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itsokbbygrl · 7 months

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Proper Education: A Dark!Joel Saltburn AU Chapter 1: Fair is Foul, and Foul is Fair

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x OFC!Reader (written in 2nd POV)

Chapter Rating: M for foul language, underage drinking, mentions of sexual activity and drug use

Word Count: 1.1k, just a baby chapter to kick things off (don't get used to this, most of these chapters will be monsters)

Reader Immersibility: OFC is insanely white coded (frankly this whole story is full of white nonsense), she is from an old money wealthy family that owns an estate from the Gilded Age in New York, she is 18 years old, a college freshman at University of Texas at Austin, and is considered beautiful by society's standards in 2006 which means she is thin, has long hair, and is able bodied. She is relatively smart, but by no means a scholar. She is very sociable and often uses her charm to get her way. Story is written in 2nd person POV so the reader can feel what she is feeling as the story progresses and to keep the reader’s perspective limited as things start to get weird whacky and wild, but it will be difficult for the average reader to see themselves as her physically (myself included, trust me).

Chapter Tags: 18+ MDNI, foul language, implied drug use, underage drinking, mentions of sexual activity, college freshman aged OFC, rich white people doing rich white people things, author is requesting that you suspend your disbelief for some of these things!!!, OFC's family estate is a real place but is not a family home, liberties are taken with regard to UTA student life, inspired by Saltburn

Dividers by @pommecita, story is not beta'd, just written and edited by yours truly

Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o’ th’ milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way. -Lady Macbeth, Act 1 Scene 5

The car slows to a stop in front of the familiar old tower. The stone structure bleached by unrelenting ultraviolet rays from the unrelenting sun baring down an omnipresent heat. You’d almost forgotten what it was like, the Texan summer. Almost.

Your driver removes your luggage from the trunk of the black town car as you exit from your seat and step into the perpetually sticky August air, shading your eyes with a hand at your brow so you can properly thank him before you reach for your purse and leave him with a generous tip. You can’t remember his name, but you’re thankful for his service nonetheless. You’ve long become accustomed to a variety of faces in your family’s employ weaving in and out of your life; he is simply another face and name to add to the ever-increasing register.

Your family sent the majority of your things ahead of move-in day, the university easily agreeing to transport them to your suite in student housing, a benefit of having your last name on one of the buildings, you rationalize, leaving you with a single suitcase and weekend bag to attend to on your own as you make your way to the designated key pickup zone.

You were regretting your choice of attire the farther you strode across campus. You’d spent the last three months of your summer break idling at your family’s Long Island estate. The cool sea air making you quickly forget how unabating the summer heat was in landlocked central Texas. Your family had escaped the annual calefaction just after your graduation, retreating from your home in the rolling hills of Austin to the cool serenity of the Island. The estate is grandiose, passed through generations and now belonging to your mother and father. A bit gaudy in its opulence, in your opinion, but you harbor many fond memories from your summers spent there throughout your life—running through the vast gardens, sunning yourself on the meticulously manicured lawns, learning to golf and play tennis and swim, and as you grew a bit older, partaking in the many lavish parties hosted by your parents and grandparents alike, kissing boys in secret corridors, drunkenly losing your virginity in the grand library, gleefully breaking your D.A.R.E. pledges with your dear sister and cousin in your bathroom the first time someone brings over a tiny plastic baggie full of unlabeled white powder.

Your exposed skin glistened with sweat; low rise denim skirt clinging to the skin at your hips, skin beginning to chafe uncomfortably between your thighs. You were glad you’d opted to clip your hair up in a classic twist before you’d gotten off the plane, keeping your neck free from being insulated by your thick tresses. You’re thankful for the many trips to campus over your lifetime as you head towards the designated booth for freshmen to pick up their dorm keys. You’re a fourth generation Longhorn, a legacy, and you know you have a reputation to uphold. You try to keep your face poised, relaxed, friendly, as the growing beads of moisture begin to drip in tiny rivulets between your breasts and along the central dip of your spine.

You introduce yourself to the upperclassman working the table for your building and complete the requisite paperwork before you’re handed your keys—one for your door, one for your personal mailbox—and instructed to stop in the lobby before you drop off your items so you can have your student identification badge issued.

“Your ID works like a key to get into the building after 10pm. Don’t lose it,” you’re warned by the table attendant.

“Thank you, I’ll be careful,” you answer congenially, leaving them with a charming smile before you head in the direction of your dorm.

You find your building without issue and reluctantly have your picture taken by the residence hall staff for your student ID. They give you a rundown of the general building rules—curfew is 10pm, after which time only residents with their programmed ID badges will be permitted entrance, all overnight guests must be checked in at the front desk with a government or student ID, no alcohol or illicit drugs are permitted on the premises, smoking is not permitted inside the building—and you maintain eye contact with the staffer and smile and nod while you let their words flow in one ear and out the other.

Once you finish signing your agreement to follow the established residence hall code of conduct, your student ID has been printed and programmed. You take the badge with kind smiles and ample thanks before you haul your luggage to the elevator and make your way to your assigned room. A private double room all to yourself. Your parents insisted, making sure you’d have enough space to study and relax in equal measure.

“Sweetpea, you know how it is there, those RAs are not gonna be as lenient as your daddy and I with the,” your mother stops her sentence and gestures, mimicking smoking a joint with one hand and drinking from a bottle with the other. She had sat on the other end of the plush sofa with you as you debated which residence hall to choose after coming home after your new student orientation the previous spring.

