, his large frame creating a protective cocoon around her, shielding her from the prying eyes of the room. He lets the mask slip, just a little, allowing a flicker of the jaded, heavy truth to show in his dark eyes.

“You’re too damn smart for your own good, Y/N,” he rumbles, his voice thick with a sudden, raw honesty. He reaches up, his large, calloused hand moving from her waist to her face. He uses the pad of his thumb to gently brush a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear, his touch uncharacteristically tender.

“I was just thinking...” he pauses, his gaze dropping to her lips before snapping back to her eyes, his expression intense and almost pained. “That a woman like you... a woman who spends her days teaching little kids how to be good, how to be kind... she shouldn't be in a place like this. And she definitely shouldn't be standing next to a man like me.”

He lets the silence hang between them, heavy and charged. He’s testing her, seeing if she’ll flinch, if she’ll be scared off by the darkness, he’s finally letting her glimpse.

“I was thinking that you’re far too good for this city, sweetheart,” he adds, his voice dropping to a low, possessive growl as his thumb lingers near the corner of her mouth. “And you’re way too good for a man who’s half convinced he’s too far gone to be saved. But goddamn... if you're willing to take the risk, I'd sure as hell like to prove you wrong.”

The way a soft, rosy, pink flushes across her cheeks is enough to make Tom’s knees go weak. It’s the most goddamn adorable thing he’s ever seen. She looks like a fucking sunset, all soft colors and warmth, and it makes the grit and grime of the bar feel even more offensive. He wants to lean down and kiss that blush right off her skin.

He expects her to be intimidated, to pull back after he just admitted he was a goddamn wreck. But Y/N isn't some fragile porcelain doll that’s going to shatter the moment he shows a bit of his rough edges. She’s got a spine. A beautiful, stubborn little spine.

“I’ll be the judge if I’m too good for you,” she says, her voice gaining a sudden, playful strength. She doesn't look away; instead, she tilts her chin up, meeting his intense, dark gaze with a defiance that makes his blood sing. She looks deeply into his eyes, and for a second, Tom feels like she’s reading his entire goddamn life story the loss, the booze, the lonely nights.

“Just because I’m a teacher to kids doesn’t mean anything until you get to know me,” she adds, her gaze unwavering. There’s a wisdom in her eyes that belies her age, a quiet strength that catches him completely off guard. She isn't just a pretty face; she’s a woman who knows exactly who she is.

Then, the tension breaks as she lets out another one of those light, musical giggles, the sound dancing through the heavy air between them.

“You didn’t think that was my job when you said my dress was bad,” she teases, her eyes dancing with mischief. She’s calling him out on his own bullshit, and God, he loves it.

Tom lets out a low, rough bark of a laugh, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. He shakes his head, a lopsided, genuine grin spreading across his face. She’s got him. The bastard is completely, utterly hooked, and she hasn't even tried. She’s playing him like a seasoned pro, and all he wants to do is let her win.

“Smartass,” he murmurs, the word dripping with affection. He leans in, his forehead nearly touching hers, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rumble that is pure, unadulterated heat. “You’re right. You’re damn right. I was judging a book by its cover, wasn't I? Thinking because you look like an angel, you must be a saint.”

He lets his hand slide from her cheek down to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling slightly in her soft hair, pulling her just a hair closer. He can feel the heat of her skin, the frantic little beat of her pulse against his fingertips. The jaded detective is gone; there’s only the man, hungry and desperate for the woman in his arms.

“So, alright, Y/N,” he whispers, his dark eyes burning into hers with a promise of something much more intense than a simple conversation. “Judge away. Teach me a lesson. Because if you’re the one holding the grade book... I think I’m gonna be your most dedicated student. Just tell me where to start.”

The sound of her giggle is like a goddamn lifeline, pulling Tom out of the dark, heavy thoughts that usually drown him. She’s so light, so effortlessly playful, even when she’s pinning him down with her intellect. He can’t help but feel a grin tugging at his lips a real one, not the cynical smirk he usually wears to keep the world at bay.

“You know what I do,” she says, her eyes twinkling with a teasing light as she tilts her head. “So, what does Mr. Ludlow do for work?”

Tom lets out a genuine, deep laugh that rumble in his chest. He’s spent twenty years talking to informants, hardened criminals, and jaded brass, but he’s never met anyone like her. She’s a goddamn whirlwind of sunshine and sass, and she’s doing it right in the middle of a dive bar in the middle of the night. She’s unlike anyone he’s ever talked to, and the realization makes him want to throw caution to the wind and just follow her wherever she leads.

“Work, huh?” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a low, playful growl. He decides to show her instead of telling her. He likes the way she looks at him, so he wants to see that look intensify.

He reaches down, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his dark jeans, and hitches his shirt up just enough. He pulls his leather belt slightly to the side, revealing the polished silver of his LAPD badge glinting against the dark fabric of his holster. It’s a heavy, authoritative thing, a symbol of the life he leads the grit, the violence, and the duty.

Her breath hitches. He watches, mesmerized, as she reaches out. Her small, delicate fingers trace the edge of the metal, her touch light as a feather but feeling like a goddamn lightning strike to him. She looks up at him, her face flushing a deep, beautiful pink, and she bites that plump lower lip again. The way she’s looking at him... it’s not just curiosity anymore.

“You’re a cop?” she breathes, her voice airy and trembling just a little. There’s a sudden, electric charge in her eyes, a flicker of something intense and hungry.

Tom freezes, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Holy fuck. He’s a man who reads people for a living, who can spot a nervous twitch from a mile away, and right now, all he can see is the way her pupils have dilated, the way her chest is rising and falling a little too fast. Is she... is she turned on?

The thought sends a surge of pure, unadulterated heat straight to his groin. The idea that a woman as pure and sweet as a kindergarten teacher could be looking at a rough, jaded detective with that kind of primal interest... it’s enough to make him lose his goddamn mind. He feels a sudden, fierce urge to pull her into the shadows, to find out exactly how much of that 'teacher' persona is just for show.

He leans in, his shadow swallowing her whole, his dark eyes smoldering as he watches her reaction. He lets his hand slide from her neck down to her waist, pulling her a fraction closer so he can feel the heat radiating off her.

“A cop,” he repeats, his voice a dark, velvet rasp that’s thick with intent. He lets a slow, predatory smirk spread across his face, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Does that change your grade, Y/N? Or do you think you can handle a man who spends his days chasing down the bad guys?”

[xxbunny-luv]

Street Kings Don’t Fall in Love - Part 3

Part One

Part Two

The sound of her giggle is like a shot of pure adrenaline straight to his heart. It’s light, teasing, and entirely too dangerous for a man in his position. He’s supposed to be a jaded, hardened detective, a man who’s seen the worst the world has to offer, but one little sound from her and he feels like a goddamn teenager again. He's losing his grip, and he knows it.

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” she asks, her eyes dancing with a playful mischief that catches him completely off guard. Before he can even formulate a response, she pulls away from his side just enough to face him fully. The movement is fluid and graceful, and as she turns, the light catches the curves of her body in a way that makes Tom’s breath hitch in his throat.

Then, she does something that nearly makes him forget how to breathe. She reaches out, her small, soft fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt before sliding upward, tracing the hard, muscular lines of his chest. Her touch is light, almost tentative, but it feels like a brand against his skin. He can feel the heat of her fingertips even through the layers of his clothes, and the sensation sends a jolt of electricity straight down to his gut.

Christ, she’s bold. He loves it. He loves the way she isn't intimidated by his size or the sheer intensity of his gaze. Most people shrink when he looks at them like this, but she... she’s leaning into the fire.

Tom stands there, momentarily paralyzed by the sensation of her tiny hand against his chest. He can feel his heart thudding wildly against his ribs, right beneath where her fingers are dancing. He wants to grab her wrist, pull her hand flat against his heart so she can feel exactly what she's doing to him, but he forces himself to stay still, to maintain some semblance of control.

“My name,” he says, his voice coming out lower and rougher than he intended, a deep, gravelly rumble that vibrates through his entire frame. He leans down slightly, closing the distance she created, his eyes darkening as they lock onto hers. “It’s Tom. Tom Ludlow.”

He lets the name hang between them, heavy and significant. He doesn't just want her to know his name; he wants her to feel the weight of it. He wants her to know that he’s not just some guy who happened to be at the bar. He’s a man who’s seen a lot, lost a lot, and hasn't felt a spark like this in a goddamn eternity.

His hand, still resting possessively on the small of her back, slides just a fraction lower, his thumb brushing against the swell of her hip. He’s done playing the gentleman; the protective instinct is still there, but it’s being rapidly overtaken by a much more primal, much more masculine hunger.

“Now you know, Y/N’s,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to her lips, which are mere inches from his. He can see the slight tremor in her hand, the way her breath is coming a little faster now. He can feel the tension between them, thick and palpable, like the air before a summer storm. “And now that we’ve exchanged names... what the hell are you gonna do with me?”

As she looks up at him, the light from the bar catches the blue of her eyes, and Tom feels a physical ache in his chest. Fucking Christ, she is so beautiful it’s a goddamn insult to every other woman he’s ever known. He’s a man who knows how to handle women; he’s the kind of guy who’s lived his life in the shadows of one-night stands and fleeting pleasures. He literally woke up this morning with two naked girls in his bed, and if you’d asked him for their names, he wouldn't have been able to tell you if they were saints or sinners. That was his life easy, hollow, and repetitive.

But Y/N’s... she’s different. She’s making him feel fucking crazy. He’s a seasoned detective, a man who prides himself on being in control, yet he feels like he’s teetering on the edge of a goddamn cliff just by standing this close to her. The jaded, cynical part of him is screaming that he’s too old, too broken, and too much of a bastard for a girl like her, but the rest of him is starving for her.

She opens her mouth to answer his question, a playful little giggle bubbling in her throat, but the moment is shattered by a voice that cuts through the air like a dull knife.

“Miss L/N?”

Tom’s instincts snap back into place instantly. His eyes dart to the source of the voice and his blood turns to ice. An older man, dressed in a suit that’s a little too tight around his middle, is standing a few feet away. The bastard isn't even trying to be subtle; he’s staring at her chest, his eyes practically glued to the swell of her breasts, a thin line of drool nearly forming at the corner of his mouth. He looks at her like she’s a piece of meat on a platter.

Before Tom can even growl a warning, before he can step in to reclaim his territory, Y/N’s pulls back slightly. He feels the sudden loss of her warmth against his chest, and it feels like a goddamn wound. She instinctively reaches down, trying to pull the hem of that tiny dress lower to cover herself, her shoulders hunching as if she could hide from that man’s lecherous gaze.

She forces a polite, practiced smile onto her face, but she won't look him in the eye. She keeps her gaze lowered, her posture shrinking.

“Mr. Roberts! Oh... hi!” she says, her voice sweet but lacking the spark it had just a second ago when she was looking at Tom. She sounds... submissive. Controlled. Like she’s used to playing this game.

Tom feels a surge of pure, unadulterated irritation. He hates the way she’s shrinking. He hates the way this 'Mr. Roberts' is looking at her. And most of all, he hates the sudden distance between them. His hand, which had been resting on her hip, feels empty, and the protective urge in his gut flares up into a white-hot rage. He doesn't move away. Instead, he steps even closer to her, his massive frame looming behind her like a dark, protective shadow.

The bastard doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed. Mr. Roberts keeps his eyes glued to her breasts, his gaze heavy and lecherous, practically stripping her bare right there in the middle of the bar. Tom can feel the heat of his stare, and it makes his hands itch to reach for the gun at his hip. He wants to show this suit exactly what happens to men who stare at a woman like she’s a goddamn buffet.

“I didn’t expect to see you somewhere like this…” Roberts says, his voice clipped, lacking any real warmth. He licks his lips, his eyes finally flicking up to her face, though they linger a second too long on her cleavage. “You look… like you’re having fun.”

The sarcasm in his tone is thick enough to choke on. Tom can tell the man thinks she’s out here looking for trouble, and it makes his blood boil. He watches as Y/N’s shoulders tense, her petite frame looking even smaller under the weight of the man's judgment.

“I’m just out with some friends,” she says softly. She’s being so damn polite, so goddamn graceful, even though Tom can see the discomfort written all over her beautiful face. She’s trying to keep the peace, trying to be the 'good girl' everyone expects her to be. It makes him want to grab her by the waist and tell her she doesn't owe a single soul an explanation.

Then, she turns to him. She reaches out, her hand finding his arm again, and she looks up at him with a smile that makes his heart do a violent somersault. She bites her lip that habit of hers is going to be the death of him and the look in her eyes is a silent plea for him to stay in character.

“This is my friend, Tom…” she says, her voice a little more confident now that she has him there as a shield. She turns back to the older man, her expression smoothing into a mask of polite professionalism. “And this is Mr. Roberts. His son is one of my students.”

