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一期一会 | ichi-go, ichi-e | Part One

一期一会 | ichi-go, ichi-e Masterlist

Summary: The Tokyo premiere of Elvis brings Austin Butler into your life. He proves difficult to treat as just another client, and the effects of your choices will have lasting consequences.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Language, Sexual Tension, Longing Glances, Brief Violence, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption, Mature/Explicit Themes [oral and manual stimulation - f receiving, penetration, unprotected intercourse] - 18+ Only

Disclaimer: For entertainment purposes only. This story is in no way based on fact. The rumoured bar fight between Austin Butler and Ezra Miller has been disproven. This is only an exploration of one possible explanation. The thoughts and experiences of life in Japan are based on my own experience of living there for nearly seven years and may not reflect the thoughts and experiences of others.

Inspiration: This fantastic gif set courtesy of @carnevol

Word Count: 10,208

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“Sources close to Austin tell TMZ the incident never happened, and Austin never even stepped foot in a pub during his time in Japan as the initial claims suggested. Not to mention, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department tells TMZ they have no record of the incident.”

You smile to yourself as you skim through the article on TMZ, body jostling with the movements of the packed rush hour train taking you home to your Asakusa apartment after another long day. It had worked. The best ¥20,000 you’d ever spent. Sliding your phone into your purse you shift your eyes to the scenery flying by the window, letting your mind wander back a few days.

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The morning of June 28, 2022 promised to be hot and clear in Tokyo. The rainy season was not living up to its name this year, with temperatures much hotter much sooner than expected. The weather, however, was the furthest thing from your mind at 5 AM that morning.

After years of studying, of working your way up the rigid corporate ladder, you were finally being deployed on a translation assignment. Sadly, not as one of the primary translators assigned to the celebrities in Tokyo to promote Elvis over the next few days, but even being an alternate was an achievement.

It was not common for people born outside of Japan to be hired by translation companies, but since arriving in Japan five years ago, you had immersed yourself in the culture and the language. It had not been difficult to do so; your teaching assignment from the government had you living in a fishing village on the northern island of Hokkaido. It had been in your best interest to learn to communicate with the locals. Long, dark winter nights had been perfect for studying, and you had measured your progress by taking the Japan Language Proficiency Exams twice annually.

As your teaching contract came to an end, two years ago now, you had just achieved the level of N1, native speaker, and thought you may as well shoot for the stars when you applied to work for a translation company in Tokyo that often provided services to the entertainment industry.

By some miracle, they had actually taken a chance on you. The first year, you had not stepped out of the building on assignment once; in charge of arrangements by phone, making tea for the office, observing your superiors.

When that didn’t make you up and leave, you were slowly used as a supplementary translator at conferences, inching your way closer to TV shows and red carpet events. When you’d received the assignment in early June, your colleague Sachiko had pulled you into the bathroom to squeal with you excitedly. She was nearly fifty and had taken it upon herself to look after you as her own daughter.

You’d run everything by her, what to wear, how to do your hair and makeup, wanting everything to be just right for this opportunity.

You looked yourself over in the mirror, hair pulled back off your face, makeup just enough to make you look fresh-faced, but not too bold. Your black skirt suit was perfectly tailored, and you wore a black blouse with black lace accents on the collar and cap sleeves beneath it. Despite the heat, you were wearing black nylons, a must in Japanese society, and modest black heels. Not too tall as to stand out. Your job today was to disappear into the background, a shadow placed behind the talent to ensure the list of interviews, and later the premiere, were perfectly executed to the studio’s standards.

Despite the low chance of rain in the forecast, you still took your umbrella as you headed out to the train station in the weak light of dawn. Rather than just a probability, you’d found the percentage of precipitation in the forecast was more of an indication of how much of the day it would rain or snow. The day’s schedule began with morning shows and that meant the group needed to be on camera in Fuji television studios by 9:30.

The team for the day – Sachiko, Yuka, Mr. Kimura, and yourself, met at the office before heading to the hotel to join Mr. Luhrmann and Mr. Butler. That was how you were instructed to address them, even if they requested otherwise.

Protocol and hierarchy were deeply entrenched into Japanese society. Everything one did orbited around where one fit into the current social situation. Thus, you entered the suite last, carrying a bag of clipboards, pens, water…anything the primary translators might need in the execution of their duties. Mr. Kimura was in the lead, the supervisor for the day. As he’d introduced himself to them and their people, you had set your items down in the corner and lined up with Sachiko and Yuka. Mr. Kimura introduced Sachiko as Mr. Luhrmann’s translator, Yuka as Mr. Butler’s, and you as a back up. The three of you bowed deeply at the waist, hands pressed to the outside of your thighs, giving the highest level of courtesy to your clients for the day.

As you straightened, you swallowed thickly as your eyes were caught by the startling blue of Mr. Butler’s gaze. You’d never encountered a gaze with such a physical impact in and of itself. You could fairly feel his eyes taking in your face…trailing down your body. You felt several things …confusion – you were not entirely certain what you had done to draw his attention……panic – you were supposed to be invisible, and he was most definitely looking at you…attraction – he was handsome. Why hadn’t you prepared yourself for that?! Everything about him was lanky grace. Long limbs, long fingers, long lingering looks. And then he opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s very nice to meet you all” He murmured in agreement with whatever Mr. Luhrmann had said. Well shit, you job was also to listen even through a cacophony of chatter…this was not a good start. But you did hear the sleepy rasp in his voice…his voice dripping with a southern accent that tasted like an old fashioned – bourbon forward with a sweet cherry finish. You were fucked.

You managed to murmur platitudes about looking forward to working with them, prompted by Sachiko and Yuka as they cheerfully replied first. You turned to gather the bags and stood against the wall as the primary translators stepped forward to work on building rapport with their clients. You fished a clipboard with the schedule on it from the supply bag and busied your eyes with tracing the numbers and letters on the paper. You knew it by heart, but the exercise was grounding, and you were able to slow your racing heart.

The scent of citrus mixed with something utterly masculine seeped into your thoughts and you lifted your head, startled to find him standing right in front of you. The plush of the hotel carpet had muffled his approach. You cleared your throat to try and regain your senses.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there. Is there anything I can help with you, Mr. Butler.”

That mouth, with those luscious pink lips, formed your name. You watched his tongue move with the vowel sounds as though he was tasting it and you shifted a little on your heels.

“Th..that’s right.” It was a herculean task to tear your eyes from his lips, to speak coherent words. Meeting his eyes had been an equally bad idea, though. There were flecks of colour in the rich blue of his irises, and you had just wanted to spend hours cataloguing each of them devotedly.

“I just wanted to say hi, even though we might not work that closely together.” He had outstretched his hand, and you had reached yours out in kind, watching as his warm skin and long fingers engulfed yours completely.

“Please let me know if you need anything. Anything at all. I’m happy to help.” You had felt the blush on your cheeks; you were helpless to stop it. You settled your eyes on his left cheekbone, the beauty marks trailing along his skin there.

You’d spent so long in Japanese society, where eye contact was considered too forward, that looking most people in the eye was rather difficult. Mr. Butler’s eyes were like staring into a welder’s arc…certain to blind you.

“There may be times when Yuka needs a break or has to step away. I will take over then, but hopefully I’ll be able to let you know so you’re not startled.” Focusing on the task at hand had helped you find the ability to articulate yourself again.

“I look forward to it…” He murmured and squeezed your hand again before releasing it gently. His personal assistant appeared then, from somewhere to the right of your eye line, and pulled him into a discussion about the schedule. You had seized the opportunity to escape, sliding along the wall to check in with your team. They had sent you down to ensure the van was ready to depart and you took a deep breath of the scentless air outside the hotel room to refocus.

You found the van waiting out front of the hotel and called Mr. Kimura to confirm it was ready. You waited patiently, making polite conversation with the driver, before you had heard some squealing from a group of girls waiting to the side of the hotel entrance. You looked over to see those long legs carrying him down the stairs with nothing short of a cocky swagger. The distance allowed you the opportunity to take in his outfit: black pants, black boots polished to a shine, a white t-shirt and open pinstripe button-up.

It was not fair how handsome he looked in that assortment of clothes, with his tanned skin and sun-kissed hair. You had tensed as you felt it again…that gaze…you stifled a gasp as he had caught you in the process of drinking him in. You turned to confirm one last thing with the driver, hoping the blush would disappear from your cheeks. They were still warm when the scent of citrus came close again…mixed now with a hint of cedar. His cologne had been evolving as his body heat warmed it. You swallowed tightly and slid on your KN95 mask. It was perfectly matched to your skin tone to encourage eyes to overlook you.