You scoffed and kicked out a leg, painted toes bumping her thigh.

“What? I’m just sayin’, babydoll. You’re a good time, college is a good time, but the RAs can be real,” she lowers her voice, “cunts.” She snickers a laugh at her own crudeness.

“Mama, I know. I just thought it was part of the,” you raise both of your hands, forefingers and middle fingers miming quotation marks in the air, “college experience to have a random roommate or whatever.” You look back at the brochures in front of you and sigh before relenting. “I guess you’re right. The privacy will be nice.”

“Damn straight, baby. Plus, you don’t have to worry about a roommate being around when you bring a nice young man home to fu—”

“MOM, jesus,” you cut her off, shaking your head as she laughs.

“What?! Baby girl you are my daughter, that means you’re half of me, and I fully know what that entails, ok? No reason to be ashamed of it, you’re young and gorgeous. Enjoy it while it lasts,” she tips her glass of white wine in your direction. You reach for your own on the coffee table, lifting it to hers, allowing the crystal to clink and chime in cheers as you both take a sip.

You use your new key to unlock your door and haul your bags inside, finding boxes stacked neatly in the corner for you to unpack. “Welcome home, I guess,” you say to the four walls you’ll call home for the next year.

Navigation: Chapter 2: coming soon | Series Masterlist

a/n: thank you for reading! this is a multi-chaptered work in process with new chapters being posted approximately every other Friday at or around 7pm CT (pending my work schedule changing to late shift). please consider not only liking, but reblogging and leaving a comment or tags to give me some feedback! reblogs are the only way content is circulated on this platform and are always appreciated!

follow @itsokbbygrl-notifs and subscribe to notifications to receive notice when new chapters are posted.

#LJ writes #joel miller x oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel x oc #joel x you #dark!fic #dark!joel miller #WIP #fan fiction #ongoing #ongoing series #proper education fic

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coleskingdom · 7 months

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High Rollers, Keep Em High

Jay White xF Reader

Genre Smut Minors DNI NSFW

Inspired by this

“ I feel like Colten and Austin got robbed?” I told Jay as we were sitting in the couch one evening. “What do you mean? “ Jay asked his curiosity peaked. “ I mean they haven’t gotten to experience the perks of being in Bullet Club. Hell I even miss the old days. They’re young they should be out running shit, have you even taken them out.” he slid closer to me “Colten is older than I am, I’m sure their dad took them out.” he said “ Jay you can’t be serious. “ I shoved him playfully, “After all the time that was spent creating the aura of bullet club you’re gonna just cop out with their dad took them. For fucks sake till they were with you they looked like they shopped at an hbk fire sale for their gear. What’s one night? I don’t even have to go, take the boys out they deserve one night.” I said hoping to convince him “ Oh no , you’re not dumping this on me, I hear your point, and I think you’re right. Besides if there’s gonna be a one night extravaganza you have to be there since you miss it so much.” he laughed pulling me in close.

I kept waiting for him to tell me what he had planned, and the weeks went on. As the days ticked off ahead of Double or Nothing I thought for sure he would’ve said something finally the week of the show I told him “So I rented a room at that place in Vegas. I arranged the bottle service, cigars, and entertainment for the evening. Will you please make sure that the boys are dressed appropriately?” I said casually “ You really want them to see what it means when I say high rollers keep em high. Seriously though I was going to take care of it but thank you.I did however take care of our hotel for the weekend, I got us the bungalow at the cosmopolitan that you like so much.” he said walking up behind me and putting his arms around me. “Thank you for taking care of the boys. You’ve always been so good to me and them.” He kissed the side of my neck. “ I’ll take care of the boys and lay the rules out , I may even invite a few of your favorite people. I know this integration isn’t your favorite but I appreciate you doing this.” He said “ You’re welcome” wondering what he had planned.

Arriving at the hotel, it was just as I remembered the pool looking over the strip, the bath tub that o could lay down in, “ Jay, I was wrong, we don’t need to go out. We can stay in” I pleaded, “ Oh no, this was your idea. You better go get ready, we have a car coming.” he slapped me on the ass playfully. “Fine, but I’m gonna make you regret denying the offer.” I said sauntering off . “I have no doubt in my mind that you will.”as I shut the bathroom door. I emerged, Jay looking handsome as ever his black suit with the black shirt open , the gold watch the only, and the aviators his only accessories , his hair pulled up into a bun. “Jesus Jay, really, I’m not letting you go out like that.” he chuckled, “Your one to talk on your short black dress and heels, can you even sit in that ?” Pulling me into his side. “ We are quite the pair” he said admiringly.

We went down stairs to the waiting limo, both Colten and Austin were down there, Juice and Toni, then the surprises started showing up , Adam and Britt, Matt , Nick and Page. I hugged each of them “ Kayfabe is good and dead huh?” I said laughing at Cole. “ Well if there was ever a night for the devil to show up, it sounds like it’s tonight besides Britt wasn’t around then.” he laughed ,”Besides those Gunn Boys are gonna need reigning in” I figured I’d come in as back up. “Who convinced Matt and Nick to show up?” Still genuinely surprised “Did I hear someone ask who convinced me? Does everyone forget we were part of the original members? Besides we didn’t celebrate the 10 year anniversary better late than never right.” Matt said . “ Everyone in, let’s get the night rolling “ Jay said as though he was hoarding cats.