Tom freezes. 'Students?' The word echoes in his head, clashing violently with the image of her in that tiny, scandalous black dress. A teacher? This girl? This goddess is a fucking teacher. He looks at her the sun kissed skin, the curves that should be illegal, the way that dress barely covers her ass and he can't help but think that she’s the most dangerous kind of teacher there is. A woman who could command a room with a single look.

Mr. Roberts doesn't look impressed. If anything, he looks irritated, his eyes raking over Tom’s broad shoulders, his muscular build, and the rugged, jaded look on his face. He clearly sees a man who doesn't fit into Y/N’s 'proper' world, and the man's ego can't handle it.

“Nice seeing you, Miss L/N,” Roberts grunts, his tone dismissive. He gives Tom a final, judging glance the kind of look a man gives a stray dog that's gotten too close to his prize possession before turning on his heel and stomping off into the crowd.

The moment the bastard is out of earshot, Tom lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The tension in his body doesn't leave; it just shifts. He turns his full attention to her, his dark eyes searching hers, his voice dropping into that low, intimate rumble that’s meant to pull her back to him.

“A teacher, huh?” he murmurs, a slow, lopsided smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leans in, his shadow completely enveloping her, his presence dominant and heavy. “Well, Y/N’s... you sure as hell don't look like the type of teacher who spends her days grading papers in a quiet classroom. You look like the kind of woman who keeps a man on his toes.”

He lets his gaze wander down her body again, slow and deliberate, before meeting her eyes with a smoldering intensity. “So, tell me... do all the parents of your students look at you the way that man was just looking at you? Or is he just a special kind of asshole?”

[xxbunny-luv]

Street Kings Don’t Fall in Love - Part 2

Part One

The moment the bastard scuttles away, the tension in Tom’s shoulders doesn't fully dissipate. He’s still on high alert, his body primed to strike if that pig so much as glances back. But as he turns his focus entirely on her, the protective rage melts into something much more dangerous: a deep, heavy fascination. He can feel her small hand on his arm, and the heat of her body pressed against his side is making it damn near impossible to think straight.

She looks up at him again, and the way she bites that plump lower lip makes his pulse hammer in his ears. She’s so fucking beautiful it’s almost painful to look at. He wants to wrap his arms around her, pull her into a dark corner, and shield her from every dirty eye in this godforsaken city. He wants to be the only thing she sees.

She looks down at her feet for a second, a shy, delicate movement that makes her seem even more petite and precious, before she tilts her head back up to meet his gaze. Her blue eyes are soft now, the panic replaced by a quiet sort of gratitude.

“He... he did touch me,” she says, her voice barely a whisper, a soft melody that cuts through the bar's roar. She looks a little sheepish, her cheeks flushing a faint pink under the neon lights. “But it didn’t go that far. Not really.”

Tom’s jaw tightens. The thought of that greasy, sweating hand on her skin makes him want to go back and finish the job he started with the man's teeth. He feels a sudden, fierce urge to claim her, to mark her as his so no one else dares to lay a finger on her again.

“He shouldn't have,” Tom rumbles, his voice thick with a protective, possessive edge. He doesn't care if he's being too intense; he can't help it. He finds himself staring at her lips, wondering if they're as soft as they look.

She offers him a small, tentative smile, her eyes searching his. “Thank you... for stepping in. Truly. I don't think I knew what to do for a second there.”

Tom feels a tug in his chest a sensation he hasn't felt in a long, long time. It’s not just the booze or the adrenaline; it’s her. She’s so damn sweet, so damn innocent looking, and he feels like a brute standing next to her. But he also feels a desperate need to be the man she can rely on.

He leans in a little closer, his scent a mix of bourbon, leather, and a hint of masculine musk enveloping her. He lowers his voice, making it a private, intimate velvet growl.

“Don't thank me, sweetheart,” he says, his dark eyes burning into hers with an intensity that's hard to hide. He lets his hand on her waist slide just a fraction of an inch, a slow, deliberate movement. “Any man worth his salt would’ve done the same for you. But if you’re gonna be walking around in a dress like this, you’re gonna need someone to keep an eye on you. Someone who actually knows how to treat a lady.” He gives her a slow, flirtatious smirk, one that’s half charming and half predatory, testing the waters to see how she reacts to the heat rolling off him.

The sound of her giggle is like a goddamn bell in the middle of a riot. It’s light, airy, and completely disarming. It cuts right through the jaded, heavy layers of Tom's soul, making him feel a sudden, sharp pang of something that feels dangerously close to joy. He watches her, mesmerized, as her eyes crinkle at the corners and that beautiful, sun kissed face lights up.

“What’s wrong with my dress?” she asks, her voice playful, a teasing lilt to it that makes his heart do a heavy thud against his ribs. She looks down at the tiny scrap of black fabric, smoothing it over her thigh with a hand that makes him want to catch it and hold it still.

Tom lets out a low, rough chuckle, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. He doesn't even try to hide the way his eyes travel shamelessly over her. He lets them linger on the swell of her breasts, the narrowness of her waist, and the way the hemline rides up her thighs. He’s a man, a man who’s seen everything, and he’s not about to pretend he isn't staring at a masterpiece.

“What’s wrong with it?” he repeats, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a dark, velvety growl. He leans in closer, until he can feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. He wants her to feel the weight of his gaze, to know exactly what she's doing to him. “It’s too damn short, sweetheart. It’s too tight. It’s a goddamn invitation for every lowlife in this city to think they’ve got a chance with you.”

He feels a surge of possessiveness so strong it almost makes him dizzy. He wants to wrap his heavy coat around her, hide her away from the world, and keep her all to himself. He wants to be the only one who gets to see the way she looks in this dress and the way she looks out of it.

“It’s beautiful,” he adds, his tone shifting from teasing to something much more sincere, much more intense. His dark eyes lock onto hers, unblinking, searching for the reaction to his honesty. “But it’s dangerous. You’re too damn beautiful for your own good, and you’re walking around here like you don't know it.”

He sees her breath hitch, a tiny, delicate movement that tells him he’s getting under her skin. The air between them is thickening, turning heavy with a tension that has nothing to do with the man who just left and everything to do with the heat radiating between the two of them.

He lets his hand on her waist tighten just a fraction, a silent, dominant claim. He’s not just a stranger anymore; he’s the man who just saved her, and he’s making sure she knows he isn't planning on leaving her side anytime soon.

“Tell me your name,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to her plump lips again, his voice a command wrapped in a plea. “Before I lose my goddamn mind right here in front of all these bastards.”

The way she bites her lip again... Christ, it’s a goddamn crime. It’s a slow, torturous little movement that makes Tom’s vision swim for a second. He can feel the bourbon in his system, but it’s nothing compared to the heat pooling in his gut as he watches her. She’s so damn soft, so damn unbothered by the chaos of the bar, and it makes him want to pull her into his chest and never let go.

“I don’t think my dress is that bad...” she murmurs, her voice a shy, melodic little thing. She looks down at her feet, a strand of her long brown hair falling over her shoulder, and for a moment, she looks like a little girl playing dress up, despite the way that fabric clings to every single one of her incredible curves.

Tom wants to laugh, but it’s a rough, hungry sound. He wants to tell her that 'bad' doesn't even begin to cover it. He wants to tell her that the dress is a goddamn provocation, a beautiful, shimmering trap that’s currently catching every man in the room, and he’s the only one with the guts to claim the prize.

She lingers there for a second, the silence between them stretching, heavy and thick with a tension that makes the hair on the back of Tom's neck stand up. Then, she tilts her head back up, her big blue eyes meeting his dark, intense gaze with a flicker of something maybe courage, maybe curiosity.

“Y/N,” she says softly. It’s a beautiful name. It sounds like silk and moonlight, a name that belongs to a woman, not a girl. It fits her perfectly.

Tom feels the name settle deep in his bones. Y/N. He repeats it in his head, tasting it, letting the syllables roll over his tongue. It feels right. It feels like something he needs to protect, something he needs to own.

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that carries a weight of sudden, intense familiarity. He doesn't just say it; he breathes it, letting the name hang in the air between them like a promise.

He leans in even closer, his large frame casting her in shadow, creating a private little world just for the two of them amidst the noise and the filth of the bar. He can see the pulse fluttering in the delicate hollow of her throat, and it makes him want to lean down and press his lips there just to feel it.

“Well, Y/N,” he murmurs, his dark eyes burning into hers, his thumb tracing a slow, possessive line along the curve of her hip. He’s done being subtle. He’s a man of action, a man who takes what he wants, and right now, all he wants is to know more about this breathtaking creature.

[xxbunny-luv]

Street Kings Don’t Fall in Love - Part 1

The air in the bar is thick with the smell of stale beer, cheap cigarettes, and the rowdy laughter of the Vice squad. Tom sits at a circular table with a few of his fellow detectives, a half empty glass of bourbon sweating in his hand. He’s supposed to be listening to Miller recount some bullshit story about a bust in Hollywood, but his focus is completely shot. His dark brown eyes are anchored to a spot across the room, staring through the haze of the dim lighting.

He’s never seen her before. She looks like she belongs in a different world one that isn't covered in the grime and grit of Los Angeles. She’s tiny, a petite little thing that makes him want to reach out and shield her from the very room she's sitting in. Her sun kissed skin glows under the neon lights, and that black dress... Christ, it’s barely there. It clings to a waist so small he feels like he could wrap both hands around it, before flaring out over hips and a backside that makes his throat go dry. And the way that dress struggles to contain her breasts... it’s enough to make a man forget his own name.

"Earth to Ludlow," Miller nudges him hard in the ribs, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. "You gonna keep drooling on your bourbon, or are you gonna actually join the conversation?"

Another detective, Sanchez, chuckles, leaning in to follow Tom's gaze. "Leave him alone, Miller. The man’s found a new muse. But damn, Tom... she looks like she’s barely old enough to buy a drink in this precinct. You’re a fossil, man. You're way too old for a little doll like that."

Tom scoffs, his jaw tightening as he takes a heavy swallow of his drink, trying to regain his composure. He's jaded, he knows he's a broken-down bastard compared to someone so vibrant, but he can't help himself. "Shut the fuck up," he grumbles, his voice a low, dominant rumble. "She's just... easy on the eyes. Don't make it a thing."

But then, his eyes narrow. His protective instincts, honed by years of seeing the worst of humanity, kick into high gear. An older, obese man, looking disheveled and smelling of desperation even from this distance, begins to loom over her. He leans into her space, his movements heavy and intrusive. Tom watches as her posture shifts, the way she shrinks back slightly, the way her big blue eyes dart around the room looking for an exit. She looks uncomfortable. She looks vulnerable.

The teasing from his partners fades into the background. The bourbon is forgotten. A familiar, restless heat rises in Tom's chest a mix of irritation and a sudden, reckless need to intervene. He doesn't know her, and he sure as hell shouldn't be getting involved, but seeing that animal crowd her space makes his blood boil.

Without a word to his men, Tom pushes his chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. He stands, his tall, muscular frame casting a long shadow, and begins to weave his way through the crowd toward her, his eyes locked on the man bothering her.

Tom weaves through the crowded, sweaty bodies of the bar, his eyes never leaving the scene. His heart is thudding a heavy, rhythmic beat against his ribs not from the bourbon, but from a sudden, sharp spike of protective rage. He’s seen a thousand low life’s in this city, but there’s something uniquely sickening about watching a predator corner something so damn delicate.

He keeps his pace steady, playing it cool, acting like he’s just another thirsty man heading for the bar to grab a fresh round. But as he gets closer, the sheer scale of her becomes overwhelming. Up close, she’s even more breathtaking. Christ, she’s tiny. A petite, fragile little thing that looks like she’d break if he gripped her too hard, yet she’s built with curves that defy logic. Those massive breasts are straining against the thin fabric of that black dress, and from this angle, the curve of her hips and that plump ass... it’s enough to make a man lose his goddamn mind.

Then, the sound of the man’s voice hits him. It’s a wet, gravelly wheeze that makes Tom’s skin crawl. “Come on, baby... just one go,” the obese man groans, his breath likely smelling of stale lager and decay. “I’ll last two minutes inside you, it won't be a big deal. Fuck, you probably make the sweetest noises when you're getting railed.”

Tom’s jaw sets so hard it aches. His hands clench into fists at his sides. He watches, horrified, as the man’s meaty, sweating hand reaches out and grips her thigh, his fingers sliding upward, inching toward the hem of that tiny dress. The man’s entitlement is fucking nauseating. “Just come with me to the bathroom,” the bastard continues, leaning in so close he’s practically breathing down her neck. “It’ll be quick. You probably fuck anyone who asks, don't ya?”