There was only half a seat left on the forward bench when you went to climb in last. Beside Mr. Butler. He’d settled with his legs slightly spread but upon seeing your conundrum, he’d shifted to make room for you. You gritted your teeth and perched on as little of the seat as possible. The driver pulled the rolling door shut and you had jumped a little at the sound.

“So, may I ask how you found yourself in this profession?” He spoke in a low voice, just for you, and you could feel it slide along your skin. The question made your lips slide into a thin line beneath your mask, reminding you of the constant micro-aggressions: ‘Where are you from?’ ‘Why can you speak Japanese so well?’ ‘When are you going home?’ Japan was not an easy place to make a home when you had been born somewhere else.

The driver had pulled out into traffic, swerving suddenly as a cyclist darted into traffic, and your perch on the seat did nothing to prevent you from being thrown into his side. He may be slim but under those clothes he was solid. His hands had gripped your elbows to steady you as you began apologizing profusely, pulling back to return his personal space to him.

“Really, I am so sorry” You looked up into his eyes as you apologized one last time, sitting your butt fully into the seat. Your thigh had pressed against his and he made no move to shift away. You could see his face was earnest, question genuine, so you took a deep breath and launch into the simplified version. Once you were fully seated, his hands had settled back into his lap.

He leaned in, listening intently as you spoke, focusing your gaze on the city passing by the window. It was, again, just shy of making eye contact, but you could see those damn blue eyes out in the periphery of your vision. You got the impression the mask bothered him, but it was still required for staff and crew to wear masks when in close proximity with talent. He had asked the occasional question as you explained all the forces that had brought you here, mostly your own efforts, but mostly he just listened with such an intensity your heart fluttered irregularly.

As you neared the end of your answer, you had noticed you were only five minutes from the first television station and could hear Sachiko talking to Mr. Luhrmann about what to expect.

“Did you have any questions about your first interview, Mr. Butler?”

He had started a little and shook his head. “Austin, please.”

“I apologize but I am not able to do that, Mr. Butler.”

He sighed and rubbed his fingers along his chin thoughtfully. “What is ‘good morning’ again?”

“Ohayou gozaimasu. You can slow it down and remember it using English words though…Ohio goes-I-muss.”

He grinned and practiced it a few times. “So arigatou goes-I-muss is thank you then?”

You nodded encouragingly. “Exactly. But Yuka will be right there with you.”

“You’ll be there too, right?” He asked quickly and something in his voice had made you glance at his eyes quickly. He somehow seemed a little…nervous?

“Absolutely, I’ll be behind the camera” You nodded and turned as the driver had parked and was now opening the door. You slid out quickly and stood off to the side to bring up the rear again. The glass building was huge and imposing as the group headed in, Mr. Butler chatting with his assistant and Mr. Luhrmann alternatingly.

The two men were run through make-up and mic’d up backstage while you helped Yuka and Sachiko prepare for the live, simultaneous translation. It was possibly the most difficult task that could be requested of a translator. The hosts would speak to the guests in Japanese with the translators immediately translating into the ear of the guest from behind. The guests would then answer in English and the translator would translate it into Japanese for the host and the camera. To an outsider it looked like utter chaos. To a translator it was a very careful juggling act, and the clipboards for notetaking were essential tools to ensure it all went smoothly.

Once everyone was in place, you had stood behind camera to watch the live segment. You could not help but feel a growing affection for Mr. Butler. He kept his arms crossed, obviously feeling out of his element, but was still so warm and friendly in his responses. He would have been a dream to translate for, you thought. He modulated his answers to make them easier to relay, and always turned toward Yuka as she provided English translation to him. A gentleman who refused to ignore what everyone was begging him to not see.

He had found you pretty early on in the segment and glanced when he delivered his adorably accented ‘good morning.’ You had grinned brightly, eyes crinkling with your encouragement, and he had found them again as the clips of Elvis had played. You had to admit you were quite excited that you would get a chance to watch the film that evening. There was something in the way that man moved that made it difficult to breathe…

After the segment came to an end your group had moved off the set to allow the rest of the morning show to play out. You stepped away to the windows overlooking Tokyo Bay to slide your mask off one ear, taking a deep sip of water from your bottle. You slid the mask back on and turned to see if they had been freed from backstage. He was looking at you again with that gaze, pretending to listen to something his assistant was saying. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you were grateful as Mr. Kimura came over to give you more marching orders and keep you on task.

The rest of the morning show segments were taped to be aired a later date. They were at most five minutes long, but with driving time, it was nearing noon by the time you returned to the hotel. Mr. Butler had saved you the seat beside him every time, asking questions about your favourite restaurant in Tokyo, or how to say good afternoon. He also asked if any temples or shrines would be open after the premiere was finished and after he humored Baz with some karaoke.

“Kaminari-mon and Sensoji temple stay lit and accessible all night long, so you could definitely go see those no matter what time you’re finished for the day.” You had replied. Stepping out back at the hotel, you confirmed on your schedule that lunch was next, then Mr. Luhrmann and Mr. Butler had a break before a special segment would be recorded at the hotel.

They would be meeting Yukawa Reiko, a Japanese music journalist who had met Elvis three times before his untimely death. She was also known for her close relationship with Yoko Ono and John Lennon. Your group headed up to the suite where a set of high-end bento lunch boxes were waiting along with a variety of bottled drinks. You hung back against the wall as Mr. Kimura gave them another run down of the schedule and invited them to eat.

The whole team had then waited in silence for the clients to decide if they would take the food back to their rooms or if they would invite you dine with them. Assumptions were never made, interaction was never forced, but Japanese hospitality dictated that you all wait until the clients’ wishes were made clear.

“Please, eat with us” Baz had smiled brightly, and you couldn’t help the thrill in your stomach. More time to stare at him. Maybe he would ask you more questions, you had thought. You grabbed a bento and a bottle of sanpin-cha – a blend of jasmine and oolong teas from Okinawa. Mr. Butler was right beside you, looking over the selections. You could empathize; the stylized labels provided little insight to a non-native speaker. You had walked him through the choices, describing the tastes of each, before he settled on a barley tea. He pulled out a chair for you at the long table and gestured with a graceful motion of his hand, inviting you to sit.

“Thank you very much” You sat with him warmly, pulling a pair of reusable chopsticks out of your bag and had removed your mask to start eating carefully. You looked to him and decided you should at least ask him one question in return…but nothing cliché…not about his last twenty-four hours in Japan…not about making the movie…

“So how did you end up in your profession?” You turned his own question back onto him. You flushed with a hint of pride at his soft laugh before he launched into the simplified version of his career for you.

People had begun to excuse themselves from the table, Mr. Luhrmann back to his room, your team to rest for a while in the bedrooms of the suite, but the two of you had stayed there just talking. Somehow, you’d landed on the topic of travel, and you had regaled him with your current project of visiting each of Japan’s forty-seven prefectures.

“The country is only the size of California, but each region is so remarkably distinct, it’s just so fascinating to explore them all.” You were chancing more frequent glances at his eyes the longer you talked. They were somehow irresistible, drawing you in like refreshing pools of water on this very hot day.

“I really wish I was here longer; my first time and its all of forty-eight hours…” He had sighed wistfully, but a polite cough from his assistant, recently returned from her room, brought you both back to reality.

“I’m sorry Austin but we need to get you ready for the meeting with Ms. Yukawa.”

He had apologized to her and then again to you before excusing himself. Finding yourself alone in the suite, you had slid out of your suit jacket, slipped out of your heels, and stood in front of the air conditioner to try and cool down. You knew that the heat in your cheeks had little to do with the temperature outside and much, much more to do with the intensity of Mr. Butler; it was almost entirely due to your growing desire for the man. You exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the lingering scent of sandalwood he had left behind, the low note in the cologne he was wearing.

It had flooded your senses and spoken to the ancient part of your brain that was quite insistent he would make an excellent mate; the sooner you swapped gametes, the better. You slammed the heel of your palm into your forehead with a groan, trying to reset your brain like a faulty hard drive. You were not successful.

You had managed to get some rest and recollect yourself, heading down to one of the meeting rooms where three chairs had been set up with a plexiglass barrier between them for Mr. Luhrmann, Mr. Butler, and Ms. Yukawa to engage in a filmed conversation. It would be easier translation this time as the footage would be edited to allow for smooth playback for the Japanese audience. Ms. Yukawa had not been provided a translator and asked if someone might be able to assist her as her hearing wasn’t what it used to be. It was hard for her to hear Sachiko and Yuka with masks on and plexiglass between them.

Mr. Kimura had nodded at you then and your veins flooded with a thrill of adrenaline. You stepped forward and bowed deeply to her, introducing yourself to her warmly. You had felt those eyes on you again, watching intently, and surely listening, as you spoke Japanese. You took your place behind her, off camera, clipboard in had to note important words to hit in your translation. You narrowed your focus to just the words, trying to push out that accent that felt like it was licking at the shell of your ear every time Mr. Butler spoke. You could see the joy on his face, as well as Mr. Luhrmann’s, as you translated Ms. Yukawa’s statement that she was grateful to tears for such a beautiful film about Elvis’s life.