The room reserved that had been previously draped in black and white was now draped in black and gold. The dim lighting, the rooms segregated off into, a cigar lounge, a bar and then the stage with for the dancers. “ It’s perfect, it’s like stepping back into time.” Jay said “ Boys welcome to Bullet Club” as Jay handed Austin and Colten each a wad of cash . We took a seat in a darken corner, Jays natural instinct to watch everything took over, I curled in close to him. The drinks were following and everyone was having a good time. Britt and Cole came and sat across from us. “ Were we ever that bad ?” Pointing over his shoulder to Colten who had a girl on his lap a drink and money in his mouth. “Do you really want me to answer that?” Jay asked laughing “All I know is when I was handed the keys and the playbook your group left was something else.” Jay said “ Alright so we were that bad, well some of us, once in awhile.” Adam could tell Britt was paying attention. I looked at Britt and laughed. “ I’m kidding, before me they all stayed playing video games eating pizza and cuddling in their footie pajamas." Jay said getting the reaction out of Adam he wanted. Adam’s exasperated face made it all the funnier. He grabbed Britt’s hand and found somewhere else to be. “ Did you really need to do that?”, I asked still laughing , “ What you wanted the old me so here I am?” his smug grin telling me all I needed to know.

I had noticed one of the entertainers had her eyes on Jay. She looked him up and down , settling on his face wondering what the aviators were hiding, her curiosity just about to get the best of her. Her confident strut as she made her way over. “Just like the old days you’re being eyed.” I looked at the woman as I put my hand possessively on Jays thigh. “Jealous, much my dear” his voice teasing my ear, “She’s just doing her job. Do you want her to dance for us ? Do you want her to grind on me while you watch or should she grind on you while I watch? My personal favorite though is you sitting on my lap while she grinds on you and I grind on you.“ his voice that unnerving calm that was so seductive it just has an edge of danger. “ I want you to pay her to go away. As for me being jealous what do you want the answer to be Jay? No, because I trust you or Yes, because you are mine, and I don’t trust myself when she looks at you like she’s going to devour you.” I said. Jay pulled me on his lap kissing me, in full display of the entire room, his mouth claiming mine, in a show of dominance. His hand with cash over my shoulder for the woman. When he pulled away, I was breathless, “If someone is devouring anyone tonight, it’s me going to be devouring you.” his voice pure sin. He kissed me again then moved his lips on my neck in this dark corner of the room , a little noise escaped my mouth. “Shhhh… you’re gonna give yourself away. “ He kissed me again bringing me to be straddled across his lap, his hands on my ass, my hands in his hair. “Do you want to get out of here?”he said. Pulling me down on his hard length. “Not yet” I said, I could still feel the woman’s eyes on us, Jay kissed my neck as his hands ran up and down my sides before returning to my mouth.

“Jay, follow me. “ I said as I got off of his lap. I took his hand leading him towards the bathroom, I stepped inside grateful that it was more of a powder room he followed. “Dirty Girl” his voice like velvet, “ Couldn’t even wait to get in the car before you needed me.” His hands lowering the straps of my dress “ Now can you be quiet, or are you hoping that the dancer is listening on the other side of the door.” His mouth grazing over my breast, taking a nipple into his mouth, his hand massaging the other one. A little whimper escaping, “That’s it isn’t it.” Pinching my nipple while his teeth bit the other, a moan slipped from my mouth as I tugged at his hair. He dropped to his knees in front of me lifting the dress up around my hips, he lowered the thong, helping me step out of it “These are mine now"as he put them in his pocket. He pressed my back against the door my hand on the knob for balance as he lifted one leg over his shoulder and his mouth was on my core,licking and sucking, “Oh fuck Jay” words and moans falling from me, he kept going my hand holding his head , where I needed him. I felt the pressure build, his well practiced mouth drawing my orgasm from me, a louder than intended moan fell from my lips as I said his name. The smugness on his face when he lowered my leg from his shoulder. “ I think you’ve proven your point” he said wickedly “ Actually I don’t think I have” I said reaching for the button of his pants. “Greedy Girl, I think you’re right.” As my hands slid down his pants and boxers. “ Is this what you need? To claim what you already know is yours?”Lifting me up against the door, his cock aligned with my center, as he thrust in. “Yes” his pace was fast and I held onto him, scratching his back as he bit my neck. I moaned and clenched around him, drawing a groan from him. He changed the angle just enough that he was hitting deep inside and my clit. He could feel my second impending orgasm,as his own approached. I felt him twitch inside me. I cried out his name, as I felt it wash over me. He thrust two more times as I felt his release, I kissed him deeply, my hands now running gently through his hair. Soothing words fell from my lips, as our breathing returned to normal I kept him close to me.

He helped me down, as we both tried to compose ourselves, “Can I have my panties back” I asked reaching out my hand. “Nope, in fact I’m going to let them show out of my back pocket.” he said mercilessly. I looked at him in the mirror my cheeks flushed, my lips swollen. “How do I look?” I asked, trying to compose my self. “Well fucked and satisfied “ he grinned, as he was smoothing out his own hair, and putting the aviators back on. He put his arms around my waist his chin on the top of my head. “Let’s get out of here.” he said , I nodded as he took my hand and led me out the door.

#jay white x you #switchblade jay white smut #jay white smut #bullet club smut #bullet club gold smut #aew smut #aew fanfiction #jay white x reader #jay white fanfiction

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bed-chemist · 1 year

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❝you've never been to heaven, have you?❞

A/N: this is my first time writing something for tumblr, or like this in general. feedback is greatly appreciated. this also isn't edited so ignore any mistakes. as a baking girly, i couldn't get this story out of my head. i legit would lay in bed at night and dream about hard-ass chef miller and the sweet baker. enjoy ♡

Prelude Summary: the sweetest baker has a birthday lunch with her friends, effectively humbling the chef in the process.