The sheer disrespect of it makes Tom’s blood boil. He sees the way she flinches, the way her blue eyes look wide and panicked, and he can't take it anymore. He doesn't care if he's being a reckless asshole or if Miller and the guys think he's lost his mind. He needs to get between her and this animal. He reaches the bar just as the man’s hand moves higher. Tom doesn't hesitate. He steps into the man's personal space, using his broad, muscular shoulder to physically shove the brute aside, forcing him to stumble back a step.

Without looking at the man, Tom turns his attention to her. He lets his expression soften, his gaze dropping to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her eyes with a look of practiced, intimate warmth. He reaches out, his large, calloused hand settling firmly and possessively on the small of her back, pulling her slightly closer to his side.

“There you are, sweetheart,” he says, his voice dropping into a deep, honeyed rumble that's meant only for her, though loud enough for the pig to hear. He leans down, his face hovering just inches from hers, radiating a dominant, protective heat. “I thought you’d gotten lost. Did this idiot keep you from your drink?” He shoots a dark, warning glance at the obese man a look that says 'one more move and you're eating teeth' before turning back to her with a charming, flirtatious tilt of his head.

As Tom pulls her against his side, he feels the incredible softness of her body against his hard, muscular frame. The contrast is staggering he feels like a goddamn mountain of grit and muscle next to this delicate, sun kissed angel. He can feel the heat radiating off her skin, and the scent of her something sweet, like vanilla or jasmine hits him harder than any shot of bourbon ever could.

She looks up at him, her big blue eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of confusion and lingering fear. Up close, her face is perfect. Those plump lips are slightly parted, and the way she’s looking at him... Christ, it’s enough to make him want to drop to his knees right here in this filthy bar. She looks so vulnerable, so damn beautiful, that a sudden, sharp ache thrums in his groin. He’s a professional, a seasoned detective, but in this moment, he’s just a man staring at a woman who looks like she was carved from starlight.

The obese man, undeterred by Tom's sudden appearance, scowls. "Who the hell are you, pal? We were havin' a conversation," he grunts, trying to regain some semblance of dignity despite his belly wobbling.

Tom doesn't even give the bastard the satisfaction of a full look. He keeps his eyes locked on hers, his hand on the small of her back applying a gentle, grounding pressure. He can see the gears turning in her head. She looks at the greasy man, then back at Tom's broad shoulders, his intense gaze, and the possessive way he's holding her. The realization starts to dawn on her. She realizes he's her lifeline, her shield.

A tiny, nervous smile touches those plump lips, and she bites the bottom one a move that nearly sends Tom over the edge. She leans into him, her small hand reaching up to rub his forearm, her touch light but electric against his skin.

“Sorry, baby…” she whispers, her voice soft and melodic, trembling just a little. She looks up at him through her lashes, playing the part perfectly, her eyes searching his for confirmation. “I didn't see you there. I was just... getting a little lost in thought.”

Tom feels a surge of pure, unadulterated triumph. He loves the way she calls him 'baby', even if it's a lie. It tastes better than anything he's had in years. He tightens his grip on her waist just a fraction, a silent promise that he isn't letting go.

He finally turns his head to the man, his expression shifting from charming to cold and dangerous in a heartbeat. His voice is a low, menacing growl. “Now, unless you want to find out how fast a man can lose a tooth in this lighting, I suggest you fuck off and find someone else to pester.”

The man blinks, intimidated by the sheer masculine dominance radiating off Tom, and mumbles something incoherent before scurrying off into the crowd. Tom watches him go, satisfied, before turning his full attention back to the girl in his arms. His voice softens instantly, becoming a gentle, private rumble meant only for her.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his thumb tracing a slow, soothing circle on her hip through the thin fabric of her dress. “Did that pig actually touch you?”

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-EIGHT – Anastasia? Are You Ok?

This is part TWENTY EIGHT of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: *this next entry will discuss an abusive relationship (emotional and physical) can DM you a recap w/out that part of the story if you need!* Possessiveness, smidge of misogyny, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j @pennyroyalcreep (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy xx

The next few days at work fly by as I’m busy preparing to be out of office for over a week to travel to Memphis with Austin, Baz and a few other people from Baz’s team. By the time it’s Friday night, I regret making plans tonight with my friends, but it’ll be good to see them and decompress from work a bit. I change into a black dress after getting ready for the night with my friend Nicole. I’ve been drinking a bit while getting ready and decide to take some pictures and actually post on Instagram, which is not very on brand for me. I giggle posting the photos thinking they’re a bit risqué of me in a mini dress on the bed, but who cares.

A few hours later, we’re leaving dinner with a group of friends and head out to a club, which is not my thing at all, but it’s for our friend Justin’s birthday. Awhile after being on the dance floor and drinking a bit, I decide to sit down and check my phone. As soon as I see the notifications, I feel like I sober up a bit. 3 texts from Kelsey, she’s with us, why is she texting me? 5 texts from Austin, I….

I decide to open Kelsey’s texts first since it’s weird she’s texting me since she’s with us, but she runs over to me before I can read them. “Ana, did you see what I sent you?! Why is he commenting on your Instagram. Like he deleted it, but still,” she screams over the music pulsating through the club. “What,” I yell back at her. She points at my phone before sitting down next to me. Her texts look panicked starting with, “OMG!” to “ANA!!!” and then finally a screenshot of my Instagram. Austin had commented a red heart emoji. I feel myself blush but try to hide it from my best friend.

I then realize I had texts from Austin. I rush to open them but try to shield them from Kelsey who is right next to me.

“Ok, I went to the grocery store and you’re going to think I’m crazy for how much stuff I bought.”

“I know we’re hanging out tomorrow, but what are you up to tonight?” “Your post…you look really great.”

“Where are you headed tonight?”

“Sorry for all the texts, I started drinking with some friends and…I just wanted to talk to you.”

I smile at the last one because I too want to talk to him. I kinda miss him even though we spent a lot of time together this week… As I’m deep in thought about texting Austin back, I see the last person I would ever want to see. What is he doing here? I need out of here.

I feel Kelsey grab my arm and I look at her. It’s the look best friends know what it means right away, “No I’m not ok, we need to leave.” She nods and grabs her purse and I follow suit, but as we’re getting up, my ex, Brandon, approaches me and leans down whispering into my ear, “Oh hey, Anaaa. You look good.” I roll my eyes and nod as politely as I can while gripping onto Kelsey’s arm for dear life.

I look over at my friend Justin and yell over the music, “I’m sorry to leave early on your birthday, but we’re gonna head out!” He comes over and whispers in my ear, “I don’t know why he’s here; I don’t even know the last time I talked to him…” I shrug and hug him as I try to make my way out. Before I can get away from our table, Brandon comes up and tries to pull me away from Kelsey. Kelsey pulls me on the other side of her, placing herself between me and my ex as she shouts at him, “Not tonight, Brandon. Just leave her alone.” Apparently, this is loud enough to get a bouncer’s attention as a bouncer makes his way over to us. I make eye contact with the bouncer and then look at Brandon and it seems the bouncer understands as he goes to ask Brandon to leave.

Kelsey and I try to leave the area, but with a rope tying off the area, we get a little stuck. Brandon comes up behind me following the bouncer and says loudly for anyone to hear, “You look good for a slut. Anyone want an easy time? Look over here.” I try to hide myself out of embarrassment for the scene he’s causing and to hide my expression from Kelsey. I don’t want her to see he still has the ability to make me feel so small. We broke up a while ago after I finally realized he was being abusive to me and it’s taken me time to heal, but his words still hurt. Kelsey pulls me out and before I know it, we’re in an Uber headed to my place.

Once we get back to my place, she offers to come up, but I just tell her I’m tired and gonna go to sleep. I promise to text her the next day and then head upstairs. The minute I get inside I slide down the other side of the door and just burst into tears. It’s not so much what my ex was yelling, just the place it brought me back to. I work so hard to not think about my past and anything that happened with Brandon but seeing him and feeling his grip on my arm. I feel my phone vibrate in my bag and pull it out. It’s just Kelsey letting me know she got home and to call her if I need her. I gasp for breath in between tears and switch from my messages to the phone call screen and before I know it, I’m waiting for an answer.

Eventually, I hear Austin say, “Anastasia? Are you ok? It’s so late.” There’s no way he can’t hear my tears as he then just asks, “Are you at home?” I nod and realize he can’t see me nodding, but I cannot bring myself to stop crying as I just whimper out, “Yyy-es.”

He firmly responds, “I’m on my way, I’ll be there in 15 minutes, ok, Anastasia?”

In what feels like no time at all, Austin arrives to my apartment and softly knocks on the door. I’m still sitting on the floor right against the door, so I just slide up and open the door. Austin is in a t-shirt and sweat shorts and his face falls as soon as he sees me. “Oh, Anastasia, what’s wrong,” he asks as he walks in my apartment and closes the door behind him. He pulls me in immediately into a hug and whispers, “It’s okay, baby. Let’s get you to bed.” He kisses the top of my head and guides me to my room. “Do you wanna take your shoes off and I’ll get you something comfy to wear,” he asks, but I grab his arm. “Don’t go, please,” I quietly beg. I slide out of my heels and lay down on my bed. Austin sits in the space next to me and I can feel him looking at me trying to figure out what to do or say.

Ana, you need to say something. He isn’t your boyfriend, but you called him and begged him to come over.

I tune my thoughts out as I don’t have the energy to be thinking about work or what Austin actually is to me. I just needed my friend who would be there for me without question. Kelsey wouldn’t judge me, but she would just tell me to wisen up and not dwell on it. She’d be right, but I just need to let the emotions out. I can’t bottle up how much seeing my ex and feeling his skin on mine, even if just a brief second, hurt me. It took me back to such a dark place.

While my head is spinning, I realize Austin has gotten up from the bed. “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna get you some water,” he says as he bends down to me and rubs my cheek softly with his thumb. I nod and he hurries out to my kitchen. I see him come back towards my bedroom, but he goes into my bathroom. I try to relax my mind and calm myself down to stop crying. I can feel my tears streaming down my face, but I finally am able to catch my breath and feel the sobbing stop.

Austin appears at my side crouched down facing me. He has some Tylenol and water held out for me, which I gladly take. He takes the water glass and offers me a make-up removing wipe, which makes me giggle. “There she is,” he smiles softly at me. I take the wipe from him and sit up a bit to take my make-up off. Once I’m done, he caresses my face with his thumb and says, “Much better.” I can feel more tears coming as I lay down again and I quietly ask, “Come lay down with me?” Austin with zero hesitation slides out of his shoes and is laying down opposite me. He wraps his one arm around me and uses the other to rub my arm. He quietly asks, “Anastasia, do you wanna tell me what happened?”

I sigh and quietly say, “No, but I feel like I owe you an explanation.” He turns me around so I’m facing him, and he says, “You don’t owe me anything. We can just lay here until you fall asleep, ok?” I nod and stay laying facing Austin. I run my fingers on his chest over his t-shirt. His eyes darken quickly, but as I look up into them, they soften back to their normal icy blue and he softly says, “Everything is gonna be ok, Anastasia. I got you, just go to sleep, baby.” I don’t have the energy to fight him on calling me baby, but I can feel my body react for a moment. I get so caught up in my thoughts…

He’s just a friend… but why is he calling me baby? Why did he rush here in the middle of the night? I was ignoring his texts and he came to me immediately when I called… Why is he looking at me like that? I just want to kiss him…

In order to stop from thinking so much and doing something I regret; I decide to open up to him. “I was out with some friends and my ex was at the same place,” I start to say quietly. Austin’s eyes look at me with such focus, like he isn’t just focused on what I’m saying, but how I’m saying it. “We broke up on pretty bad terms… at first, he was my everything. My first boyfriend and my first…well everything. Brandon started out great, but then he was a bit controlling and would lose his temper with me, but just get angry. Then he’d start grabbing me too hard or shoving me, but he’d always apologize like it was an accident,” I continue, and I look away from his eyes. “I remember the first time Brandon hit me, he apologized immediately. I thought I was done right away. But he was so apologetic I took him back a few days later. But then he just kept doing it. He’d hit me or shove me, apologize and we’d move on before he did it again. He started just demanding I stop going out with friends and I really never saw them for months. I had just turned 19 and he took everyone away from me,” I say as I look back up at him.

Austin’s eyes are locked on me, and I can see anger in them. He looks so hurt and I feel bad for unloading this on him. I think he can sense my thoughts as he says, “Anastasia, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to keep going if you don’t feel comfortable. I’m here for you, no matter what. You’re at home. You’re safe. I have you.” I look down from his eyes that are locked into mine and he reaches down and grabs my hand. I look back up at him and he quietly says, “I’m always going to make sure you feel safe. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop you from seeing him tonight.” I squeeze his hand and say, “I want you to know everything. It’s important.” He looks deep in my eyes, like he’s trying to get in my head to know what I’m thinking. He nods and I continue, “I was in class one day and ran into Kelsey, who immediately knew something was off. I didn’t look like myself, I was weak and just drained of any visible life, pale, thin and just no light in my eyes. It was summer, but I was wearing long sleeves and pants. She got it out of me that he was just hurting me, but she didn’t need to know anymore.”