There was passion in him, you realized. Passion for the film, passion for the man he had been chosen to portray…and unless you were mistaken, a desire to like every part of his life with that same passion. The allotted time for recording the meeting flew by rapidly and as it ended, it took you a moment to re-engage the rest of your brain, to flesh out into a full human and not the pared down translation machine. You thanked Ms. Yukawa profusely for her time and returned to your place at the back of the room as Mr. Kimura instructed your team to go rest for the next two hours while the clients changed for the premiere.

You did not miss the slide of Mr. Butlers eyes along your cheek as he was ushered up to his room to get ready. Your eyes had flicked to his, and he’d nodded to you before following his assistant out the door. You had followed your colleagues back up to the working suite, hanging up your suit jacket before laying on one of the futon on the floor to try and sleep. You’d been up since five and the main event of the day was still yet to come. You were restless at first, mind filled with his voice, his glances, his cologne…but fatigue, thankfully, won out and you managed an hour of sleep before forcing yourself up to brush your teeth and fix your hair and makeup.

You could only imagine how tired the two men must be, all of this heaped onto the jetlag…

It was a fleet of sleek black cars waiting in front of the hotel entrance for your group this time, and you waited at the door of the last car in the line. Lowest in the hierarchy meant you needed to be there first, waiting. The combination of squealing and the familiar caress of his gaze turned your head to look up at the steps. Your fingers nearly dropped the supply bag as he stepped out of the hotel doors in all white, shirt unbuttoned down to his sternum, a gold chain and pendant on the tanned, exposed skin of his chest.

You had briefly wished your heart would arrest at that point…the rhythm was so chaotic it would not have been too much to ask. You swallowed quickly as there was a lot of saliva in your mouth all of a sudden. You had turned away and snapped your mask onto your face like armour, holding the car door open for Mr. Kimura to slide in. Mr. Butler’s eyes met yours and he had offered you a nod with just the hint of a smirk before sliding into the front car with Mr. Luhrmann.

You quickly jumped into your vehicle and the trio of automobiles headed out through traffic to the event. It was quite frankly unlike anything you’d ever experienced; a glittering pink carpet packed with media and fans. Somehow through it all Mr. Butler seemed utterly calm and cool, while Mr. Luhrmann stole the show with over-the-top excitement. You were all watching the Jailhouse Rock dance performance by a popular Japanese dance group when Yuka tugged at your sleeve sharply.

“I have a headache and sore throat; protocol says I have to leave. Good luck.” She had bowed deeply to you before slipping off through the crowd. You looked after her in concern before Mr. Kimura shifted to stand beside you.

“Are you ready?” He asked and you nodded quickly, grateful you’d had a bit of a warmup earlier in the day with Ms. Yukawa. You stepped over behind Mr. Butler and took a breath to interrupt his focus on the dance troupe. Your senses were flooded with that cologne again, eyes inadvertently fluttering shut. The whisper of your name, in that voice, against your ear made then snap open again. He was so very close to you…your heart rabbited in your chest, but you clenched your fists, digging your nails into your palms to ground your focus.

“Yuka has had to leave, I will be assisting you through the Q&A, Mr. Butler.” You had leaned up to murmur in his ear.

His smile was small, just visible to you, as he nodded once before looking back to the performance. Every concession and consideration he had provided Yuka was offered to you two-fold. His eyes sought yours as you translated questions, he broke his answers into neat chunks or simply kept them brief to allow you to accurately convey his words to the audience. By the time you were ushered into the theatre to watch the film, you wondered if he might not just sleep through it. It was dark enough and surely he had been tired enough.

You, however, were on the edge of your seat from the first. The haunting line from Suspicious Minds took a hold of you and the film did not let you go for all two hours and thirty-nine minutes of it. It was not so absorbing, however, that you didn’t feel his presence in the seat to your left like the glow of superheated embers. Every nerve in your body was happily announcing to you that he was right there, that man on the screen who was moving his hips like that, making you cross and re-cross your legs in an attempt to keep your arousal to yourself.

His gaze had found your thighs as your skirt inched higher along your nylons with all your fidgeting. You had sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, taking slow breaths through your nose. Do not look at him, you had thought. Do not acknowledge or encourage…your fingers gripped the hem of your skirt, not so subtly, and tried to pull it down a little.

Lust was not the only feeling the film had aroused in you, however. By the time he was delivering the speech about the bird without legs, you were dabbing at your eyes with the cuff of your suit jacket, trying to wick away tears before they could fall down your cheeks.

As the credits began to roll, the theatre erupted into applause, cheers, and a standing ovation. You were quick to join in, risking a glance at him. He was blushing now, and you felt somewhat vindicated to see him embarrassed for once today. But how humble it was of him, to be able to embody such an ego on film so very well and yet remain so down-to-earth. You had all piled into the cars then, heading back to the hotel suite. You had been weighed down by the sudden realization that this magical day really was at an end. You and Sachiko were in the middle of a sweep of the suite when you heard Mr. Butler calling your name. You looked at Sachiko and she dropped all her professionalism with a broad grin.

“Ichi-go, ichi-e” She stated simply, and you had flushed scarlet. She’d proceeded to shoo you out into the main room, and you smoothed your suit jacket in a self-soothing motion.

“Mr. Butler?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Look, Baz is determined about the whole karaoke thing, and we have no idea where to go or how to do it…Please?”

You swallowed roughly, Sachiko’s words ringing in your ears. Live life now. Live it to the fullest as though this moment would never come again.

“Of course, I can help you two find a place.” You grabbed your purse and nodded.

“On one condition…” He had grinned slyly.

You had looked to him startled; not certain he was in any position to put stipulations on a favour he’d ask of you.

“You have got to stop calling me Mr. Butler.” He laughed cheekily and you couldn’t help your bark of relieved laughter.

“Fine…Austin. Are you two ready to go now?”

He had nodded enthusiastically, and you had bowed deeply to Sachiko, thanking her for all her hard work that day, before following him out. Honestly, karaoke bars were not that hard to find once one knew what they were looking for, but you reminded yourself you too had once been a lost foreigner. You found a reputable chain location close to the hotel, one you even had a points card for, and booked them a room for an hour. Their assistants were there, along with a few other people you didn’t recognize. You weren’t certain if you were meant to join them until long, warm fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled you into the room.

Even with the air conditioning it was warm, so you slid out of your suit jacket…The skin of your arms was not given the opportunity to cool down, however, as the fabric of your jacket was quickly replaced with the heat of his gaze taking in the new territory. You made sure everything was set up in English for them, passing the mic to Baz who was bouncing with excitement. You tried to find the back corner of the room, but your wrist was in his grasp again and you were pulled into the space beside him, pressed quite close.

It behooved any resident of Japan to learn a karaoke specialty song, inevitably you would be called upon to perform for karaoke with friends or colleagues and it was better to be prepared. You had been sly in your choice, learning a song that usually came with guide vocals at most establishments. Many people usually knew it from graduation ceremonies, but that would not be the case with this group. So, when the tablet was thrust into your hands by an enthusiastic Austin to input your song, you had easily found Angela Aki’s 手紙～拝啓十五の君へ～, (Letter: Greetings to My 15-Year-Old Self). That was not to say you had not been petrified; a fear which only deepened when he performed Polk Salad Annie for you all.

To hear his voice in the movie theatre had been one thing. To hear it coming from the man next to you, to feel the vibrations of his voice where his side pressed against yours, was entirely another. He had handed you the microphone, still warm from his grasp, as the opening strains of the song came up and you tried to push out all the distractions. You knew this song; you would be fine…and you sang. It was not going to win you a Grammy, but you made it through without missing notes or words, the hallmark of a successful karaoke performance. You even had the room clapping along to the beat during the bridge.

You were still grateful when the song ended, passing the microphone to his assistant as though it was scalding your hand. As she took over singing a Britney Spears song, you felt him lean in close.

“Will you tell me what it means after this?” He had intoned into your ear.

You swallowed visibly, had seen his eyes flick to your throat to watch the motion closely, and nodded firmly. More songs were sung, and suddenly the five-minute warning flashed across the screen. You double-checked if they wanted to extend the time, but everyone was suddenly looking quite tired…even Austin. You had settled the bill for the drinks, snacks, and booth rental with Baz; you did the talking, he did the paying. The group meandered back to the hotel, and you stopped in the lobby as people began filtering up to the elevators, wishing each other good night. Austin leaned in close to your ear, looking as though he was saying farewell.

“Give me five minutes? I want to take you somewhere.” Were the words that actually came out of his mouth.