Chapter Warnings: death of a parent (mentioned), language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), threatening (brief, joke between two girl friends in an established friendship).

Key Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

⋆ word count: 3.7k ⋆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

JUNE 30TH

“Welcome to The Austin. I assume you have a reservation?”

Of course, we had a reservation.

This was one of the hardest restaurants to get into. The reviews are excellent and they’re rumored to be gunning for a Michelin Star. Luckily, my best friend Madeline was what you considered Chicago pretty. Her charisma and beauty make her a shoo-in for being a model.

The long and wavy blonde hair cascades over her back as she flutters her lashes at the host behind the stand. “Yes. It’s my best friend’s birthday and we have a reservation under Madeline Crown,” she speaks for our small group, shoving me forward as the designated birthday girl. A mischievous twinkle flashes in her blue eyes and her smile takes over.

Raising my hand, I wave awkwardly at the host. “That’s me,” I admit shyly, adjusting my falling crown and sash.

He flashes me a small smile. “Happy Birthday,” he breathes quickly before tapping the screen. “Just the three of you, Ms. Crown?” he asks Maddie, looking behind us at the group.

The phrase makes me grimace. My parents died in a car accident five hundred fifty-six days ago. And for five hundred fifty-six days, I’ve been suffering. They were the closest people to me and left me alone in this world as an only child. The only family I have left is the one I’ve created with Madi, Leo, and their families. I didn’t want to burden them with my birthday festivities, so Madi and I opted for lunch with just the three of us.

“Yeah. And we need a booth away from eyes,” the third voice in our trio, Leonardo, blurts out. He shifts, anxious to get to our table and out of the lobby. Out of the three of us, he’s more likely to have to be bombarded by people during this lunch given our current surroundings.

Why on earth did I choose to be friends with a socialite and a senator? I don’t like attention and as of now, all eyes are on us. The sash and crown Maddie forced me to wear don’t help.

His two secret service agents stand upright a few paces back. We’d planned for weeks to get clearance for this lunch, so having them tag along was only a slight damper. “Right this way,” the host snaps me out of my spiral, grabbing a couple of menus and motioning us to follow him.

My feet carry me forward through the restaurant behind Madi, who stops to exchange pleasantries with an acquaintance. Softly brushing past her, I continue to follow the host with Leo and his team trailing behind me.

The restaurant is situated on the top floor in the middle of downtown. The open windows allow natural light in and the faint smell of steak wafts through the air as we weave through the open floorplan. My back hunches forward feeling slightly out of place in a room full of the fabulously wealthy.

Although I’m not entirely broke, my bakery just got in the black. If it weren’t for the parental death and what they passed on to me, I’d still studying to be a nurse. But after their death, I decided I’d only do things that would make me happy. Now the glaring separation between me and the rich and powerful feels like a slap in the face.

We reach a square table near the corner of the space. We’re still in view of everyone, there’s just room for Leo’s secret service to stand between us and them. Leo pulls a chair out for me closest to the window and I thank him, sliding into my seat.

The host puts the menus down on the table in front of us before letting us know our server will be with us shortly. Leo thanks him before taking his seat next to me, with his back towards the majority of the restaurant.

Leo sighs as Madi joins us again. “What did I miss?” she huffs.

Rolling my eyes, me and Leo open our menus, “Literally nothing. We just sat down,” I tell her, jokingly.

After some time of reading the menu, the tips of Madi’s fingers twinkle on the table out of the corner of my eye. Her sparkly white nail polish immediately catches my attention. “Well, this place is to die for. What is everyone getting?” she beams.

Flipping back and forth between the sides and appetizer pages, I furrow my eyebrows. “Why the fuck would you bring me to a place with no fries on my birthday?” I ask her begrudgingly.

Leo flips back to the appetizer page and slides his menu over. “They have baked potatoes,” he mansplains, pointing at the page.

Pushing the bound leather book back before him, I shake my head. “I hate to break it to you but that’s not french fries, Bookie,” I counter.

Madi puts her hands up in defense. “They’re a potato. I thought you’d be good with any potato,” she explains.

Leaning back into my chair, I rub my eyebrows in frustration. “Yeah, but I don’t even like steak and we’re at a steak restaurant on my birthday. You know what, fuck it. I’m getting Mcdonalds after–” I start before cutting myself off, noticing the server approaching the table. I don’t want to be rude in a nice restaurant, especially one that’s been so accommodating to my friends.

A brunette woman stands near us. “Welcome to The Austin. My name is Lisa and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you all started with something to drink?” she asks the table.

Sitting up, my mouth opens to speak, but Madi cuts in. “3 margaritas, and keep them coming,” she instructs Lisa.

Lisa nods, flashing a smile towards us. “I’ll be right back with those for you,” she chirps, shifting on her heels to walk towards the back again.

Leo tilts his head at the blonde after we’re left alone. “I can’t drink on the job, Mads,” he scolds Madeline.

Madi shrugs, giving him her signature smirk. “Good thing no one has to know but the three of us, golden boy,” she says, twirling her finger around the table.

Leo seemingly takes the statement to heart, scoffing and crossing his arms. “Oh fuck off. I’m not golden,” he counters.