I start to cry and Austin pulls me into him as he strokes my hair and says, “Anastasia, you’re so brave. You’re out of that time in your life and you’re so loved. You have everyone here for you and you’re safe.” I start to cry even harder. He barely knows me, but knows what I need to hear to be comforted… I bring myself to stop crying and continue, “I spent months living with Kelsey after she helped me just load up my stuff and never even say anything to Brandon other than ‘I’m leaving.’ I changed my number, stopped using social media and just learned to be myself again… My friend group, which was also his friend group, stopped hanging out with him. I really had a clean break from him once I regained my sense of self.”

Austin looks deep into my eyes as he pulls me out of our embrace and says, “I’m so happy you were able to do that for yourself. It’s why you so strong willed, you can really do anything you set your mind to. It’s why I like being around you so much. Anastasia, thank you for telling me.” He pulls me back into him and I grip my arms around him as we’re laying in my bed, on top of the covers and facing one another. I feel so much lighter after telling him all this; like he really knows the real me now. It’s ugly, but it’s what made me the person I am. “He’s the only person I’ve been with and just hearing him say things about me… just really affected me and I just had to come home,” I whisper, and I can feel his body tense up. Austin says, “Anastasia, don’t worry about anything he has to say. I’ve got you.”

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-SEVEN – What If We Just Hook Up And Then It’s Awkward?

SO SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! my IRL job came in and took over my life, but i am making time for this over christmas! This is part TWENTY SEVEN of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Possessiveness, smidge of misogyny, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j @pennyroyalcreep (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy xx

Day Two of intital fittings starts off much like the previous day except this time there’s a dresser to help with Austin getting in and out of costumes. As much as I’m happy to avoid incidents like yesterday, I do miss being so close to him. Ana, you can’t stop saying you want him to stop acting like your boyfriend and you want to be completely friendzoned, but then you complain you’re not helping him get dressed and undressed… I rub my temples at the thought. The day goes late again and by 8:45 PM, we start heading out.

Before I leave, I clean up the space and make sure everything is ready for pick up in the morning as a driver is coming to pick up Catherine’s costumes and bring back to her studio. I leave last again and lock up before heading to my car. Once again, Austin is leaning against my car, but this time he’s on the phone. I’m not sure who he’s talking to, but I hear him say, “No, it’s just not smart. I just got out of everything with Vanessa. I need to be alone for awhile…”

What isn’t smart? Should I eavesdrop or just interrupt? I decide to just listen for a few more minutes and hear Austin say, “She just started at this job, I can’t even risk that for her. What if we just hook up and then it’s awkward? She’d quit? That’s fucking awful, man.” I gulp, there’s no way he isn’t talking about me. What am I supposed to do? What does it mean he’s talking about our situation to someone else? Is that good or bad?

I decide I’ve heard enough and I make my way to my car putting myself in his line of sight. I see him start wrapping up his call and by the time I get to my car, he’s hanging up with whoever he’s talking to. I giggle and say, “Well, fancy meeting you here, Mr. Presley.” He beams at me and asks, “Ok, where are you taking me for a late dinner because I’m too wired to go home.” I smile at him and say, “Oh, where am I, assistant, taking, movie star, to dinner?”

I giggle and he laughs before saying, “Ok, ok. Where am I, actor not movie star, taking you, amazing more than an assistant, for dinner?” I laugh and say, “That sounds much better. What are you in the mood for? Like does diner food sound good?” Austin’s face turns into the biggest smile and I giggle as I say, “Well I’ll take that as a yes.”

Austin and I drive separately to a diner near my place. He beats me there and waits out front of the restaurant for me as I park. I freeze with embarrassment as I’m a terrible parallel parker. After many attempts at fitting into a spot, I finally get out and walk up to him giggling as I say, “Don’t judge my parking skills, I’m really just….bad at anything to do with driving.” He laughs and holds the door open for me as I walk ahead of him. We sit in a booth on opposite sides from each other as we look over the menu. After we order, we just go over the day and how much work it was for him to get in and out of certain leather costumes.

“Well, Baz and I are actually going to Memphis next week,” Austin says as he plays with this spoon in his coffee. “Aus, that’s amazing. Are you going to Graceland,” I ask with big eyes as I look at him instantly relaxing. It looks like he feels much more comfortable now than he did before we left the studio space.

“Anastasia, I can’t wait. We’re going to Graceland. They’re working to get me to meet Priscilla even,” he says as he looks up at me. His eyes stare right into mine like he’s looking for something. I give him a warm smile as I say, “Aus, that’s incredible. You have to really decompress before and just get in the best headspace for that, ya know?”

Austin looks at me deeply and then looks down as he says, “We’re going to record some songs in the studio Elvis recorded in too. I just cannot believe this is my life. This is what I’m doing for work?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Aus, of course it’s your life. You work so hard, and you’ve been chipping away to get to something like this,” I say firmly, but softly. He beams at me and asks, “Well you’re coming with us, right? It’s definitely something I need you there for.”

I glare at him. He needs me…? Before I can say anything, our waiter drops off our food and we both thank them. I mess with my eggs on my plate and say, “I feel like you and Baz should do this together. But you can call me so I can hear your singing.” I giggle and he doesn’t look pleased. “I’m gonna have him talk to you, you have to come,” he says very matter of fact-ly. I sigh as I look at him before I start to eat my food. He pulls his phone out and apologizes as he sends a text.

Our waiter comes back and Austin orders a vanilla milkshake and I stare at him as he laughs and says, “Our first phone call you said they were your favorite.” I smile at him and he laughs. “I can’t believe you remember that. Wow, that feels like it was so long ago,” I say and he looks at me. His eyes darken as he whispers, “Anastasia, I don’t forget anything you tell me.” Why does he have this effect on me?

My thoughts are interrupted as my phone is going off with a phone call from an unknown number. I apologize to Austin as I step away to answer the call and I’m met with a familiar voice, “Hi Ana, it’s Baz, sorry to call you late after a long day.” I giggle as I say, “Oh, hi Mr. Luhrmann, no it’s totally fine! What can I do for you?” Why is he calling me? Does he know I’m with Austin? I shouldn’t keep hanging out with him this is so unprofessional.

“Ana, please, it’s Baz. I was actually wondering if you’d be able to check over your schedule for next week as Austin and I are going to head to Memphis and go to Graceland. We’re going to do an in-depth private tour and start recording some songs for the film. I think you should come along so you can help with any content we want to record for promotion and be someone we all feel comfortable having in such an intimate, important moment,” he says firmly.

At first, I’m over the moon excited, but then I realize Austin definitely just texted him to ask me. I don’t want him speaking up for me or looking like he’s doing any favors for me…

“Mr. Luhrmann, I mean Baz,” I giggle as I continue saying, “I would be so honored. I can move around whatever I need and work from wherever! Plus, I know the studio is going to love the idea of having content of you both going there.” I smile as I look in Austin’s direction as I can see him clearly watching me on the phone. I stick my tongue out at him as I listen to Baz continue about their plans in Memphis.

“I’m really so honored to be included and I’ll coordinate with your team on booking transportation and putting together an itinerary,” I say and Baz responds with one of the best compliments I’ve ever received, “Ana, we’re so lucky to have you on this. Your attention to detail is going to help every step of the way. I’m glad you were assigned to us.”

I thank Baz for the amazing compliment, and we hop off the call. I head back to Austin at the booth and before I can sit, I giggle as I ask, “So what did you text Baz?” He smiles and says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smile at him as I sit across from him and sip on the milkshake waiting for me at the table. “Well, he asked me to join y’all on your trip to Memphis.” He beams at me and says, “Good, good. I told you I’d get you to come.”

I giggle and we spend the rest of the night talking about Graceland and him recording music. Austin really opens up and he looks so at ease. Eventually, I realize the time and say, “Aus, it’s almost midnight. And I have a long day at the office tomorrow.”

We both get up from the table and I stretch before we walk out. As I’m stretching, I see Austin’s eyes run up and down my body. His eyes darken and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. He walks me to my car and before I get in he says, “When are we hanging out again? We should watch some of that Elvis footage of him performing this weekend so I can prepare to record next week.”

I smile at him as I answer, “Yeah, that sounds nice. Are you free Saturday?” He beams at me and says, “You can come to my place this time and I may even cook us dinner.” I giggle and say, “I don’t know… what are your kitchen skills like?” He laughs and closes my car door as I slide into the seat.

[xxbunny-luv]

IM BACK! The story will resume tomorrow 🤍

Catch up here tehehehe

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j @lolllasblog (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-SIX – Remember The Whole “We’re Friends And Co-Workers” Mantra

SORRY FOR THE DELAY! i had some work drama and was offline for personal stuff 🥴

This is part TWENTY SIX of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Possessiveness, smidge of misogyny, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j @lolllasblog (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy xx

Austin looks at Catherine and then looks at me. His gaze is friendly, but I’m still on edge. Ana, you have straddled him. Felt him harden underneath you… He said he wanted to fuck you senseless. I blush as I think back to our encounters, but quickly try to hide it.

Ana, it’s okay. That was in the past. You’re friends and colleagues now. That’s it. I discuss with Catherine and Austin which look to try on first and Austin seems most excited for an iconic white Vegas era Elvis jumpsuit. This seems to be one Catherine is most excited about too. I pull it carefully off the rack, but before I can even get the piece off the hanger, Catherine says to Austin, “Well it’s time to get undressed before we get this on you.”

Austin lets out a nervous chuckle and looks at me. I try to give him a look to signal can you make it less obvious we have some weird chemistry, but it seems to not land. He bites down on his bottom lip as he pulls his shirt over his head…

My god, why does he get to look like that? His tanned chest is exposed and I just want to drop the costume, run over and jump on him. He’s so toned and hot. How am I supposed to keep it together? Austin locks eyes with me and his eyes darken. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he starts to pull his pants down.

Ana, just look away or something, my god. I start to mess with the jumpsuit and taking it off the hanger and when I look back up, Austin is just in some black briefs. Fuck me. He is so sexy. I wish I could lay him down and put my head between his…

Before I can finish my thought, I snap myself out of it and walk over to him with the jumpsuit. Baz comes in before Catherine and I can start to help Austin into the costume and asks for Catherine to come look at something. She looks at me and I just say, “I got it, don’t worry! If we need you, you’ll hear me yell for you.” I smile at her and she rubs my shoulder before walking out.

Great, now you’re alone with Austin and he’s only wearing underwear. Why did you do this to yourself? I look at Austin and he smiles an evil looking smile at me. Like he knows he won the battle or something.

“Alright, Mr. Butler, shall we make you into Elvis,” I ask as I smile at him. Good, try to keep it professional, Ana. He takes in a deep breath and jogs in place for a few seconds and then says, “Let’s do this, Anastasia.” I put the legs of the jumpsuit down so he can start to step into it and I guide his legs into each leg of the jumpsuit. As I’m helping him pull the legs up, he’s holding the top half of the jumpsuit. The jumpsuit is a tight fit and before we can get his arms into each arm of the suit, the legs are getting bunched up and twisting the torso area. I go to fix it and have to twist the leather on the thighs of each leg.

’m bent down adjusting the right leg first, twisting with both my hands the leather so it centers on his leg. I move to the left leg next and have both my hands on Austin’s left thigh and I look up at him to make sure he’s doing okay. His eyes are fixated on me, dark and he’s biting down on his bottom lip.

Well, this isn’t an ideal, friendly position now, is it? I try my hardest not to blush, but as I look down from his eyes, I realize Austin must also be noticing how unfriendly this position is. You can see the outline of Austin’s dick in the jumpsuit. My face is mere inches from his growing erection, and I can’t help but blush at the sight of it.

God, I just want to take this jumpsuit down and take him in my mouth. Feel the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat.

I look back up at him while still rubbing the fabric to move it on his thigh and he lets out a soft groan. Fuck.

I realize the jumpsuit is perfectly aligned and I release his leg as I stand up to help him into the top half of the costume. I’m behind him and guiding Austin’s arms into the costume and once he has both arms in, I come in front of him to help button it up. He’s looking at me with his darkened, blue eyes and his teeth still sinking into his bottom lip.

He grabs both my arms as I have them both fixing the chest of the costume. I can feel his growing erection on my stomach as I’m pressed against him. “Austin, I…,” I start to say, but Catherine interrupts me by saying, “Oh wow, Austin… this looks incredible. I… I’m speechless at how good you look and this is just a test costume.” I back up and Austin lets go of both my arms. His expression is disappointment, but then I see him beam as he turns around to look in the full-length mirror.