You had nodded, rendered mute, and sat in one of the lobby chairs, checking your texts idly. True to form, he was back within the promised time frame, wearing the black short-sleeved button up and black pants from that afternoon’s meeting with Ms. Yukawa. He had a mask over his face, but truly it did little to hide how overwhelmingly attractive he was. You had moved to your feet as you saw him step out of the elevator and he took your hand, leading you to the line of cabs.

He helped you in and looked to the driver. “Kaminari-mon onegai.”

You had been running through an endless list of guesses as to where he wanted to take you, but this was the best of all. You squeezed his hand gently and added your more formal ‘onegaishimasu’ to the driver who bowed and pulled out onto the much quieter streets.

“So…the song…It obviously meant something to you…”

Your cheeks reddened but you nodded.

“It is a letter to the performer’s 15 year old self, talking to them about all they have been through…saying things like believe in your own voice, don’t give up…even as an adult there are nights when my heart is broken and I can’t sleep, but I am still alive…I was a pretty awkward kid, I would have loved to get a letter like that from myself at that age. Because things are better now. I can pull up the lyrics if you’d like?” You looked to him in the intermittent glow of streetlights and signs, but he shook his head.

“I’ll look it up another time, I’d rather look at you right now.”

Your heart gave one terrific thud, and you were certain that might have been the last blow it could take, but somehow the rhythm kickstarted again and you exhaled shakily. The driver pulled up to the massive lantern hanging beneath a bright red gate and turned to ask you for fare. You pulled out your wallet, filled with cash as Japan was still very much a cash-based society and paid, despite Austin’s protests, before sliding out.

The temple complex was much quieter now than it was during the daytime, but it was well-lit and striking. His hand took yours again as his other busied itself snapping photos on his phone. You walked slowly, letting him set the pace, telling him a little about the history of the place. The normally bustling Nakamise shopping street was shuttered for the evening, but you were thrilled as Austin gravitated to the intricate street art painted onto the metal shutters. Your path up to the temple was winding and inefficient, but he was so clearly enjoying himself and you were feeling very privileged to see it.

You had showed him how to cleanse himself with incense before stepping onto the sacred grounds and led him over to say a prayer on the steps of the temple. You had fished a few five yen coins out of your wallet, holding one out to him.

“Go-en, it’s a homonym for destiny. The best coin to pray with. This temple is dedicated to the bodhisattva Kannon. She embodies compassion.” You dropped your coin in the wooden coin box before bowing deeply and pressing your hands together. You waited quietly as you heard the noise of his coin ricocheting against the sides of wooden box after he tossed it in, finishing your prayer with a bow. As soon as you had looked up, his hand had seized yours again.

“What else can we do at this time of night?” He was so intently focused on making the most of every moment in this country, your heart ached a little.

“I’ll take you to my favourite izakaya…it’s like a pub. I actually live quite close to here.”

He had nodded eagerly and, unfortunately, neither of you had been blessed with the slightest inkling of what would happen there.

It was busier than you had anticipated, with a large number of ex-pats seated at tables. The owner had heard the bell above the door jingle as you entered, calling out his blanket welcome of ‘Irasshaimase!’ before looking up. He grinned broadly and called out your name in a more personal greeting.

“Konbanwa Nakamura-san! Futari, onegaishimasu.” You held up two fingers, asking for two seats.

“Kauntaa de ii no kai?” He gestured to the only two open seats at the counter, next to the yakitori grill. You looked up to Austin.

“Are you ok with the counter?” He had nodded enthusiastically and the two of you had wound your way over to take the seats. You hung your suit jacket and purse on the hook under the counter, asking the owner for one English menu along with a Japanese one for you.

You worked through the options with him, choosing a few snacks and drinks. You placed the order with the owner, feeling Austin’s gaze on your mouth and throat as you spoke. The blush had crept up from below your blouse, but you remained focused on what you were trying to communicate. You looked to him slowly as you finished, and he shook his head in awe.

“I don’t think I will ever get tired of hearing you speak Japanese…You really love it, don’t you.”

You laughed shyly but nodded with a shrug.

“I do…it’s a language with a lot of meaning and history and levels of formality and…” You nodded again and watched the fingers of his left hand trace along the characters of the Japanese menu in front of you.

“It looks impossible to read…There’s no reference to anything I know here.”

“You start with the basics, each segment of the more complicated kanji has a meaning, so it’s all about how they are combined and where certain characters are placed.”

He raised an eyebrow dubiously and you laughed, pulling out a notebook and pen from your purse.

“Let me show you. So, for example, there are two words for love: ai and koi. But the difference between them is illustrated by where the character for heart is positioned. This is kokoro – heart.”

You carefully drew the kanji 心.

“It’s pretty straight forward, four chambers just like a real heart. A much more accurate representation than a Western heart symbol. Now this, is ai, a deep abiding love. Long lasting, and can describe either romantic or platonic love.”

You drew the kanji 愛.

“The heart is here, in the middle…in your chest…” You were so wrapped up in your explanation that you didn’t even process that you were pressing your hand against the centre of his chest. He was watching raptly, licking his lips.

“Whereas koi is a shallow love, based on attraction, usually describing flings or the early stages of a relationship. It’s also part of the word for lover, only used for romantic situations.”

You drew the kanji 恋.

“This time the heart is at the bottom of the kanji, between the…” Your words stumbled a little, and you gestured vaguely towards his lap. “…legs.” It was your turn to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in a visible swallow.

The clunk of your drinks being set on the bar pulled your attention away from his throat. You moved to put away the notebook, but he plucked it from your fingers, carefully extracting the page you’d given him the kanji lesson on. You watched as he folded it with care into four before sliding it into his breast pocket. You took a deep, bracing sip of your drink as the snacks began to arrive and you two set about sampling the various items.

He had asked more questions about the different kanji on the menu, and you had happily explained them, using the same technique your first Japanese teacher had used. You had used the stroke count to differentiate the kanji for one, two, and three; gotten him to see the shape of a cow’s horns in the kanji for gyu 牛 (beef). Neither of you had noticed the couple beside you leave, nor the increase of volume as a new boisterous group arrived. You did, however, notice him tense as someone hollered his name through the crowd.

You turned your head to follow his gaze, eyes widening a little as Ezra Miller had crowded into your local izakaiya with a pack of friends. The conversation had seemed friendly at first, if a little tense. The two celebrities had exchanged pleasantries and explanations of what had brought each of them to Tokyo.

“I saw the film when I was in Hawaii…Decent job, Butler.” Ezra had said in a tone that set your teeth on edge. It was very clearly a back-handed compliment. You saw the muscles of Austin’s jaw bunch as they clenched in an effort to stay civil. “Well, if you’re done with your Japanese tutor here, why don’t you two get out of our way so we can sit down” They had said, snide tone no longer gilded with a sheen of feigned civility.

“Don’t talk about her that way.” Austin had said tersely, sitting taller on the bar stool. “We were here first and have no intention of leaving until we’re good and ready.”

“Defending a nobody in a department store suit, Butler? What happened to the revolving door of actresses and models? Why are you wasting your time on a dowdy thing like…” You never did get a chance to hear the rest of Ezra Miller’s insults.

Austin had slid to his feet, drawn himself to his full intimidating height, and employed the toned muscles of his right arm to slam his right fist into Ezra’s jaw. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as their face had snapped to the side under the force, spit flying from their venomous lips as they stumbled back into their group of friends. As they tried to scramble back to their feet, to lunge at Austin, things were suddenly sped up to twice the normal speed. Ezra’s friends were holding them back, Austin standing still and intimidating, shielding you from the problematic star. You had moved quickly then, spurred on by the reactions of the staff and patrons of the izakaiya. You pulled all the bills out of your wallet, totalling around ¥20,000, and put them on the bar. It was roughly the equivalent of $200 USD, much more than your bill.

You called out to the owner, who was taking in the scene in stunned silence. You assured him you would be leaving promptly, asked him not to call the police. He had eyed you and the stack of bills for a brief moment before nodding sharply. He collected the bills as you grabbed your suit jacket and purse. He sent one of the yakitori cooks to drag the Miller group out the front door before motioning you to follow him out the back. You had slid your arm through Austin’s, dragging him after you through the kitchen and out into the alley.

“Come on, please…�� Your heart was racing, terrified a career ending scandal might taint all his hard work promoting the film that day. The Japanese were not as forgiving as the rest of the world when it came to scandal. You needed to get him out of public and the fastest way to do that would be to take him into your one room apartment. It was a short walk to the next block where you lived, walking as fast as your heels would allow. Austin had stridden alongside you smoothly with those ridiculously long legs, hand clasping yours. You unlocked the gate before leading him up the stairs in your building, hands a bit shaky from the adrenaline, but you’d managed to unlock your front door and pull him into the entryway.