Shaking my head, I rub his arm so no one snaps a photo of Senator Torres all pent up. “No, you’re not. You’ve just become Mr. Americana to the rest of the world. But we know who you truly are,” I attempt to comfort him. The holes being stared into the back of my head are proving to be lethal.

Leo’s dark brown eyes involuntarily squint as he smiles. “Thank you, Miggy,” he gushes and his body language softens.

And suddenly, I have the ick from the mention of my nickname. How the fuck did Madi date Leo? It was years ago but still. I would’ve thrown up every time he opened his mouth.

Removing my hand from his arm, I raise my eyebrow. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I remind him.

“Might want to ask my assistant about that. I wouldn’t know,” he jokes and I resist the urge to smack him in the chest.

Not in public and not around bodyguards who could take you down in seconds.

Lisa returns with our drinks and I pick the glass up, taking a sip of the lime-flavored beverage. “What can I get you to eat today?” she asks, glancing back and forth between Madi and me.

Madi chirps her order to Lisa as my eyes scan back and forth over the page. None of the entrees were less than two hundred bucks, and I didn’t have breakfast.

I can’t drink on an empty stomach. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it,” Leo leans over and murmurs to me.

Shaking my head, I lean towards him to close the gap. “No. Fuck no,” I whisper yell. He could put it on his card, but I’d still Venmo him for lunch afterward.

He nods with a toothy grin taking over his face. “It’s your birthday and you’re not paying. Get whatever you want,” He objected with finality, turning towards Lisa to order.

Leo’s deep voice drifts to the back of my mind as I scan the menu one last time, finally ready to order. Lisa comes over to me and I decide to try the steak and crab, hoping it’ll change my mind.

Two more rounds of drinks into the lunch, the appetizers arrive at the table. The muscles and oysters taste okay, but the escargot is orgasmic. The buttery breadcrumbs combined with the sourdough has me forgetting I’m eating a snail. Leo and Madi graciously allow me to finish off the plate, offering to order more if I’m interested. Instead of accepting, I fight the urge to lick the plate clean.

When our steaks arrive, Madi claps with excitement. The whole presentation of the meals is rather dramatic. Each dish and its components are read before the plate hits the table.

My mouth waters as my filet mignon and grilled king crab leg is set in front of me. Madi snaps a photo for her social media while Leo and I dig into our meals.

My face soon changes from excitement to a grimace as I try the main course. This is fucking disgusting. The grilled crab is burnt and the filet mignon tastes like rubber. My mouth is only able to chew a few bites before scrambling for my drink.

Leo peers up from his plate, tilting his head. “The fuck is your problem?” he questions me.

Shaking my head, I finish off my third margarita. “Nothing,” I murmur. I should be grateful that I’m even here at all. This place is way out of my budget.

Madi seemingly decides to join the conversation and put her two cents in. “It’s not nothing. If you don’t like the food, they’ll remake it. Look, here comes the owner,” She scolds, nodding to the area behind me.

My upper body slowly twists around to see who she’s talking about. The man in question is walking towards us dressed in crisp white chef attire. My eyes drink him in and I notice his curly chocolate hair. I notice a stray curl falling in front of his face and suddenly, I have the overwhelming urge to reach up and fix it.

I continue my shameless perusal of his body, down to his cuffed shirt hugging him so perfectly and tightly that I can see his muscles. My breathing slightly speeds up.

That is a beautiful specimen of a man.

I’m jolted out of my stare as Leo stands from the table, nodding to the security. “He’s good. It’s his restaurant, for god's sake,” he barks.

My body becomes stiff as the tall man moves smoothly into our area. “Senator Torres, Sir. Thank y’all for your support,” the stranger smiles slightly, extending his hand for Leo to shake.

Leo’s hand tightens its grip, with his other coming up to smack the man’s elbow. Oh, they know each other well. “No, thank you. The catering you made for my election gala was the reason I won the election,” Leo boasts.

So this is the famous chef they’ve been ranting and raving about. I was out of the country securing the last of my parent's affairs when the gala was thrown; something Leo was gracious enough to let me miss.

The handsome man smiles softly, moving his attention to Madi. “Nice to see you again Ms. Crown. Everythin’ tastin’ great, I see,” he charms her with a smirk on his face.

My eyebrows furrow trying to pin down his southern accent. Chicago is a metropolitan city, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he were from Louisiana or Florida. Especially with that beautiful tan, he’s adorning.

Madi straightens her back like a cannon ready to fire. “With mine? Yes. But with Ginny’s not so much. Chef Miller, meet the birthday girl, Imogen,” she introduces us and I’m rendered speechless. His deep brown eyes seemingly stare a hole into my soul.

Anxiety creeps up my spine feeling put on the spot and having to give a bad review in person. “Hi,” I wave shyly.

Chef Miller’s eyes squint in suspicion, focusing down on the food before fixing his gaze back up on me. I silently thank the gods above for a brief break from his intense stare. “You don’t like the steak, darlin’?” he asks, pointedly.

Oh, fuck off. The man is gorgeous, but his food is shit. But, his use of the word darling has me hanging on to every syllable he utters. Shaking my head, I roll my shoulders back a bit. Put the lonely and horny brain away for a second, Ginny. “Or the crab,” I answer.

Chef Miller’s eyebrows raise and I start to etch the details of his face into my brain mentally. He might be early thirties, but the wrinkles on his forehead hint that he’s been through some things. “Nobody has ever complained about my cookin’. What’s wrong with it?” he questions me in his deep husky voice.