Catherine is adjusting the fit in a few places and I see her react subtly to something. I realize what she sees as I look at Austin in the mirror. Well maybe she’ll think he’s just cocky…ya know into himself in this look. I giggle softly and hope she didn’t hear me. Austin glares at me in the mirror so I know he heard me. Oops.

I decide to break the ice and say, “Austin, you look so great. Catherine, do you need any pins or need me to take any adjustment notes?” I smile at her and she looks at me in the mirror, “Ana, yes dear, that would be great. But first, Austin, do you wanna go show Baz and co?” She smiles at him, and Austin looks thrilled. He looks so happy. I love seeing him like this. I grab Austin some slides to put on quickly, which doesn’t compliment the look well, but better than the sneakers he was wearing as they’re easy on and off.

As soon as Austin walks out to where Baz is, Baz whistles and starts clapping. He looks so excited, and I’m just so elated to be here for this amazing moment. I always wanted to work on movies and Baz was a director who got me into movies. It feels like a full circle moment in my life and then I look at Austin.

My heart just feels so full looking at how happy he is. I haven’t known him long, but he just seems like such a good soul, and this is such a big moment for him. I clap alongside the Baz and the rest of the team. Austin looks a little embarrassed and Baz pulls him into a hug.

Almost an hour goes by with note taking, Austin and Baz working on some movements and other odds and ends in this costume before Catherine is ready for Austin to try on a simple suit that’s worn open, no shirt and a scarf to finish it all off. I’ve seen pictures of this exact look in one of the reference books we put together with Catherine’s team and it’s extremely sexy.

Catherine helps Austin get out of the jumpsuit and I put it back on a hanger on the rack as she helps him into the new look. I help with the scarf and as I’m tying around Austin’s neck, I blush a bit as I take him in this new look. He looks damn good; it’s not helping me remember the whole “we’re friends and co-workers” mantra I’ve been trying to keep in mind all day. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and as Austin is looking in the mirror, he looks over at me and whispers, “Stop that, Anastasia.” He follows Catherine out to show Baz and the crew the costume and he looks back at me with darkened eyes.

After the team sees Austin in this look, the team decides to wrap up for the night as it’s almost 8 PM. Austin changes pretty quickly and I put the suit back on the rack. I work with Catherine to organize the fitting room so it’s ready for the morning. Everyone heads out, but I stay behind to clean up any trash and organize a bit. As I lock up and head out to my car, I see Austin leaning against my car.

Great. Seems like it’ll be easy for me to get out of here and home to decompress after seeing this guy half naked all day.

I walk up to my car without saying anything and he says, “Well, fancy meeting you here.” I glare up at him and want to roll my eyes, but I burst out laughing. “Austin, how old are you? 84,” I giggle up at him. He laughs and I lean against my car with him. “So how do you feel? You looked so perfect in those costumes…,” I say quietly.

He looks over at me and I smile as I say, “Like Aus, I barely know you, but I’m just so proud of you and really just honored to be in the background of this experience. It already just feels…so important and I know you and Baz are just going to make it the best.” He lets out a breath it felt like he was holding and he moves his fingers into mine as he whispers, “Anastasia, I’m just so nervous… I don’t want to let anyone down.”

I move to stand in front of him and look him in the eyes as I say, “Aus, you aren’t going to let anyone down. Stop putting that pressure on yourself. You’re going to kill it, I can already feel it.” He grabs my hips and pulls me into him. Fuck, he’s so hot… I quickly react and out my hand out on his chest to stop him from completely pulling me in.

I look at him and whisper, “Friends, Austin. We’re just friends and we have to act like friends. I can’t handle the back and forth, I’m serious.” I look down so I’m not looking at him as I’m scared I’ll change my mind looking into his icy blue eyes.

He grabs my chin and pulls it up so I’m looking at him. Fuck, this is bad, I just want to jump into his arms and kiss him. “Anastasia, I’m sorry… I just feel so connected to you. You always say exactly what I need to hear but keep me on my toes at the same time…,” he says and he scratches the back of his head. He looks back at me and whispers, “It’s so hard to just be friends with you… I mean… you saw.” I blush immediately thinking of his hardening dick inches away from my face in that jumpsuit.

I giggle and look at him as I say, “It’s not easy for me, but you’re the one who said nothing can happen. You have to stop saying things like that or stop acting like this with me.”

He sighs, but before he can say anything, I hear his phone buzzing from his pocket. Saved by the bell… He pulls it out and says, “I’m sorry, it’s my dad, I have to take it or he’ll just keep calling.” I giggle and say, “I have to get home anyway, it’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Presley.”

He pulls me into a hug and kisses the side of my head. Oh fuck, my whole body…is just… I… Before I can have a complete meltdown, Austin answers his phone and watches me get into my car and closes the door for me. He waves at me and it seems like he’s waiting for me to drive away before getting into his car…

I’m gonna need to start keeping a mental list of his boyfriend behaviors… This is just… a lot.

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-FIVE – You Don’t Get To Pull The Boyfriend Card

This is part TWENTY FIVE of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Possessiveness, smidge of misogyny, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j @lolllasblog (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy xx A/N: This one is a bit short, but the next one is SPICY 🌶

The work week flies by as we’re busy getting ready for pre-production to start next week with Baz on Elvis. It feels so surreal this is my job. Austin and I have been texting a bit, but still not like it used to be. It’s been hard for me to figure out how to be around him. I know we were drunk, but last weekend when he told me he'd fuck me senseless, well I just can’t seem to forget him saying that…

I decide to not text him back yet and head home. I spend the weekend either relaxing at home or at the gym, yet it somehow is over in a flash. Sunday night, I’m getting another glass of wine and decide after spending a weekend alone to show the world I’m alive. I take a quick mirror selfie and post it on my Instagram story. I head back to the couch to continue my binge watch of The Sopranos.

About twenty minutes later, my phone is ringing, and I answer without even looking. I quietly answer, “Hello?” and I’m met with Austin’s voice. “Ana, can I come see you?” Not even a hello… Why is he like this? He kinda sounds drunk.

I giggle and say, “Well, hello to you too!” I hear Austin sigh and he says, “Anastasia, please.” I roll my eyes and answer, “Austin, it’s getting late and I’m gonna go to bed soon.” He laughs, “Ana, it’s not even 7 PM. Let me come over.”

I check the time and he’s right, it’s literally 6:30. I’m a little torn because I do want to see him, but I’m trying to keep some space between us. As I’m debating how to answer, Austin says, “You can’t post a photo like that after not texting me back….”

I don’t answer right away as I try to think of what he means. “Post a photo like what,” I ask him, completely confused. He scoffs and says, “Anastasia, you posted one thing. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean.” I’m still confused and then I realize he never even answered me that night he showed up at the bar… Is Austin Butler… cyber stalking me? I giggle at the thought and ask, “Austin, I really don’t know what you mean. What photo?” He groans and says, “Ana, I’m coming over.”

I change my tone as I realize once again, this is boyfriend behavior. This isn’t fair nor what we discussed. “Austin, I’m serious, I’m going to bed soon. Don’t come over. You can’t get all possessive over me when we’re just friends. You don’t get to pull the boyfriend card if you’re just my friend, which we already established is all you are.” I don’t wait for a response and hang up.

I think I was a bit harsh, but he keeps doing this with me. It isn’t fair not only because we agreed to just be friends, but because I’m really fucking attracted to him and I can’t keep talking myself off a ledge with him. I put my phone the “Do Not Disturb” setting, grab my wine and head back to my show. A few episodes later, after I get ready for bed, I decide to check my phone before going to sleep. 3 missed calls from Austin…. 6 unread texts. Oh boy.

“Ana, I’m sorry… Just let me stop by. I won’t even come up.”

“I’m just really drunk.”

“Anastasia, please just answer me.”

“Ana?”

“I know you don’t want to see me, but can you just call me back?”

“Ok, goodnight. At least I’ll see you Tuesday.”

I sigh as the last one was sent a few minutes ago. I want to stick to my guns. We decided to be friends. Him acting like this isn’t fair. I decide not to call him back, but just send him a quick text so I’m not completely ignoring him. I did get mad at him for ignoring me…

“Sorry Aus, I’m really tired. See you Tuesday, friend… xx”

I hit send, double check my alarm is set for the morning and go to sleep. Monday flies by as I spend the day prepping the rehearsal space for tomorrow’s fitting. It’s just to get measurements and test some sample pieces made in various fabrics before they move forward with actually making any costumes, but it’s still really exciting.

I can only imagine how exciting it is for Austin. Tuesday morning, I wake up earlier than normal and get ready for the day. I wear a white tee, jeans and some sneakers anticipating I’ll be doing a lot of running around. I stop by a coffee shop and get an assortment of pastries, some coffees for people I know orders for and a coffee traveler with cups to have available. I get to the space and set up the food and drinks I brought.

I then unpack a few kits for Catherine’s team and as I’m finishing up, I hear someone say, “Well, look who is here even earlier than me.” I immediately know it’s Austin and slowly turn around. He beams at me and I giggle as I say, “Well happy first day in preproduction on Elvis, Aus.” His eyes light up and he pulls me into a tight hug. Without even thinking, I envelope myself in his arms and he hugs me even tighter. I missed feeling him… But Ana, you’re just friends… I pull myself out of his hug and say, “I brought you your iced black coffee, it’s over here. Can I get you anything else?” I smile at him and he looks confused, but then heads to the coffee.

He takes a sip of his coffee and looks around the space. He smiles and I say, “It’s such a big day for you. How do you feel?” He looks over at me and says, “I’m so excited to be here. It feels so much more real now that we’re starting. And I’m so happy you’re here.” His gaze burns on me and I feel my cheeks burn red. I smile, but before I can say anything I hear Will, Austin’s manager, enter with Baz and Catherine. Well, it’s time… Elvis….

After a few hours of going through lookbooks Catherine and her costume team put together, I help her assistant, Greg, pull some pieces for Austin to try on and put them on a rolling rack. It’s just some test pieces of various iconic Elvis looks in different fabrics so they can see what looks best. Catherine looks each one over and then says, “Ok, Austin, are you ready to try on some looks?” She smiles at him and Austin lights up. It’s the sweetest look and I can’t help but smile with excitement for him.

I grab the rack and head towards a room we converted to a fitting room. After I roll the rack in the fitting room, Austin and Catherine head in. Before I can walk out, Catherine asks, “Oh, Ana, dear, my dresser wasn’t able to make it in today, but will be here tomorrow. Would you stay and help me?”

She smiles at me, but her eyes are filled with purpose. I smile back at her nervously, but say, “Of course. Anything you need!”

Great, me….help with dressing…Austin.

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-FOUR – Mr. Butler, It’s Ana, Please

This is part TWENTY FOUR of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Possessiveness, smidge of misogyny, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j @southstreetsunrise (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy xx

The weekend flies by and I get a few texts from Austin, but nothing other than casual conversation. It doesn’t feel like how we used to talk. I didn’t even bother replying to his last message. I’m disappointed. I always knew it couldn’t be anything but getting that close to him physically only made it clear how attracted I am to him. We had such an intense connection emotionally already, but physically, it was even stronger.

When I head into the office Monday, I have a calendar reminder for a big meeting with my boss, Alison, and a few people from Baz Luhrmann’s office to go over some pre-production schedules. I check the emails on the calendar invite and see Austin’s manager listed, but no Austin. I assume this clears me from an unexpected visit with Austin.

Before the meeting needs set up, I run to the bathroom to subtly fix up my appearance as I hadn’t planned on seeing anyone as important as Baz today. I’m wearing a white tank with grey pants and some platform sneakers. My hair is up, but I’m able to take it down and make it look presentable. I put on some lip oil and glide on some perfume I had in my bag. I decide it’s enough to make me look effortless, but on top of it.

As I head back to my desk, I grab the binders I’ve put together for calendars, scheduling, contacts, studio assignments and more. I bring them to a conference room and set up a place for each attendee from the email. As I head back to my desk, I see him. Austin’s in some jeans and a graphic tee headed towards the conference room I just walked out of with his manager. I don’t think he’s seen me yet, so I go back into the conference room.

Shit, Ana what are you doing? You need stuff from your desk, you can’t just hide in here. Get out of here!

I panic and pretend I’m busy doing what I was already in the room doing when Austin’s manager, my boss and Austin all come in through the door.

Austin looks at me and his face lights up, but he sees my general expression hasn’t changed and his face falls. Alison doesn’t notice this interaction at all and says, “Ana, looks good in here. I’ll go see if everyone else is here while I grab my…” I cut my boss off as I see a chance for me to get out, “I’ll grab your laptop for you. I have to get a few things from my desk as well. Anything else you need?” I smile at her, and she looks relieved as she says, “Just my planner and a pen if you don’t mind.” I nod as I walk towards the door and say, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Butler and Mr. Bryson.”