You had spun and slid your heels off as you stepped up onto the hardwood floor, a very practiced movement. He unzipped the sides of his boots and kicked them off to sit beside yours, following you into the hallway of an apartment you called home. It took precisely ten seconds to run from one end to the other. You had timed it once, out of curiosity. You reached into the fridge and pulled out a pack of frozen peas, reaching for his right hand as he got close enough, looking his knuckles over.

You gently pressed the improvised cold pack to his skin, making him hiss a little. Your heart rate had yet to recover from the rush out of the restaurant and down the darkened streets, the sprint up the stairs, the fact that he had defended you…You gasped a little as you felt the skin between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand slot itself below your chin. His thumb and fingers had gently pressed into skin on either side of your jaw as he guided your head up.

“Why won’t you ever look me in the eye?” He whispered softly, eyes searching your face.

Aside from your cultural adaption to Japanese ways, you had also been so afraid of what he might see there – the naked, unabashed desire you had felt for him since first laying eyes on him that morning. You took a fortifying breath and snapped your eyes to his now, no longer interested in trying to hide it. The flames of the fire blazing in your lower abdomen flickered in your eyes as you let yourself fall into his rapidly shrinking blue irises. His pupils had been rapidly expanding as he was finally able to see you. You heard the sharp intake of breath through his nose before his lips crashed into yours, body surging forward to push you back into the refrigerator as he pressed into you greedily.

You shuddered as you felt the outline of his hard cock pressing against your stomach, free hand reaching up to twist your fingers into those cursed curls that had been teasing you all day. The sound of the bag of frozen peas hitting the floor hardly registered in your brain as he pushed them out of your other hand to employ both his hands in pulling your blouse of out of your skirt. His fingers quickly snuck up and underneath the silk to stroke along the skin of your sides. Your breath shuddered into his mouth at the feel of his touch, the callouses on his fingers, the warmth of his palms.

His tongue took advantage of your open mouth to finally get a chance to taste you. The feel of the slick muscle of his tongue sliding along your own made your toes curl into the hardwood floor. Eventually oxygen became an unavoidable necessity, and you pulled back from his lips to gasp for air, breath thick with desire. You could feel him panting against the skin of your throat as took deep inhales of your scent.

“Fuck you smell so good; it’s been all I could think about all day.” His generous lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, making you shudder. He took the hint, showering your sensitive skin with kisses as his clever fingers found the zipper on your skirt. You chuckled wryly, breathlessly.

“You have no fucking idea what your cologne has been doing to me, do you?” You carefully stepped out of the fabric as it fell to the floor, hands hooking into the belt loops of his pants, pulling him after you as you moved deeper into the apartment to where your bed was.

“Oh, I think I do. When I caught you with your eyes closed on that pink carpet…I just about ripped that mask off to kiss you senseless…” He replied, standing still as you worked his pants and shirt off. Once they lay on a pile on the floor, he pulled you tightly against him, seizing your lips with his, kissing you until you felt unsteady on your feet, as promised. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your nylons and slid them down to your knees before he gripped your hips, lifting you onto the bed. He knelt at your feet, looking down at you in your bra and panties hungrily. His lips fell victim to the ravages of his teeth as he pulled the nylons up and off each leg in turn.

You watched, chest tight with anticipation as he tossed them aside, lips working their way down from your right ankle, along the inside of your calf, to your knee and up your inner thigh. You trembled as he got closer to the centre of your need, licking your lips eagerly.

“Did they survive?” His eyes looked up to yours as he came face to face with your panties. “The way you kept crossing your legs…I was rather hoping for them to be utterly ruined.”

You flushed and threw your head back with a sudden laugh. He grinned as he pressed his forearm into the mattress beside your head, stretching his body over yours as the fingers of his other hand slid past the waistband of your panties, seeking your folds. He hummed, pleased as he found your slick.

“So not entirely unscathed then…” He drank in your face as your eyelids fluttered, threatening to close at the sensation of his languid, exploratory strokes. Your thighs pressed together around his wrist needily, having fought to be well-behaved for so long.

“Please…” You breathed in desperation and his lips found yours, kissing you soothingly as fingers traced around your bundle of nerves before applying gentle but fleeting pressure. You squirmed beneath him, gripping his shoulders tightly, hips pressing up to his hand eagerly.

His lips pulled back from yours with a parting nip to the flesh of the lower one. He sat back onto his heels and tugged at the waistband of your underwear, getting you to lift your hips so he could divest you of them. He then gripped your elbows, pulling you up to a sitting position before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. His fingers teasingly dragged the straps down your arms, raising goosebumps in their wake before that too was removed and tossed aside. Latching onto your right nipple, he had settled his hips against yours, leaning you back onto the mattress. His skin was frustratingly still clad in the fabric of his boxer-briefs but, as he ground against your core, you stopped your internal complaining and moaned eagerly.

The fingers of his free hand cupped the mound of your left breast as he settled back over you on his right forearm. He continued to pleasure your breasts as his hips rocked against yours insistently, the once hint of a shape now a very definitely hard, generously sized cock pressed tightly against you. As you grew wet enough to soak into the fabric of his underwear, he pulled back out of your reach, sliding down between your thighs to taste you eagerly.

Your hips had a bad habit of bucking towards his mouth needily, and he held them down with a firm grip as his tongue parted your folds to lap at your clit hungrily. He watched your face hungrily as your fingers sank into his curls again, crying out his name reverently. Throwing his left arm across your hips, pinning you under his elbow and hand, he freed his right hand to seek out your entrance. The pad of his index finger slowly dipped in and out of you before pressing deeper into you, making you throw your head back with a whimper.

Thrusting the digit in and out of you, working you open, he gradually added a second and third finger, curling them up to press against the area that made you toss your head to the side and swear like a sailor.

“Ohhh Jesus fucking Christ, Austin!” You wailed and he was relentless; manipulating the sensitive spot inside you with those delicious, dextrous fingers until his arm could no longer hold your hips down. You bucked hard, thighs clamping tightly around his head as his tongue had not once let up on your clit. Your orgasm had rocked through you, leaving you a trembling, gasping mess.

You watched through hooded eyes as he cleaned you up with his tongue before licking his fingers clean, savouring every last drop of your nectar. He had raised up on his knees again, sliding his boxer-briefs down to allow his insistent cock to spring free, slapping against the taught skin of his abdomen. The man was blessed, and you were about to be as well.

Tossing the fabric aside, he had slid up against you, cock pressing against your still-fluttering core as he settled his hips between your legs again. You arched your back up to kiss him appreciatively, not caring that his mouth tasted of your climax. His tongue twined with yours, moans sliding from his throat and down yours are he slid his cock between your folds, the crown snagging on your clit, making you whimper in reply. Before you could pull your lips back from his to beg, his cock began to sink into you, stretching you, filling you.

“Aus..Aus…tin…” You had stuttered between your whimpers, chest heaving.

“I know, you’re so fucking tight, holy fuck…” His head dropped to press against your collarbone, and you felt him shudder as he attempted to maintain control over his body’s urgent wish to slam into you. At last, he had settled into you fully, pelvis slotted snugly against yours. You shuddered and flexed your walls unintentionally, making him moan raggedly against your skin.

Unable to resist any longer, he pulled his hips back before pushing into your heat again, making you both moan. He set an easy pace to start, your exhales of pleasure meeting in the air between your mouths, curling around each other in the low light of your apartment. The pendant on the end of the gold chain knocked against your chin teasingly and you gripped it in your teeth teasingly.

The delicious feel of his cock sliding against your walls, nudging your cervix with each thrust, made your eyes roll back in your head. His pace increased as his left hand slid to cradle your jaw again.

“Lemme see your eyes” He ground out huskily and you fought to open them, to lock them onto his. Your walls clenched around him at the vision he presented above you, pink lips parted, eyebrows crinkled in pleasure, jaw working in concentration.

“I’m gonna…”

“Oh fuck, please…” His hips slapped into yours faster, your thighs spreading wider, heels digging into the bed as you just…needed…

“AHN!” you arched hard against him as his fingers found your clit again. You forced your eyes wider rather than clenching them shut as your release ripped through your body. Your walls clamped down around him tightly, pulling him under with you as he swore a litany of curses into your neck, flooding you with his hot cum. Shuddering breaths echoed in the quiet room as you both fought to calm racing hearts, to satiate the burning in your lungs. He slid from you carefully, making you whimper at the loss, before rolling to lay at your side. He gripped your right hip with his left hand and rolled you into his chest, pressing his plush lips to your forehead.

You lay your cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowing to a normal rhythm beneath your ear pressed to his skin.

“Thank you…for defending me…” You broke the silence and he scoffed sleepily.