Clearing my throat, I bring the plate back in front of me. “It's dry and burnt,” I pause, beckoning Chef Miller over to stand beside me. He walks a bit closer and when he leans over, I can feel his body hovering over mine. When I take a breath, I can smell smoke on him with an undertone of cedar.

Moving the food around on the plate, I show him his shotty work. “Look,” I point out with my fork.

Chef Miller grunts, reaching forward and effectively caging me in between his body in the table. “I’m sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. Can I get you somethin’ else?” He apologizes, swiftly removing the plate from my view.

Shaking my head, I replay reading the menu in my mind. “No, it’s fine. I don’t like anything on the menu,” I explain solemnly, turning towards him. I don’t want him to feel responsible for my picky eating habits, either.

Chef Miller frowns, “It’s your birthday, honey. I’m not sendin’ you out hungry and upset,” he counters.

Reaching out, I put my hand on his exposed forearm in an attempt to get him to listen to me. “I’m not upset. I wouldn’t lie to you,” I loosely promise him. His eyes snap down to where my fingers are connected to his skin then back up at me.

My hand quickly retreats as Lisa comes back around to refill our drinks. Chef Miller turns to hand her the plate and she accepts it before grabbing some glasses from the table. “Why don’t you come back into the kitchen with me and I’ll make somethin’ special for you,” the offer drips from his lips as sweet as whiskey caramel.

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks when I think about being in a room with him. Alone. “No that’s alright. These two have to go soon anyways,” I use the bullshit excuse, hoping he’ll buy it.

He nods, before putting his hands up and conceding. “Ok. Let Lisa know if you change your mind. She’ll bring you back,” he informs me.

He turns his attention back to the entire group. “Y’all have a good day. Hope to see you soon,” he smiles, turning to leave the secluded area.

Both Leo and Madi bid him a hushed goodbye before turning their attention toward me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead this second.

Madi squints her eyes at me, before shoving her empty plate out of the way. “I’m going to murder you,” she threatens me.

My head jerks back in shock. “What? Why?” I ask her.

She sighs, taking a sip of her margarita before slamming it back down on the table. “That was your birthday gift, you dumb cunt. You don’t think we know they don’t have fries. They don’t need fries when they have fine-ass Joel Miller. He was practically fucking drolling on your shoulder and you didn’t even notice,” she fumes.

Joel Miller, the hot single chef, is interested in me. I mean, I’m way out of his league. He’s like the working woman’s Timothée Chalamet. “What?” I ask in disbelief again.

Leo crosses his arms and leans comfortably back in his chair, having finished his meal. “Does she have to repeat herself or are you processing?” Leo picks my brain.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean forward a bit. “Processing, give me a moment,” I tell him, closing my eyes.

“You don’t have a moment. We’re ditching you while they turn over for dinner. And you’re going to go back into that kitchen and have a hot chef whip you up a meal, alone. Then you’re gonna have him whip you up, at home,” I hear Madi scheming.

Suddenly I feel hot, like my whole body just got stuck into an oven. “Madi! I’m not,” I start off shouting a bit at her before realizing we’re in a public space. I’m not even angry at her, I just feel overwhelmed. “I don’t think I’m ready for that,” I bear my soul to her, blinking away tears.

I haven’t had sex since the death of my parents and the cobwebs are tumbling back there. Knowing that my parents would never meet my future partner was a pain that felt soul-crushing. The feeling is just now starting to subside.

Leo reaches up and scratches his curly scalp. “I told you this was a bad idea,” he scolds Madi.

When I make eye contact with Madi again, her face is soft and warm. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I didn’t mean to push you too hard,” she apologizes profusely.

Tucking a stray curl behind my ear, I shake out the spiral of anxiety in my head. “It’s fine, can we change the subject?” I plead with the table.

Madi claps her hands in excitement. “Yes, okay!” she cheers. “You know what? Redo gift. Let’s go shopping,” she proposes.

Nodding, a smile starts to creep onto my face. Hours of mindless walking up and down Magnificent Mile is just what I need right now. “Now that, I can get down with,” I point at her with a grin.

Leo chuckles, standing up from the table. “I’ll see you two this weekend, I have some work to do. Happy birthday, Miggy. I’ll give them my card on my way out,” he bids us goodbye.

Madi waves at her ex-lover. “Bye Leo,” she flirts.

Giggling, I shake my head at her antics. Eventually, they’ll end up together. “You’re the best,” I thank him.

Leo turns around, shooting me a wink. “Anytime, darlin’,” he mocks Joel.

Madi’s hand slaps to her chest and she fakes retching as he walks away. “Something about him. When Joel does it, it makes my pussy quiver. But when he does it, I want to throw up,” she confesses.

Nodding, I finish the last drink before we can say goodbye to this restaurant for the day. “Ditto,” I sigh, grabbing my purse from the back of my chair.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

part 2

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quickaustinlimo8 · 9 months

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austinlimousines · 2 years

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Black car service in AUSTIN

Having an Black car service in AUSTIN will give you a lot of good advantages when you travel to and from the airport. Two of the best advantages that you can enjoy from this are the fact that it's very relaxing and it will help you to save money. Going to and from the airport is quite a hard thing to do.

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blurredcolour · 2 years

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If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part One

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: Your assignment as Austin Butler’s bodyguard, masquerading as his personal assistant, begins after your boss’s successful pitch in Palm Springs.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Threatening letters, Discussion of death threats, Firearms, Language, Vaping, Alcohol consumption, Body image issues, Rating – T.