I politely smile at both Austin and his manager. I walk out quickly towards Alison’s office first and when I’m headed back to my desk, I see Austin headed the same direction. What is he doing?

As I get to my desk, I go to grab my laptop and knock off some papers. Great, just great. I bend down to pick them up and when I stand back up, Austin is leaning over my desk. “Are you just gonna ignore me, Anastasia,” he asks dryly and his eyes look like they’re searching me for more than just a yes or no answer. He seems like he’s studying my entire body and reaction.

My body betrays me as it usually does when Austin is around; my cheeks burn red as I’m blushing, I can feel myself breathing quicker than normal like I can’t get enough oxygen or something and subconsciously, I bite down on my bottom lip while I look at him. Worst of all, I can feel my nipples harden as I think about our last interaction together. I pull myself together and say, “Mr. Butler, it’s Ana, please.” I smile at him, and he looks the opposite of pleased. “Anastasia, come on. We said we’d be friends,” he says firmly, but like he's pleading with me at the same time. I giggle and say, “You’re right. Do you wanna follow me back to the conference room?” He sighs and motions for me to lead the way.

He's following right behind me, but I can feel him as he leans down and whispers in my ear, “Is this tank top really work appropriate, Anastasia?” I can feel myself turning bright pink as I blush in reaction to thinking he’s checking me out, but then I panic and look down at my chest. I can see my nipples through my tank. Ana, would it kill you to wear a bra… to work… I roll my eyes though as I start to think who is he to comment on how I’m dressed.

“Well, Mr. Butler, this is a casual office, we do a lot of physical work so we’re able to dress as we see fit unless there’s big executives coming in from the main office,” I say as I turn around from him and stick my tongue out at him quickly. I giggle and turn back around as we make our way to the conference room. I open the door for him to enter, but as he walks in the room, he leans down and whispers, “Stick that tongue out at me again, Anastasia.” His eyes are dark as he grazes my hand with his and he enters the room where now Baz and some of his team are.

Baz smiles at Austin and then at me as well, which brings me back to earth. This is your job. Look at the people you’re in a room with. I straighten myself out and say, “Nice to see you, Baz, Catherine and Greg! I have preproduction binders set out for everyone along with pens and paper. If anyone needs anything else, please let me know.” I smile and after some small talk, Alison leads the meeting.

After an hour of fine-tuning what prep will take place when, Baz turns to Austin and his manager, Will, to go over some fittings that need scheduled with Catherine and her team. I chime in and say, “Austin’s schedule looks clear at the same time as Catherine having available time next Tuesday and Wednesday, which is also when we have the rehearsal space cleared from the lot as they’ll have wrapped up the current production in that space. We could utilize the space there before it starts getting taped off for rehearsals if you wanted. That way anyone who needs to come in, we won’t be crushed for space in a small office.”

Baz and Catherine both light up as they talk over one another saying it’s perfect. I coordinate with Catherine and her assistant so I can help getting anything set up in the space and clear anything they need to drop off. I give them both my cell so it’s easier to get in touch and I look up to see Austin watching me. He looks like he’s listening to the conversation, but also like he’s happy to see me in action. I blush looking at him and I see him beam at me. I giggle and get back to my conversation.

Baz looks over the updated calendar on my laptop to see if any additional adjustments are needed and he asks, “Now Alison, are you sending Ana to every rehearsal or…” My boss nods before Baz can finish and says, “Basically, if Austin is doing something Elvis related, Toby wants Ana there. Ana will not only take notes, but that way if you need something Warner Brothers can provide, Ana will know who to reach out to make it happen. This production is one of the top priorities and we’ve learned from previous productions, it’s best to have someone from our end there at all times just to be a mixture of a handler, assistant, provider, just whatever is needed.”

Baz nods and smiles at me and then Austin as he says, “Well I guess you two are about to be extremely close.” I politely smile at Baz and nod in Austin’s direction. Austin’s eyes lock on me and say, “I can’t wait.”

After we wrap up the meeting, everyone starts to leave and I stay behind to clean up the conference room. As I’m headed out, Austin appears in the doorway and backs me into the conference room again. “Austin, what are you doing,” I quietly snap at him. He looks at me and as the door closes, he firmly says, “Why are you acting like you don’t know me? I thought we had become pretty good friends.”

He looks disappointed as he stares at me. His face looks as if he’s searching my body’s reaction for an answer. I sigh and stare back at him. He has disappointed you too many times, Ana. Don’t go back on it now.

I sigh before I answer him, “I’m sorry, I just get some whiplash from being open with you and then you telling me you have to back off. I’d rather play it neutral and professional.” I look at him blankly and his eyes fall. I see Austin sink into himself and he says, “Play, huh? I just thought we were friends, Anastasia.” I frown as I realize I hurt him. He really had opened up to me and let me be there for him as a friend. I just got twisted in my attraction to him… No, Ana… he was flirting with you. You were on top of him at some point…

“Ok, Austin. We can be friends, but no more flirting. No physical touching. Just friends. That way there is no confusion,” I say and look into his eyes. His eyes instantly lighten up, but as he looks me up and down, they darken. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and then his eyes meet mine. “Alright, Anastasia. A deal. But physical touching, let’s discuss.” I giggle and say, “Mr. Presley, that doesn’t sound like a deal.”

He laughs back, but before he can say anything, Will, Austin’s manager, sticks his head in the conference room. “Hey Austin, we need to head out.” I smile at Will and Austin says, “2 minutes and I’ll be in the car.” Will nods and leaves the room.

I grab my stuff off the table for a second time and head to leave the conference room. As I head towards the door, Austin opens it for me and says, “After you, ma’am.” I giggle and as I walk past him, he asks, “So when am I seeing you next?” I look back at him and say, “I believe it’s in your calendar, Mr. Butler.” He scoffs and rubs my shoulder as he heads towards to leave my office building.

Being friends with him is gonna be tough….

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-THREE – Thisty Boy, Huh?

This is part TWENTY THREE of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Drinking, Possessiveness, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

Austin follows me up to my apartment and as we are approaching my door, I drop my keys. I bend down to pick them up and once again, I think the alcohol is overtaking me. Instead of bending down appropriately in the mini leather skirt I have on, I decide to seductively bend over to retrieve my keys.

As I’m standing back upright, I can hear Austin audibly let out a groan. Well, someone is still attracted to me. I giggle as I unlock my door and Austin’s arm blocks me from entering. He pulls me back into him and he whispers in my ear, “Anastasia, you have to play fair here…” I sigh and, in my head, I know he’s right. I grab his arm and giggle, “You’re right, Mr. Presley.”

As we enter my living room, I kick off my heels and head to the kitchen for some water. I grab him some water as well and head back to the living room to give him his glass. He immediately takes it and drinks it all. I giggle and say, “Thirsty boy, huh?” He laughs and his eyes go dark as he says, “You have no idea.” I giggle again and he bites down on his bottom lip. God, he is so sexy. Why can’t we just…. He must know what I’m about to think as he is looking me up and down, as if he is drinking me in. I decide two can play at this game.

“Hey Aus, can you get the zipper on the back of my shirt? I can get it with a hanger normally, but if I have company…” I giggle at him. He immediately gets up and I turn my back to him while I hold my hair out of the way. He slowly undoes the zipper on my top, but what I didn’t expect was him to fully undo it causing my top to be completely undone in the back. I grab the front so I don’t expose myself to him as I’m not wearing a bra. I feel his fingers trace where the zipper was on my now bare back. Fuck…his touch on my skin…Ana, get out of this.

I decide to pretend this has no effect on me and giggle as I say, “Thank you, Mr. Presley.” I look back at him and he looks on edge. His eyes are dark and he’s biting down hard on his bottom lip. I giggle as I walk towards my bedroom and say, “I’m gonna get out of this, I’ll be right back.” In my room, I change into a white tank and I slide out of my skirt.

As I’m going to grab some shorts, I can hear movement in my room. I turn around and Austin is in the doorway. I blush as I’m just wearing a tank and a tiny red lacy thong, which I had picked based on how small it was so I wouldn’t have any underwear lines in my skirt. My cheeks are burning red as he looks me up and down with his icy blue eyes. I decide, mostly due to the alcohol, that I have the upper hand here. He crashed my night out. He asked to come up to my apartment. He came into my room while I was changing.

As I decide to embrace having the advantage in our situation, his expression changes and he quietly says, “I’m gonna go before I do something I can’t take back, Anastasia.” Why is he always doing this to me… It isn’t fair. I sigh and look down at my feet. I move quickly to my dresser, pull out some shorts and slide into them. Austin never takes his eyes off of me. I walk over to him and quietly say, “You have to stop doing this to me. You asked to come up and I said no… Then I agree and now you wanna leave?”

I roll my eyes at him and walk past him in the doorway back towards my living room. He grabs my arm and brings me towards him. It feels as if his gaze burns through me. The tension between us is thick and anything but friendly. “Anastasia, I don’t want to do this. I want to throw you on the bed and rip off your panties and fuck you senseless, but I can’t do that. I’m thinking of the work we’re about to start together.”

I glare at him. I feel like I don’t know how to breathe. Ana, say something… Did he really just say that? I…. Austin moves closer towards me and pulls my chin up so I’m looking up at him. He sighs and says, “You don’t wanna know how hard this is for me. I wasn’t sure I could feel this light and happy around someone after how the last few months have been for me. And then you look like this.”

He looks down at my body, his eyes lingering on my breasts. He glides his finger from holding my chin up down my neck to my shoulder and then down my arm. I look down towards his groin where I can visibly see a growing erection. I bite down on my lip and he brings me out of a trance, “Anastasia, I have to go. I have to be responsible here.”

I sigh and nod my head. “Are you gonna ignore me again now or are we still at least friends,” I quietly ask while looking away from him. He grabs my face softly and points it up at him as he says, “I’m gonna text you so much this weekend you’ll wish I was ignoring you.” I giggle and say, “Never.”

I sigh and walk with him towards my door. Before he leaves, Austin turns around and pulls me into a hug. I try to keep it as friendly as possible, but I give into my emotions and tightly hold on to him.

This is the second time he’s done this to you, Ana. Have some respect for yourself…

“Goodnight, Austin,” I say firmly. He looks down at me before letting go of our hug. He looks disappointed. He moves a strand of my hair from my face behind my ear and says, “Anastasia, I’m really sorry. Goodnight.” He walks out and I’m once again, devastated.

Why do I let him do this?

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-TWO – Don’t Say Yes, Don’t Say Yes

This is part TWENTY TWO of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Drinking, Possessiveness, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

Austin looks over at Kelsey who doesn’t give her approval exactly; she looks at me and I nod to signal it’s fine. Kelsey nods back and says loudly in my direction while looking at Austin, “I’ll be over at the table waiting for you, Ana.” I rub her arm as she walks away. Austin looks down at me and lets out what sounds like a groan. “So, what did you want to talk about that couldn’t wait until tomorrow, Austin,” I ask with a bit of an attitude. I think I’m in the right to have an attitude. I was out with my friends and he shows up… I already told him I’d talk to him tomorrow…

He bites down on his bottom lip and I bite mine back. He lets out a little moan as his eyes darken and he grabs my hand. “Austin, what are you doing,” I demand, and he leads me outside the bar and to the side street. It’s quieter and we’re alone. I look at him and he looks me up and down. He still doesn’t say anything, so I ask again, “Austin, what are you doing? What do you have to tell me? How did you even know where I was?”

He looks at me and sighs. I’m over this, I’m leaving. He rubs the back of his head and I turn to leave as I say, “Austin, if you have nothing to say, I’m going back to my friends.” Panic rushes over his eyes as he says, “No, Anastasia, wait. Don’t go. I just…” I turn back towards him and glare up at him motioning for him to continue. He sighs again and says, “I just didn’t know what to say to you after our weekend together. I’m not back with Vanessa, I know how it looks…” He looks sad and he gulps before he continues, “My team wanted us to go to the Hollywood premiere so the focus would be on the Elvis news and the movie, not us breaking up.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he says, “Here, I can show you their messages to us.”

I sigh as I think it over. He doesn’t really owe me anything… We’re just friends. He looks hurt too. “Austin, it’s fine, you don’t owe me anything. We’re just friends…,” I say my thoughts out loud and smile at him. He looks a little relieved, but not as light as he normally does. “So what do you say we go back inside and you can meet my friends? I’ll buy you a drink,” I smile bigger at him. He smiles back, but not his most convincing.

“Please, Aus. Let’s celebrate your premiere at least…,” I giggle, and he lets out a real smile. I grab onto his arm and start to pull him towards the bar. He looks down at me and rubs my cheek with his thumb. I can feel my cheeks burning red.

Ana, stop blushing. You’re doing so good. He pulls my chin up so I’m looking at him and he quietly says, “Thank you… I really missed you, Anastasia.”