“Thank you for saving my ass after I hit him…” He replied. You could tell sleep was working against him, the marathon of a day catching up with him.

“What time do you need to be at the airport?” You left off the word tomorrow as it was definitely today now. He was leaving today.

“Leaving the hotel at 9…” He murmured softly and you kissed his chest, just above where the pendant lay. You waited patiently, fighting off your own sleep, letting him drift off before you slid from his embrace to set an alarm and assemble his clothes on the chair beside the bed, hoping to make the wake up a little easier on him. You cleaned up in the washroom, coming back to stand on the threshold of the bedroom, watching him sleep soundly, bathed in the light from the street. God he was perfection. Your heart panged a little with the knowledge that this was surely the end of…whatever the last twenty hours had been.

“Ichi-go, ichi-e” You had whispered to yourself and blinked as the idea came to you. You fished out your wallet and found a clean, shiny five yen coin. You found some origami paper on your coffee table and carefully folded a pouch to slide the coin into. You added a slip of paper, writing out the expression on one side – he would be able to use his phone to translate it if he wanted. You added your email on the reverse. You slipped it into the breast pocket of his shirt, along with the folded note paper from the restaurant, before sliding into bed with him to enjoy a few hours of sleep.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

You slide your shoes off in the entryway and step into your apartment proper, sighing a little as the scent of his cologne is almost gone. You flick on the lights and set down your things, changing into comfy clothes before pulling out your phone again. You mindlessly scroll through Twitter as you lay on the bed, his name catching your eye. You click on the post, not your usual habit, but curious after your experience with him. The photo of him posing with some fans on the streets of Los Angeles makes you smile…such a sweetheart.

The chain around his neck, or rather the pendant, catches your eye and you zoom in, gasping to see he’s slid the chain through the centre of the five yen coin, wearing it proudly. You swallow back something akin to a squeal. So, it had meant more to him than just a chance meeting…

Your phone buzzes with an email notification and you roll onto your stomach on the bed, cheeks aching from your grin as he’s sent you a screenshot of the translation of the phrase you had written for him. What had previously felt like an ending, in the early dawn of June 29, is transforming into a beginning right before your eyes.

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Read Part Two

一期一会 | ichi-go, ichi-e Masterlist

#austin butler x reader #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #austin butler x you #elvis2022 #austin butler elvis #elvis movie #elvis 2022 #austin butler smut #ichigo ichie fic #blurredcolour

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burninlovebutler · 1 year

Text

23 - Christmas Pt. 2 - Comeback Special** // Forever Winter Series

pairing: austin x fem!oc

warnings: ANGST, fed up!austin lol, mentions of addiction, fingering, oral (both), swallowing, cheating?, impending doom of getting caught, sad lol beginning of austin’s villain arc, 18+, mdni

summary: After her boyfriend leaves, Austin finds Elsie in something he can’t get his hands off of. Fueled by his Xanax comedown, the fight with Nox, and his impatience, he decides he’s had enough and loses sight of the ‘no touching’ rule.

prev chapter -> 22 - Christmas Special (ft. The Grinch)

see masterlist/summary for chapter log

gif cred: @carnevol ❤️

'There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me But if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me

We could call it even You could call me babe for the weekend'

-AUSTIN-

Nox finally let me go once I agreed to his fucked-up plan. I smoothed out my now wrinkled shirt in a grumble, “Well I guess I’d better get going.”

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea.” His voice still threatening before swinging the fridge door open, bending down searching for something. He pulled out a dark glass bottle, no doubt some pretentious craft beer. “Tell Elsie headed to the corner store.” Tugging the cap off with his teeth.

I eyed him as he did so, disgusted.

I knew it.

“I thought you stopped drinking?” Propping an eyebrow up, sounding more like an accusation than a question.

“And I thought you stopped popping pills?” He countered in a tone sharp enough to slice me.

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Damn, Elsie really did have a type after all. I thought I was different this whole time. I thought if anything I was better than the rest of men she’d had in her life. But I was wrong, I was just like them. And if I was just like them – then I guess I should stop fighting it. If I was the same as the other vile men who’d ever touched her, then I suppose I should act like it. Maybe if I was more like them, she’d want me the way I want her.

And what way was that exactly?

I glanced over to the cracked bedroom making sure she wasn’t about to walk out or listening.

“Don’t you fucking dare tell her where I’m going. Tell her I just went to pick up a… pie or something. Or the deal is off.” He glared at me and poked his index into my sternum, “Got it?”

“Yeah.” I muttered holding my arms up in defeat.

His finger pressed into me again, “And don’t fucking be here when I get back.”

And with that he took his open beer and headed out the door.

Once he was gone, I felt my high falling. This was always the worst part, it came with a bubbling aggression and the shit with Nox certainly didn’t help. Though I knew better than to take it out on him, especially when he was the bridge between me and Elsie. Since I hadn’t planned to be here that long, I didn’t bring any extras to re-up.

I need to get out of here before I come down even more.

I crossed the apartment to find Elsie and say goodbye. Knocking on the half-cracked bedroom door, “Hey Els?” No answer. I creaked the door open to an empty room but saw the bathroom door open and thoughtlessly paced over, “Hey I think I’m gonna head out-“

I stilled to find her in festive mesh thin lingerie. I couldn’t help my eyes from widening before she shrieked and covered herself. I should’ve turned away, I really should have. But how could I when she was there in front of me attired in a red babydoll set, obviously supposing to be Christmas themed by the fuzzy white lining.

Her hands promptly hid her breasts that were only covered by the thin see-through mesh, “What are you doing here?” Her voice starting loud but then lowering most likely in fear of Nox hearing her. “You can’t be here.”

“Well, I came here to tell you that he left went to the market for a uh-“ Coming up with a better excuse than a pie right now was difficult since I was more focused on not getting hard. Which I was failing at, bringing folded hands to cover my crotch. “A pie. We forgot dessert.”

“Oh- Well,” There was a visible conflict stirring in her mind, “Well, you need to get out.”

Right.

I hummed taking in the sight of her, her chest covered but the rest of the short dress not hiding much else. “Is that what you want?”

She blinked at me, taking longer to respond than someone who really didn’t want someone to see them. But her look then dropped, “This is embarrassing.” Moving one arm to conceal both breasts and crossed the other diagonally over her body. “I was just trying it on.”

“You tryin’ to give Nox a last-minute Christmas gift?” I joked, the only thing I could do to distract myself.

She gave a sad smile and shook her head, “No, No I’d never wear this in front of him. He’d just think it’s stupid. I guess I just bought because I thought it was pretty.” Her shoulders pulled up in a defeated shrug. “It looks awful anyway.”

The comedown anger bubbled up in me again. It just made no fucking sense to me, what the fuck was he saying to her to make her this insecure. No wonder she didn’t want to fuck him.

“Well,” Stepping towards her, “Let me see.” I softly ran my fingers under her arm signaling to move it. Her green eyes flickered up to mine as she hesitantly obliged letting me take her wrist and lifting it away. The thin material barely coving her nipples, peaking at the sudden cold.

Through everything we did, we never saw each other naked. This was the first time seeing her bare and my god she was a sight. I marveled over the absolute vision of her, the way the fluffy white lining rounded her large breasts then flowed down her full hourglass figure. The short dress landing just below her panties. “I think you look beautiful.” I said simply, not wanting to overstep. While it was true, the words I actually wanted to say were much different.

A tinge of red pulled from her cheeks, “You think so?”

“Mhm.” Again, pushing words down while raking down her silhouette. “Nox is a fucking idiot if he doesn’t think you look fucking delicious.”

Oops.

Her eyes rounded, her other arm covering her chest again, “Austin.” Reprimanding, “You can’t be saying things like that.”

“You were the one that asked for my opinion.” I replied in a blasé tone and a shrug.

“I- Yeah well, you just can’t.” Her gaze focused on some tile on the floor.

I stepped closer, “Why’s that?” Picking her chin up to meet my eyes, “Because you like it?”

I crossed the doorway now fully in the bathroom with her, my finger sliding under the thin strap of the dress, “I think you’re lying.” I could feel her racing heart already beneath my knuckle.

She brought her tongue between her lips, “I’m not.”

I tugged the strap to hang off her shoulder, “Why’s your heart beating so fast then?” Grazing my hand down her side causing her to still. The anger from the comedown was converting into something else completely but just as dark, just as forceful, just as primal.

When I reached her hip, I found the skinny band of the obligatory patch of fabric lingerie companies called a thong. Hooking it in my middle finger, tracing it from the back of her hip to the front.

“No touching.” She said so quietly I almost didn’t hear her. I guess this stupid rule was now some secret code for surrender.

“No promises.” In a swift movement I seized her waist, lifting and placing her on the marble vanity. My hands took no time to find their favorite places, which just happened to be everywhere. Lips finding her neck and sinking my teeth into her. I didn’t want to play this stupid game anymore, I wanted to touch.