Author’s note: As stated on the series page, Austin Butler has an unnamed model girlfriend in this series. She is not based on anyone in particular, please do not interpret my descriptions of her and her actions as commentary on any real individuals in Austin Butler��s life.

Word Count: 4428

“…You think you were so very clever, you filthy satanist. That you got away with it. You should have let the dead stay at peace! God knows! God has seen you for what you truly are! A witch! A warlock! A necramanzer raiser of the dead. There is a special spot in hell reserved just for you, Austin Butler, and it is my god given, heavenly ordained duty to see you there right quick...”

You set the photocopied sheets down on your lap, knowing the letter continued on in the same vein for several aggressively written pages. The author had pressed the pen so hard into the paper that the letters made shadow-filled hollows and curled the pages. Hatred had been scribed into the very fibres of the looseleaf before being crammed into an envelope and sent to an actor you, like most of the world, had only a nascent awareness of.

The car took a tight corner, pressing you up against the muscled form of your colleague Marwan, and you quickly straightened with an apology.

“Don’t worry about it, but why are you bothering with those letters again?” He gestured to the black and white photocopies in your lap.

You shook your head with a sigh.

“I... some notion that they might help me to know them if I ever see them out in a crowd somewhere?” Your shoulders rose and fell beneath your simple navy blazer, a knee-length dress with an A-line skirt in a matching shade beneath.

“But we don’t even have the job yet…” Argued Trey from your other side and you huffed out a self-deprecating laugh because it was true, you were absolutely over preparing for a proposal.

“Don’t you dare go jinxing this for me, Treyvon.” The owner and operator of Lane Protective Services, Scott Lane, quickly rejoined from the front seat.

You smirked and elbowed Trey in the ribs for getting him started again. It had been a very long drive from Los Angeles to Palm Springs. While only two hours in time, it had stretched into weeks in experience the longer Scott expounded on the business theories he ascribed to. He had finally trailed off about fifteen minutes ago but was once again feeling the need to mount his soap box.

“Terrible as it is that this is happening, award season is the perfect time for us to work for one of the hottest actors for the year. The public at large will have no idea, but those who know, will know. Free advertising. More work than we can handle, that is what I can only dream of…”

You did your best to tune him out, feigning interest in the threatening letters before you once more. It wasn’t that Scott was a bad person, he was just a little blunt and monetarily focused. The rest of you, Ari the driver included, were in the business to help people. You had each acquired a unique set of skills through your life experiences that lent themselves well to standing between notable people and the threats against them.

You had grown up in a rural area, raised by a hunting family, giving you a familiarity and confidence with firearms. In the same vein, you had also been a highly energetic child and an early encounter with the sport of judo had proven to be a useful outlet for you. You were also born with an innate talent for it and had progressed quickly to the competitive level. There were serious discussions about pursuing Olympic level training, but you had seen what that had cost the professional athletes.

And so, when Scott had appeared at one of your college tournaments with a business card and an interesting proposition you had made the decision to get into personal protection. Lane Protective Services had guided you through the training and licensing processes, and this would, if Mr. Butler’s team accepted the proposal, be your fourth assignment with the company.

To everyone’s relief, Ari pulled into the parking lot of the hotel where the potential protectee was staying for a weekend of events, and where time necessitated Scott would be delivering the proposal. Trey slid out and held the door for you to follow him, and you stepped out into the sun with a grateful stretch. Sharing a backseat with two well-built men for two hours had been snug. You grabbed your bag from the trunk and followed the group up to the room Scott had optimistically rented for two nights.

It was his hope that you and Ari would be staying to immediately begin accompanying and driving Mr. Butler while Marwan and Trey returned to his home to begin setting up the protection detail headquarters and sleeping space in the guesthouse. After one final inspection of the group’s business casual attire, Scott led you back to the elevator and up a few floors to where the suites were located. His knock on the door was answered by a redheaded woman you recognized from the briefing file as Mr. Butler’s Manager and Publicist Kate Rosen.

The group was ushered in, and Scott set up his slide deck on his laptop, giving you the proposal booklets to hand out. You swallowed back your sigh at the fact that he was delegating that to you, the only woman in the group, and you passed one to Kate. You glanced to see if Mr. Butler had joined you just as he stepped over the threshold from the bedroom into the sitting room. You had worked with celebrities before. Breathed the same air as many of them before. But the tall, long-limbed, tanned man in a suit and white button up, with maybe half of the buttons fastened, who appeared before you still selfishly stole all the oxygen from your lungs.

Silently, you waited until he had assumed the empty chair beside Kate before offering the booklet to him and going to stand beside Ari. Ari who had shot you a look with both eyebrows raised that you deliberately ignored. Turning your attention to Scott as he began to speak allowed you to breathe again. You listened patiently to the well rehearsed presentation which centered on you acting as Mr. Butler’s personal assistant for as long as it took the various law enforcement organizations involved in the investigation of the threatening letters to resolve the issue.

“She has a 7th-dan black belt in judo, is fully trained in close quarter fighting as well as tactical firearms, and has a multi-state, non-resident concealed carry permit.” Your eyes drifted to your shoes as Scott reached your list of selling points, finding it all-together awkward to be summed up by your achievements.

“Wait…are you armed right now?” A soft, resonant voice that tasted like honied whiskey interrupted Scott’s litany of your achievements and you raised your head to look at the man who had posed the question.