My heart is racing… Why does he have this effect on me? How should I respond? I wanna keep it professional, but I also wanna jump his bones.

I decide to meet my subconscious in the middle and say, “I missed you too, Aus. Let’s go celebrate that movie of yours.” I smile looking up at him while he’s still holding my chin and he beams down at me. There’s that famous Austin Butler smile. I giggle and he says, “Let’s go. I wanna meet your friends.” I giggle and he releases my face from his soft grip. I instantly miss his touch…

Ana, get it together. Did you forget how he ignored you all week? How you felt when you saw him with Vanessa? He isn’t available even if they are broken up. I try to keep a happy face as we walk back into the bar towards where my friends are seated. As we walk in their direction, he turns back at me and leans into whisper, “Should I buy everyone a round and then we head to the table? Make my best first impression.” He smiles at me but looks like he’s searching for me to tell him exactly what to do.

This is boyfriend behavior…

I smile at him and nod as I say, “Yeah, that will give you a few extra points.” I giggle and we head towards the bar.

As we make our way to my friends, I see Kelsey studying him and her look to him is definitely not friendly. He introduces himself to the rest of the group and still, everyone except Kelsey is extremely welcoming and kind. Kels is short and comes across a bit rude; I glare at her and she makes a face signaling like “what do you want me to do?” I make a face back at her hoping she decodes it to make an effort with Austin.

I think she takes the hint as she raises her glass and says, “Let’s cheers to our new friend Austin and his new movie coming out.” She smiles at me, not Austin, as she says it. I take this as a monumental effort on her part and join in. I look at Austin who has the biggest smile on his face and says, “Thank you… I’m happy to celebrate with y’all. It’s exactly how I wanted to spend my night.” When he says that last part, he’s looking right at me.

Fuck…

After a few hours, we’re all a bit drunk. One by one, we leave in Ubers and at the end, it’s just me and Austin. He looks down at his feet and then up at me. I smile at him and he bites down on his bottom lip. God, it’s so hot when he does that. He moves closer to me and pulls me into a hug. “I really am so happy I got to be with you tonight. I’m sorry about this week, Anastasia.”

My heart sinks a bit; I had forgotten about what happened earlier this week. I get lost in my thoughts that feel jumbled due to mixed emotions and all the drinks. I look up at him as he’s still hugging me and his eyes darken as he looks into mine.

I’m so confused with what he wants with me. He’s hugging me and holding onto me like a boyfriend would… but he was just at a major event with his ex… Pretending to be together… and he told me he can’t do this.

My thoughts talk me out of the situation, and I pull myself out of our hug. He looks confused and I say, “Austin, you said you can’t do anything with me. We can’t act like this.” I say it not in a very convincing tone, but physically I put some distance between us. Austin’s expression is confused, and he looks down at his feet as he quietly says, “You’re right… I just… It’s not how I want it to be, Anastasia.” He looks up at me and moves a bit closer towards me. I should put the distance between us again, but I don’t want to…

I sigh and almost in a whisper say, “I should get an Uber and go home.” I pull my phone out and Austin’s hand stops me as he says, “No, I’ll get you home. I have a car on the way.” I look up at him and give him a small smile as I say, “Ok.”

I’m trying so hard not to be as open and flirtatious as I want to be. I want to have his arms around me with my back to him. I want to be wrapped up in his scent. I want to feel the warmth from his body around mine. Instead, I’m standing away from him, looking at my feet. Eventually, a car pulls up and he says, “This is us.”

We make our way to my place and as we pull up, he quietly says, “Can I come up for a bit?” I look at him and say, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I’m proud of myself for saying no as I really thought the drinks would outvote my smart thinking.

I go to get out of the car and stumble a bit and before I know it, Austin is outside of the car holding his hand out for me. “What service,” I giggle and smile at him while taking the assistance. He pulls me into a hug and whispers in my ear, “Can I please come up? No funny business, just to talk, Anastasia.”

Don’t say yes, don’t say yes.

The drinks must hit me or something because as I’m yelling at myself in my head to say no, I open my mouth and say, “Yeah, you can come up for a little bit.”

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-ONE – We Need To Talk, Now, Anastasia

This is part TWENTY ONE of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Drinking, Possessiveness, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

After Austin leaves, I decide against laying down on the couch and crying. I jump in the shower and slowly get ready for bed. It’s almost 8:30 PM by the time I’m done with my skincare and decide I’m tired enough for bed. I wake up to no texts from Austin the next day and I’m a little disappointed. I don’t want to be the first one to say anything, so I decide to just get ready for the day.

The next few days fly by at work and by the time it’s Friday, I still haven’t heard from Austin… I know tonight is the big premiere for “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.”

The premiere is a big deal for Austin; not only is it a huge accomplishment, I mean it’s a Quentin Tarantino movie with Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio, but it’s his first big even with the press since his casting as Elvis was announced. You decide to bite the bullet and send him a text. Have fun at the premiere tonight…miss you. No, don’t say that… Don’t be so desperate, Ana.

“Have fun at the premiere tonight, Mr. Presley! xx”

I type up the message and hit send. I don’t want to overthink it and put my phone away. Hours go by and Austin never texts back.

I wish he had his read receipts on… Did I do something to make him not want to talk to me? It’s been five full days… Not a peep since he left my place on Sunday…

Disappointment washes over me, but I look at the time on my computer and see it’s a little after 6 PM. I decide it’s a good time to leave work and begin to grab my things. As I’m putting away my laptop into my bag, my boss, Alison, walks by on her way out and stops by my desk, “Austin looks great at the premiere, which is great for us,” she says. “Oh, I haven’t seen any pictures yet. I wanna see!,” I giggle and pull out my phone.

What the… My heart sinks… Austin looks incredible, but he’s with Vanessa…

I thought he said they broke up… I knew they could get back together, but so quickly?

While I’m panicking in my head, I hear Alison cough. Yeah, Ana, your boss… This is WORK. “He looks great! I can’t wait to check out clips of him talking about his casting in Elvis. I should splice it together or something for Baz’s social media,” I say and smile up at her. Her eyes light up, “That would be incredible because ya know… the social team is already gone for the weekend. Speaking of, go home! It’s Friday night! Do you have plans?” I giggle and say, “No plans, but I feel like I should go out or something. I didn’t really do much last weekend since I had car trouble.”

We head out and when I get to my car, I text my friends asking to go out. I’m usually a homebody, so my friends are not used to me asking to go out. I could use a drink…or four. And a good time with my friends, just letting loose. Immediately, my best friend Kelsey answers, “YOU WANNA GO OUT??? YES LET’S GOOO ALLLLL OUT BBY!” I laugh and head home.

As I’m walking into my apartment, I see over 20 texts from my group chat with my friends. I giggle as I text back the only requirement is there’s alcohol, I don’t drive and it’s somewhere we can sit. I wanna dress up and wear heels, but I’m not about standing in them…

I head to the kitchen, grab some wine and head to my bathroom to shower and get ready for the night. Around 9:30, my friend Nicole texted me she was on her way in an Uber to pick me up. Shit, better get dressed. I head to my closet without a plan and grab a black leather mini skirt, black corset top and some black heels. When in doubt, we just wear all black.

I get dressed, put on some more lotion and perfume, and then go to head downstairs. As I’m finishing my drink, I hear my phone going off with a phone call, not a text. Okkkk Nicole, I’m coming!

I grab my phone, chug my wine and then grab my purse to head downstairs. I answer the phone as I’m headed down to my apartment’s entrance, “Nicole, I’m coming down. I’ll be there in a sec-“ I’m cut off midsentence and my heart falls into my stomach… “It’s uhh not Nicole. It’s Austin…,” says the deep voice on the other end of the phone.

Fuck Ana, why didn’t you check to see who it was? Why is he calling now? Shouldn’t he be with Vanessa? Damn, Ana, cool it. He’s a coworker, that’s it!

“Oh, sorry! Hi Austin! I’m headed out, can I text you tomorrow,” I ask dryly. Yeah, keep it professional… He sighs, “Oh, I guess it is Friday night. I just wanted to talk to you about some stuff…. I guess I can call you tomorrow.”

Don’t do it, Ana. Don’t give in. “Ok, talk to you tomorrow Aus…tin,” I say making sure I don’t call him a nickname and stick to formalities. As I’m saying bye to him and before I hang up, I hear my friend yelling from the Uber, “Dammmmn, Ana! I can’t go out with you dressed like THAT,” Nicole yells.

Before I manage to hang up, Austin groans and says, “Ana, where are you going?” I giggle and say, “I’m not sure, but I really have to go! I’ll text you later.” I hang up and am happy I had some wine before so I had the courage to stick to my guns with him.

I get in the Uber and head off to wherever my friends decided to go. We get to a nice bar and meet up with our other friends. As we’re walking to where they’re seated, my best friend Kelsey gets up and runs over to me, “Anaaaa, you’re here!” I laugh and realize my two glasses of wine have me behind everyone else. I grab my best friend and we head to the bar to get me caught up drink wise. As we’re headed back, my friend takes a video of me dancing with my martini and says, “Everyone on Instagram is about to reply to this shocked you’re out drinking, Ana!” I’m not a big social media user, but I see the video with our location tagged, decide I look good and repost it on my story. I put my phone back down on the table and just catch up with my friends as I unwind and try not to think about Austin with Vanessa. After a few more drinks, I realize my phone was going off. I have a missed call and now a text from… Mr. Presley.

I sigh and check my phone. As I’m reading the text, I gulp and I can feel my cheeks burning. Kelsey must gauge my reaction and she grabs my phone from my hands. I don’t even try to hide it from her and she reads the last message on my phone, grabs my hand and pulls me up dragging me away from our group.

“Ana, this text…. “Anastasia, I saw your post… I’m coming to see you” this is not a friendly text! He has a girlfriend! You work together,” Kelsey scolds me firmly, but quietly so strangers around us can’t overhear. I sigh and lean into whisper, “Can we get another drink? I need to catch you up….”

We head to the bar and as soon as I get a drink, I take a sip and then tell Kelsey everything. The flirting, Austin saying him and Vanessa broke up, him sleeping at my apartment, the way I straddled him, him saying nothing could happen and end with him ignoring my text about the premiere only for me to see photos of him with Vanessa on the red carpet…

Kelsey’s mouth is dropped and she orders us another round of drinks. Uhh, I feel a little drunk… I order a water and feel a bit better right away. Buzzed, but not too drunk.

As Kelsey is going on about how I need to forget about Austin and treat it like work, she stops midsentence. “Uhh, Ana, he’s really here,” she whispers. She plays it off cool, but I don’t. I turn around and see Austin right away. Tall, his dyed dark hair, in jeans and an opened buttondown and his icy blue eyes, which lock on me right away. He looks sad at first and then his eyes darken and he bites his bottom lip. He is definitely checking me out as he looks me up and down slowly. He looks like he’s drinking me in.

Fuck, what am I supposed to do now? I look at Kelsey and groan. I chug my drink and before I’m done, another espresso martini appears in front of me. I grab the drink and go to walk away from the bar back to our friends, but Austin steps right in front of me. Fuck, he’s so hot. I look up at him and he bites his lip while he caresses my cheek with his thumb, he leans down and whispers, “You look so fucking good, Anastasia.”

I have goosebumps everywhere. Why does he have this effect on me? I just wanna jump on him here, in front of everyone. I keep it together and say loudly, “Oh, nice to see you! I didn’t know I invited you. Where’s Vanessa?” He looks a bit taken aback by my words and I regret them right away. What are you doing, Ana?

I don’t know what to say next, but he grabs my chin and whispers into my ear, “We need to talk, now, Anastasia.”

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART TWENTY – Ana, What ARE You Doing? Get Off Of Him

This is part TWENTY of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

I get ready quickly making myself presentable, but as if I didn’t do anything. I put on some lotion, perfume and then put on a different white, crop tank and some white biker shorts. I head to the kitchen and Austin is sitting at the island. He looks up at me and smiles. I look at his breakfast spread he made and say, “Oh my god, eggs and turkey bacon with avocado toast is literally my dream breakfast.” He laughs and says, “Sit.” I feel my cheeks burn at his demand and sit next to him.

After we eat breakfast, I do the dishes and he jumps on the counter next to me. “So where am I buying your groceries at,” he asks. I giggle and say, “Well my Sunday routine is usually the farmer’s market, Erewhon and then Trader Joe’s.” He smiles and says, “let’s do it.” We spend the day together running errands and I’m a little sad when we finish up at Trader Joe’s. I’ve been with him for well over 10 hours and it doesn’t feel like long enough. We pull back to my place and he helps me carry up all the groceries. He seems to linger in my kitchen and as I’m putting away cans in a cabinet, I lean on my tippy toes to get to the space I need, he comes behind me and grabs it to put it up for me. I can feel him growing hard as he leans into me pinning me between the counter and his groin. I feel my cheeks warm up and I let out a soft moan without meaning to. Ana, keep it together. He brings his hand down from the can and puts it on my shoulder. I didn’t know putting away groceries could be so…erotic?