“Austin,” She gasped then leaning her neck to the side giving me more access. “We can’t.”

“Shut up.” My words surprising me, but I didn’t regret them. I took hold of her hips bringing her to the edge of the counter pressing my prominent bulge into her covered heat. She let out a soft moan when she felt me.

“Aus-“ She protested again though it sounded more like a beg. My hands caressing every inch of her body, my fingers climbing each rib up to her breasts.

She tugged her neck away from me when I started to suck on it, “He’ll kill you if you leave any marks on me.” As much as I wanted to defy her – mark her, claim her. I knew I couldn’t, not if I wanted to keep my corrupt deal with Nox. I obliged softening my actions into just messy kisses. My hands finally finding her tits, massaging them then grazing her stiff nipples with my thumbs.

“I told you, you look delicious,” My tongue trailing up her neck, “I wasn’t lying.” My hands now sliding up her thighs squeezing and pushing them apart further as to push further against her. “Can you feel how much I wasn’t lying?”

“Mhm.” In a tiny sob.

“Have you been thought of me since I last touched you?” I whispered beneath her ear as my fingers moving between her thighs to where the fabric barely covered her core. I heard her breath hitch.

“Mhm.”

“No no no,” I corrected, my tone deepened, “You know how to answer me.”

She closed her eyes in defeat biting into her bottom lip, “Yes.”

“Good girl.” My middle and ring tips followed up her slit, since the panties were just mesh her juices bled right through them, leaking onto my fingers. It sent an untethered jolt through my body and directly into my cock, “You want me to touch you?”

She squeezed eyes shut again pushing down a response, but finally nodding.

“If you want me to touch you, I’m gonna need your words.” Growling into her neck.

“Yes. Over only.” Telling me that the ‘no touching’ rule was still on, which really just meant we could touch just over clothes. I knew why it was there, I knew why we had it but the head on my shoulders wasn’t the one thinking right now.

“Do you think about me when you’re with him?” Her hands gripped the counter, I knew she didn’t want to answer this one.

“Yes.”

My fingers now hovered over her bundle, “Have you touched yourself thinking about me?”

From her audible gulp and the way she froze under me told me she really didn’t wanna answer that one. Yet, the wetness beneath my fingertips only grew from my words, the feeling of it – of what I caused – made me ravenous, insatiable. Like a shark that had just smelled blood for the first time in weeks. I got my answer from her reaction, but I wanted to hear it. My free hand caressed up her thigh giving it a squeeze, “C’mon darlin’ you can tell me. Have you used your fingers on your pretty pink pussy thinking about me?”

“Fuck,” She breathed out with a moan, “Yes.”

I rewarded by moving in circles over her covered clit earning a gasp. My lips curled into a smirk against her neck, “That’s it, doesn’t that feel good?”

“Mhm.”

I let that one pass from how pitiful it was. Her hand hesitantly moved to my tightened pants, her fingers trailing up my covered length. I let out an involuntary groan, it wasn’t til just then that I realized she’d never put her hands on me. Her touch fueled me even more.

“You’re so hard.” She whispered, “For me?”

No shit, who fucking else could make me this hard.

“Only you baby.” It slipped from me. It had been swirling on the tip of my tongue all night. I’d craved saying it again since last time.

My fingers worked slightly faster circles into her swollen nub. I was so distracted by my lips on her neck and her moans that I didn’t even notice her unzipping my pants. Her hand now palming my hard member only separated by boxers. I grasped tightly onto her hip letting out a grunt. Her hand felt so good on me, I wanted to know what it felt fully around me. The way she moved suggested she wanted to know the same.

But I firmly gripped her wrist and pulled it away from me. I tugged her hips even closer to the edge of the vanity and lowly into her neck in almost a growl, “The next time you make me come, it’s going to be inside of you.”

“Okay.” She said plainly then slipped from my grasp. I didn’t even know what she was doing until she was on her knees in front of me.

Hooked fingers at my sides slid both boxers and jeans down letting my length spring free. Her eyes rounded at the size then glancing up at me. I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a compliment or a request for permission.

“I thought we weren’t touching.” The sight of her on knees in front of me and her lips so close to me really clouded the reasons.

“’You won’t be inside me, it won’t count.’” Shooting the words I gave her on the couch back at me. Before I could even put up a fight her tongue slowly made its up the underside of my length, reaching the tip and swirling at it.

“Fuck.” I swore as her tongue began to trace every vein before following the ridges around my head, causing me to twitch on her tongue. Pride seemed to fuel her, taking the whole tip into her mouth. “Stop teasing me baby, I wanna see you take all of it.”

Innocent eyes looking up at me, wrapping her hand around my base and guiding my member to tap then slide over her tongue. I reached down to gently hold her cheek, “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

A tinge of red peaked her cheeks, “Pretty?”

Shit.

It was something so simple – obviously we wouldn’t be touching like this if we weren’t at least somewhat attracted to each other, but we never said it out loud. And I couldn’t have said anything else – hot or sexy – it had to be fucking pretty. The most delicate one, even if it was in this filthy context.

My hand traced along her jawline to her chin, taking it between my thumb and index, “Yeah baby, you look so pretty.”

Elsie’s green eyes lit up almost as bright as the lights on her tree. Her reaction now highlighting a trend. Yes of course she’s evidently deprived of pleasure, but she was also deprived of this – just the words pretty or a slight touch to her cheek. She soaked up any attention like a sponge. I’ve known girls who do anything for attention and live to be the center of it, but that’s not what this was.

Her demeanor changed after the compliment, the innocent timid manner turned to something, almost, artificial…?

“I like having you in mouth.” Stating in a forced tone, looking up at me with the light from before now dimmed then promptly slid down my entire length, choking slightly when my tip reached the back of her throat.

“God – Fuck” Tangling my fingers into her hair and dropping my head back, “God your mouth feels so good.”

A vibrating hum rounded my girth, bobbing faster on me keeping her tongue anchored to the underside of my length while she moved.

It felt amazing to have her mouth finally around me – obviously – but it was so fast, rough, overly animated. Porn-like.

That’s what it was, porn like. But not in the good way, in the annoying exaggerated way.

“Darlin’,” The hand in her hair moved down to her cheek again, “Darlin’ there’s no rush.”

Sage green eyes faltered as she slid her mouth off me, pulling away with a string of drool still connecting her lips to my cock, “What, you don’t like it?” Giving me a pout like she’d cooked a meal that came out bad.

“No, no I do, I love it.” Bending down while holding her jaw, “I want you to do it the way you want to, not the way you think I want, okay?”

The bright in her gaze returned when she nodded, “Okay.”

“Good,” I leaned back and watched her take over.

The actions much softer now, her tongue curled gently just under my head, plump lips slid up and over the summit of the swollen tip. She brought her hand up to where her mouth worked stealing some of the excess saliva as lube to smoothly glide down my shaft. When she wasn’t trying to act like a pro, she actually was one.

“Oh fuck,” I cursed while her hand pumped at the base while she took as much of me as she could. I’m sure she wasn’t used to my size but if we kept making this mistake, I’d get her used to it eventually.

The threat of Nox coming home any minute lingered in the back of my mind, if he were to catch us, we’d both be dead – and our deal would certainly be null. But the way she looked having me in her mouth and knowing that I could fuck her better than he ever could, only heightened the thrill. The illicit sneaking was painful in its own right, but it did come with perks. The implications and consequences had conveniently left my mind since right now, it was only filled with the idea of him finding us with my cock lodged deep in her throat. And well, there was still some masculine urge coming from my groin demanding to mark my territory, and that urge really seemed to like the idea of showing him how much of a slut his girlfriend was for me.

“God I’ve wanted to be in your mouth for so long,” Grasping her brunette waves between my fingers and rolled my hips into her, feeling every ridge of her throat. She let out a gagged whine but didn’t halt. I repeated the action pushing myself further down. She choked but didn’t pull away and her tongue never quit working around me.

“You like my cock fucking your throat?” She replied in a pathetic ‘mhm’ hum. I brutally thrusted down her again and tugged her hair to move my member even further. She let out a pitched whine but stayed put while I continued to use her mouth for my own pleasure. Tears from her endurance began to fill her eyes, smudging her makeup as they rolled down her cheek. I couldn’t mark her, but I could do that.

I knew I wasn’t going to last long like this, “Fuck I’m close,”

She nodded as best she could with me still in her mouth and gave me a confirming look.

“Where do you want me to cum baby?” My entire body buzzed, on the edge of my precipice.

A finger quickly pointed at her throat indicated she wanted to swallow me. Probably since she didn’t want any proof on her.