He rubs my shoulder slowly and then pulls himself away from me. My body instantly misses feeling him pushed into my backside. I see him pacing around my kitchen island and wonder what he’s thinking. He clearly has some attraction to me. Maybe he also is uncomfortable we work together. Ana, he just broke up with his girlfriend… of 8 years…. He isn’t interested in you.

I smile at him and he says, “I’m kinda sad I have to leave.” I look at him and he genuinely looks sad. I say, “Well we could watch some Elvis footage I have to bring to you since I pretended to have it dropped off the first time.” I giggle and he smiles, “Lead the way, my hero.” I giggle, but immediately turn red. My cheeks are on fire as I realize this means he remembers me saying this same thing about him this morning…

I grab us some sparkling water and glasses as I head to the living room. I place the water on the coffee table and head to my TV to set up the converted footage they gave me on Blu-Ray. “I think we can start with this footage and that way the projector and reels are all easy for you to take home with you,” I say as I mess with my very inexpensive Blu-Ray player hoping it works. I have to mess with the wires behind the TV and as I’m essentially on all fours messing with wires, I feel Austin get up and come behind me. “Do you need help,” Austin says as he takes in a deep breath. I turn my head to look back at him and giggle, “Every time I use this, I have to mess with the wires until it randomly connects.” I assume he’s going to just take over, so I go to back up, but instead he leans forward to help me, so I back straight into him. My ass is straight in his crotch and I back right into it.

Instead of doing the responsible thing and getting out of this suggestive position, I push my ass back a bit even further into what feels like an erection. Ana, what are you doing? We went over this….you cannot play with fire here. Your job. I hear him swallow a bit and I decide to listen to my subconscious to back off. “Sorry, let me just move and you can play electrician for me,” I giggle as I roll out from underneath him. He sighs and kind of looks disappointed. Am I imagining things? He looks a bit let down. I’m sitting next to him on the floor and realize I had brought the remote with me to the floor and it’s now on the opposite side of Austin.

Ok, you can either reach under him or get up to get the remote. You know the more professional, friendly decision, Ana. I go against my better judgement and reach my arm under Austin and pull for the remote. It’s a bit further than I realized, and I slide my body under him a bit. I giggle and I hear him swallow a bit. I get the remote and as I’m sliding my body out from under him, he puts his hand on my shoulder stopping me. He opens his mouth to say something, but the TV lights up and starts playing the sound from the disc I had put in. “Success,” I giggle and pull myself out from under him. “Thank you, Mr. Presley,” I giggle and head back to the couch.

We spend a few hours watching various footage, interviews and performances of Elvis and eventually it’s dark out. As the current disc we’re watching ends, he looks over at me. We’re both laying down with our legs on the couch, but opposite ends, facing each other. He playfully hits my foot and says, “Ya know for such a small person, you have big feet.” I immediately pull my feet back and sit up as I say, “Hey! My feet are not big!” He laughs at my reaction and sits up but crawls on the couch towards me as he teases, “I think my new nickname for you is Bigfoot.” I giggle, “Nooooo that’s so ugly!” I pull my feet towards myself, but he grabs one and pulls it towards him.

In doing so, he pulls my full body towards him and he’s now kneeling over me with both my legs between him as he hovers over me. I giggle and say, “You can’t call me bigfoot it’s not nice.” He smiles and his eyes darken as he scans my body beneath him. His gaze lingers on my stomach and then he looks further down. Well he’s not looking at my feet… maybe thin white biker shorts with no underwear to hang out with essentially your boss wasn’t a good idea, Ana.

I go to pull myself up and as the clumsy girl I am, I begin to buckle over, but Austin grabs me and pulls me into him as he sits up. This maneuver lands me right on top of him, seated in his lap facing him on my couch. I can instantly feel him growing hard beneath me. His erection is pressing in between my legs and I let out a slight moan without even thinking.

Ana, what ARE you doing? Get off of him. This is the opposite of professional. The man just got out of an eight year relationship… and you work FOR him.

I look into his eyes and they’re dark, staring at me. His lips are parted and I can hear him breathing. I bite down on my bottom lip and look down at where his erection is growing into me and when I look back at him, his eyes are even darker and he’s biting down hard on his bottom lip. I go to get off his lap as reality waves over me, but he holds my back and keeps me seated on his lap. What is he doing? We have to keep this professional… for my sake.

“Ana, I know you feel it too... There’s something there between us… But I don’t know what to do… It’s your job… My first big job…,” he says as he sighs and continues to take in my body on top of him. He groans a bit and then starts sliding his hand down my back. Breathe, Ana, breathe. He might be hot and funny and smart, but is he worth losing your job in your dream industry over? “Anastasia, all I want to do is kiss you… and you have no idea what other things I think about doing with you, to you…,” he whispers. Fuck, he is so hot. I just want to… He interrupts my thoughts by whispering, “I can’t do anything with you. It isn’t right with what’s coming up for us both…” Ana, you knew this… Why am I so disappointed?

I sigh and I can tell he sees the disappointment on my face, Austin softly rubs my cheek and says, “Anastasia, it isn’t you… it’s quite the opposite, baby.” Baby… I feel myself burn bright red. All I can muster up to say is, “Ok, Aus” and I slide off his lap. He sighs, holds my hand and rubs my hand with his fingers lightly. Austin looks disappointed as well. He sighs, stands up and instead of letting go of my hand, he pulls me off the couch and up into a hug. It’s a tight hug that feels different than other hugs we’ve shared. He whispers in my ear, “I barely know you, but I know this isn’t what I really want Anastasia.” I look up at him and he hugs me tighter.

Why does it feel like I’ve known him for years? If he feels like that too… I blush and disappointment waves over me again. He kisses the top of my head and I swear I forget how to breathe for a moment. Why does this feel like…. a break up? “I’m gonna go since it’s getting late, but I’ll text you, ok, Anastasia,” he whispers. My heart sinks. I don’t want him to go… almost 24 hours together and it’s not enough. Once again, I can’t really find the words so all I can get out is, “Ok.” He pulls back a little from our hug and pulls my chin up so I’m looking at him. His eyes go dark, he teeth sink into his bottom lip and it feels as if he’d kiss me, but he rubs my cheek with his thumb. He lets go of me and walks towards the door. Before he makes it to the door, he turns around and says, “Thank you for a perfect night and Sunday, Anastasia.” He opens the door and leaves.

Fuck, I think I really like him… This is bad… I burst into tears and I know it’s because I feel overwhelmed. I really do like him… But he just got out of a long-term, serious relationship. He could probably get back together with her… We work together. He’s technically who I work for. This is not a good situation, but it’s just the way I feel when I’m with him… has never happened to me before. I’ve never felt so conflicted.

I know my job is the more important thing here, but I can’t stop thinking about how fast I felt this way towards Austin, and we now have literal years of work together ahead of us…

What am I gonna do?

[xxbunny-luv]

The Actor & I: PART NINETEEN – God, I Hope He Really Feels The Same Way

This is part NINETEEN of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: IT STARTS GETTING SMUTTY IN HERE SOON! Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties​ @its-funny-til-its-not​ @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

There are no words for how much I’m blushing as Austin leans away from me and takes the blanket out of my hand. He looks me in the eyes and I gulp.

What I’m doing to him? What about what he is doing to me? God, he’s so sexy.  Ana, snap out of it. You work together. For years to come.

As I’m mentally yelling at myself to not throw away my career for what I imagine to be an earth-shattering time in bed with Austin, I nervously smile at him and reach for a pillow off my bed.

I decide to not be completely smart and kneel on my bed to get a pillow from the opposite side. I know exactly what I’m doing as I’m in a skirt and giving him an eyeful of my lacy underwear that leaves little to the imagination, but I wanna know if he’s checking me out or if I’m imagining things.

I can see Austin in the mirror across the room definitely checking out my ass. I knew it… what does this mean? His eyes are dark and he’s biting down hard on his bottom lip. Does that mean when his eyes darken, he’s checking me out? He does that… a lot. I lean up slowly, feeling a bit powerful in the moment. I turn around, hand him the pillow and smile. “Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Presley,” I ask quietly.

His mouth parts to say something and I giggle. “Anastasia, that giggle…” he mumbles. I giggle again and it looks as if he’s scanning my body up and down. I feel my body betray me and my cheeks burn as I blush up a storm.

He looks me in the eyes and then at my mouth and then it looks like he’s looking at the bed behind me. My body must betray me again as I stumble over my feet a bit and fall into the bed. Ana, relax. He’s just drunk. Like you. Go to bed and get out of this situation. Your job is on the line here. I smile up at him and he’s gotten even closer to me. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed and he’s standing directly in front me.

I look straight ahead and it’s impossible to ignore what is right in front of me. Is that… Is he hard? Because of me? He is definitely hard… look at that… I notice quite an erection through his pants. It’s impossible to miss. I know my lips are parted and I look up at him and he’s staring down at me and moves his gaze from his eyes to my mouth.

“Austin, I,” I start to say and he bites down on his bottom lip hard. He sighs and cuts me off by grabbing my chin. “I’m gonna let you get some sleep. Goodnight, Anastasia,” he says quietly and he grazes my cheek with his thumb. He leaves my bedroom with the blanket and pillow I gave him and he shuts my bedroom door. He does all of this without ever turning to look back at me. I lay down in bed and sigh.

What was that… he was definitely aroused by me. Or just the situation? Is he into me? Or just wants to hook up with anyone?

I don’t have the energy to get up so I wiggle out of my denim skirt and decide I’ll just sleep in my underwear and the tank I was wearing. I take off my jewelry and place it on my nightstand. I put some lip oil on, make sure I have an alarm set and then plug my phone in…

I cannot stop thinking about what happened before Austin left my room. I immediately roll on my stomach and glide my hand between my legs. Right before I’m about to start touching myself thinking about Austin hard with my head in between his legs as I sat on the edge of the bed, I remember he’s in my living room.

You cannot touch yourself with him out there, Ana. Get a grip. I groan and eventually fall asleep thinking unspeakable things about Austin.

I wake up to the smell of coffee and what smells like eggs and the turkey bacon. What time is it? Must be before 8 I didn’t hear my alarm go off… As I go to pull myself out of bed, I hear my door opening. Shit, is that…Austin? I panic thinking about my appearance and try to slide back under the covers. “Ana, are you awake,” I hear Austin ask. I giggle under the covers and whisper, “noooo.”

He laughs and I feel his weight sit on the bed. I smell coffee as I stay hidden under the covers and Austin asks, “I brought you some coffee, Anastasia. Could that get you to come out?” I giggle and ask, “Well, is it iced?” He laughs and I feel him grip my thigh. Oh my god. Ana, what is happening? He is just being friendly, you need to relax.

I slowly slide up out of the covers and pull them all the way off. He smiles and I take the coffee from him, which is iced. “My hero,” I say as I drink the coffee he made the way I enjoy. I put the coffee on my nightstand, stretch and see him looking down and his eyes darken and he sinks he teeth into his bottom lip. It sounds like he softly groans, but I could be hearing things.

I go to ask what’s wrong, but then I realize… I slept in my underwear… which are just a sheer, lacy, black thong. And I pulled the covers all the way off… Ana, what are you doing? He’s gonna think you’re trying to get him… I decide to take the high road and prioritize my job over jumping on Austin and removing what little clothing I have on.

“So I’m thinking I should get dressed and see what that amazing smell in the kitchen is,” I giggle and he seems startled. He continues to look at my exposed legs, very slowly makes his eyes’ way up to my stomach, but they stop at my chest. I feel as if he stares at my breasts for awhile and I realize a white tank, no bra and the AC has been on all night may be exposing my nipples to him in a way I had not ever intended. He must sense me looking at him and he darts his eyes up to mine and smiles.

God, I hope he really feels the same way. I feel like I need him. I want to take my tank and panties off and jump on his lap. I hope he can’t tell how aroused I am. I feel like I’m soaking through my panties.

“Oh, I kinda raided your fridge and made us a breakfast spread… I felt bad about crashing here, but wanted to make it up to you. But then I realized I used literally everything in your fridge,” he whispers and laughs. I giggle and say, “Sounds like you’re taking me to buy groceries after we eat.” He laughs and says, “That sounds like a plan.” I smile and blush.

He wants to go grocery shopping with me….? Why does that feel so intimate?

I giggle and say, “Alright, I’m gonna get dressed and meet you in the kitchen, Mr. Presley.” He bites into his bottom lip and stands up from the bed. He reaches out his hand to help me up and then nervously takes it back. “I…uhh…I’ll see you in the kitchen, Anastasia.” And he walks out of my bedroom.

Oh, he definitely remembers me in my panties.