I continued to fuck her mouth, each slam into the back of her throat pushing me closer and closer to my end. Her whimpers only intensified with my speed. It was when I imagined it was her pussy that I was balls deep in that made every fire burning my skin to finally erupt into the back of her throat. I kept her head stationary by her locks, was gagging pathetically around me but took it all, swallowing every drop.

Finally dislodging from her throat and out of her mouth, my cock and her lips covered in dripping drool. She looked like a fuckin’ dream, her makeup running, lips swollen and glistening with her own saliva.

“Fuck you did so good for me baby,” In any other scenario, with any other girl, I’d lean down and kiss her, mess and all. But this wasn’t any other girl, and I wasn’t allowed to touch her.

Even though I’ve already had her pussy in my mouth, and she just swallowed my cum. ‘No touching’ though, right?

“I did?” She squeaked out, barely a voice behind the rasp of just having her throat used.

“Mhm,” Leaning down cupping her cheek, “So so good baby, I think you deserve a reward.”

Her painted lashes batted up at me with the purest gape, one I’d only seen in girls who liked getting praised, girls who liked being controlled. I knew if I leaned into the praise she’d disintegrate between my fingers. But that was a special dynamic, one I couldn’t nurture with her. A dynamic I wasn’t sure I wanted with her. Sure, us messing around was one thing but she’d been my best friend for years. How was I supposed to dominate her? She didn’t let me tell her what to do on any given day, why would she let me do that now?

“No, no…” She dropped our eye contact and sat back on her legs, “I don’t think I deserve it.”

If I was still vengeful, I’d agree with her, but she just sucked the soul out of me. I owed her something.

“Of course you do darlin’,” Tilting her view back up to me, “You did so good for me, c’mon let me take care of you.”

All she did was blink up at me unmoving, so I did take control of that at least. I hooked both hands beneath her arms causing a gasp then plopping her atop the vanity.

“What’re you doin Aus?” She questioned shyly.

All I fucking wanted to do was touch her, grip her, squeeze her, kiss her everywhere and yet I had to restrain from every line I wanted to cross. Everything – the hiding, the tip toeing around what we were doing, her pushing me away, frustrating me – it all loaded me like a gun. A gun I wanted to turn on her, use on her.

I didn’t know if it was the drug fleeing my system or true resentment that had stacked in my body, but I wanted to use every ounce of fury on her. I couldn’t be angry over those things though, I couldn’t be angry as a friend, but like this? Maybe I could take it out on her someday. I’m sure my arsenal would be nice and full by then.

I grasped her hips easily sliding her to the edge, my lips finally claiming land on her neck again. It took no time for tiny whines to fall from her puffy lips, “Aus.”

“I won’t leave any marks,” Reassuring her but my voice much less kind than before, my fingertips digging into her full hips, “But I want to.”

“You do?”

Answering her with sloppy, just barely sucking kisses in the areas I knew she liked. The physical restraint was almost impossible to control. “You were so good for me baby, I wanna make you feel just as good.”

Her thighs rubbed together letting me know she wanted it as much as I did. “I uh, I like making you feel good.”

“Oh yeah?” Trailing hands down her barely covered curves landing on her thighs, squeezing up from her knees spreading them. My digits ran over her already soaked panties. “You like making me cum?”

She wriggled, shifting thighs under my touch, “Mhm.”

“Hm,” Pacing slow up and down her slit, “What did we talk about words?”

She let out a defeated sigh, “Yes.”

“Yes what?” My finger teasing the edge of the thong laying on her lip.

“Yes I- I like making you cum Aus.” She forfeited for me.

“Good girl,” I breathed just below her ear, erupting goosebumps across her shoulder, “See how easy that was? Now I can let you cum.”

She squirmed even more, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was trying to get my fingers to slip from their halted position. I sunk my teeth into her neck but promptly lightened the pressure, though from her immediate moan it seemed she didn’t want me to stop.

I indulged her neediness and pulled the panties aside using her own juices as lubricant to swirl around her swollen nub. “God you’re so fucking wet.” Sounding more like a groan than a statement. She gripped my forearm when my fingers slid into her entrance.

“Aus,” She sobbed curling forward to rest her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arm around the one at work. “I love- when you touch me.”

I wasn’t high enough to even acknowledge her misstep. It didn’t matter anyway, probably just a reflex.

“I love- it too.” Stumbling in the same way she did.

Fuck

Why did I make that same mistake?

I had to shut both of us before we fumbled any further, luckily, I knew just the trick.

Sliding from her core and forcing her to the edge, leaving ghost kisses down her body before kneeling in front of her. I wrapped my arms around her thighs firmly and took her in my mouth before she had a chance to protest.

“Oh fuck.” Her hand instantly entwined in my hair and rutting her hips into my mouth so frenziedly, you’d think she was in heat. Her juices covered my face already and I fucking loved it only fueling me more.

I did that, I made her that fucking wet.

“Fingers – please.” Her enunciation skipping between syllables pitifully.

I obliged returning my digits to their rightful place, snug between her walls and curving into her sweet spot. My tongue lapped up her folds swallowing every drop of her succulence, matching the desperation she exuded. When I finally began focusing on where she needed me, she disheveled – tugging at my hair, moans filling the room, hips revolving into my fingers essentially fucking herself on them. I spun figure-8’s against her clit only resulting in her vibrating beneath me telling me she was already close.

“Uh – I,” She hesitated, attempting to regain any composure from her pathetic voice, “Can I come Aus?”

As much as I loved her asking for permission, it did beg the question as to what would make her ask. I wasn’t in charge of her and she didn’t have to obey me.

I freed her for just a second, “Yeah baby, be a good girl and come for me.”

My work continued on her bud helping her towards her demise, her pitching moans only driving how ravenously I ate her.

“Aus- Aust!” Letting out with a scream, releasing her orgasm onto my fingers and all over my mouth.

A scream

The second time I made her scream my name.

“Fuck, Fuck!” She continued as my actions didn’t stop letting her ride out her high until her clenching walls ceased.

When she was finally spent, I pulled myself up wiping the excess juices from my chin with the back of my hand. Before I could I had the chance to praise her more, she fell forward on me, resting her head on my chest. I shouldn’t have, really should’ve have – but I pulled my arms around her bringing her into an embrace. It was just a hug or so it seemed, but the intimacy it brought wasn’t something just a hug would bring.

“You did so good.” I whispered, giving her back a gentle rub. I wanted to end it with a ‘baby’ but we were out of that haze, the spell was broken and those luxuries departed with it. She curled into me, nuzzling against my abdomen and clasping one of my arms around her.

“Thank you.” Her voice soft still, in a submissive tone. There was a long pause before speaking again, “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

What did that mean? Did she want to go again? Did she want me to hold her in bed like I do when she’s drunk?

Leave

“Oh fuck.” I tugged away though her grip kept me anchored, “Fuck Els, I have to go Nox could be here any minute.”

She seemed unphased, not even moving to react, “If he went to the store, he’ll be there for a while, you’re fine.”

She knew his patterns, just like she knew mine.

His words rang in my ears – the deal that we made. I couldn’t take the risk of him finding me between his girlfriend’s legs.

“No, No Els, you know I gotta go.” I was able to escape that time, she just frowned at me.

“I know.” Her head hung in dejection and I was reminded exactly why I had to follow Nox’s plot. This was too confusing, it hurt too much.

I hesitated before going to exit but a finger was still hooked with mine, not demanding but requesting my return. Fluttering emeralds saddened when they met mine, swirling some guilt in me as if I was deserting her. Once again, I was wrapped in her web.

It was a brutal battle between my body and whatever was compelling me to take her face in my hands, admiring every feature. Thumbs tenderly slid up her cheek bones causing her to lean into my touch, “Merry Christmas Els.”

Her own delicate hand came up to cup the one that she had leaned into, closing her eyes and giving my hand a little squeeze as she pressed it against her cheek. After taking in the moment, her sad greens found mine again, “Merry Christmas Aus.”

Every cell in my body was trying to convince me that I wanted all the things he had, all the things he got to do with her. Before it was merely sexual, I wanted to touch her, taste her, be inside her. Except now, I ached for all the boring shit with the same ferocity.

The necklace.

The stupid fucking necklace.

Yeah, I got her the priceless Elvis vinyls that she exploded over, ones that intrinsically tied into her very being – more so than some meaningless Kay Jeweler necklace. And yet it still felt superior. No matter what I could do or give her it would always pale in comparison. She’d unwaveringly choose him like he was her religion, and I was just the sin she was ashamed of. I was the evil she was relentlessly tempted by but would later repent for.

I didn’t have that luxury. My religion was synthetic and there was no penance for worshipping it.

Next Chapter -> 24 - Ski Slopes**

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P.S. Fun fact - This chapter is followed by 3 more back to back smut chapters 👀