“Yes Mr. Butler.” You nodded politely.

You watched as he tilted his head, looking over your outfit. “But where?”

“A better question, Austin, would be why are we putting the smallest person in the room beside you the most? I recognize your argument about the optics and definitely want to keep this whole sordid thing out of the gossip columns but, what if the person threatening Austin is huge like one of these men? Are we not looking for overwhelming force?”

“An excellent question Ms. Rosen.” Scott looked to you and nodded. “Full force takedown of Trey please.” There was hint of glee in his voice, and you knew you were a device to provide payback for his earlier doubt of the success of this pitch.

Nodding once, you undid the button on your blazer, walking up to Trey before feinting at him. His response was to lunge forward, and you used his momentum against him, throwing him to the carpet in a perfected judo toss. You pulled your pocket pistol from its holster on your inner thigh, pressing it against the back of his head.

“Oh.” Came a quiet sound of realization from Austin as you answered his earlier question.

“Well then…” Kate cleared her throat and nodded.

You quickly holstered your firearm, having never released the safety, and helped the larger man back to his feet. Straightening your dress, you went to stand beside Ari quietly, once again looking at your shoes.

“Shall I proceed?” Scott asked cheerfully and continued his pitch after a few stunned nods.

He laid out the rest of the plan to have Ari take over as Austin’s driver and for Trey and Marwan to ensure security of the house and be on protective duty overnight. As Scott wrapped up, hands were shaken and your group headed back down to the room to wait, passing what looked like a football team in the hallway. Surely the next pitch. Scott’s idea was unique, you just weren’t sure if it was what they were looking for.

The wait was not long. Forty-five minutes later Scott got the call, confirming the contract. The group headed back up to finalize the paperwork, and you noticed that Austin seemed a lot more relaxed in the presence of Baz Luhrmann and his partner Catherine. It could also have been the glass of whiskey on the rocks gripped loosely in one hand, or the vape pen dangling from the fingers of his other. All they did for you was provide a distraction by pulling your focus to his plush pink lips as they took in the glowing amber liquid or exhaled plumes of sweet smelling vapour.

Hands were shaken again before Kate gave the keys to Austin’s house to Trey and he left along with Scott and Marwan in a rental car to make preparations. Ari went to have the town car the five of you had driven out in cleaned for the award ceremony that night and that left you to build a relationship with protectee. It would be crucial to keep him safe over the next while.

“If you’ll be my bodyguard, I can be your long-lost pal…” Baz sang in your direction, making you smile softly – after all, as far as most people would know you were a personal assistant, and stoicism would not suit that appearance at all.

“I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me, you can call me Al!” Austin joined in, making you swallow thickly at the smooth, caramel quality of his voice.

“Baz, pleasure to meet you.” The world-famous directly shook your hand warmly as you introduced yourself in turn.

“No, no” Austin punctuated his statement with playful jabs of his vape pen and you finally became aware of the fact that he had button his shirt up the rest of the way and put on a tie. What a shame.

“I think that’s perfect. Betty. My personal assistant Betty.” He finished with a grin.

“Certainly, Mr. Butler, Betty is an acceptable cover name. Thank you.” You nodded.

“But you gotta call me Al, then.” He playfully pouted a little and you pressed your lips together to prevent too wide of a grin.

“I’m sorry Mr. Butler, I am not able to do that.”

“She can throw me across the room, but she can’t call me Al.” He teased, earning a chorus of laughter from Baz and Catherine.

Kate pulled you aside and took you through his schedule for the next few days – awards ceremony to start in two hours, after party, followed by brunch the next morning and then back to LA for a cocktail event.

“We’ll get you set up with the full thing later but for now, carry mine. Here’s the bag I use. He cannot walk the red carpet with his personal effects, they have a terrible habit of getting lost in all the hugging and interviews. I’ll have you carry them too, unless that interferes?” She looked to you with a tilt of her head, and you shook yours in response.

“Not at all, Ms. Rosen, I just might have to drop the bag during an incident.”

“Right ok…well I’ll pick it up then. That’ll be my thing during an incident.” She cleared her throat. “Scott said you would have a wardrobe? This looks good, blazers, dresses…if we go to the Oscars, they’ll want you in a gown but the rest this or a pant suit will do.” She nodded.

“I will call our wardrobe specialist when we get back in town day after tomorrow.” You nodded and she smiled in relief.

“Good…and you’ll keep him safe?” She looked into your eyes seriously.

“Yes ma’am, that is why I am here.” You replied earnestly.

“Good.” She beamed and bustled off to try and round up the trio who needed to get going.

As they finally made their way towards the door, you strode quickly forward.

“I will have to go first, is that all right?” You asked, quickly wedging yourself between Austin and the door as he reached for the handle.

“Oh uh, yeah, of course…” He nodded, pulling his outstretched hand back to rub the nape of his neck.

You offered a small smile and lowered your voice so that only he could hear.

“We’ll get better at this, Mr. Butler.” You nodded softly, smile widening as his stunning blue eyes met yours and crinkled at the corners.

“Yes, we will, Betty. Yes, we will.” He nodded warmly and gestured for you to proceed.

You nodded warmly and opened the door, doing a quick scan of the hall before stepping out, letting Kate hold the door and bring up the rear. Two town cars waited at the curb, and you led Austin over to where Ari stood holding the door open.

“I’ll sit up front.” You nodded to Kate and Austin, making sure they got into the back before sliding in beside Ari.

It felt somewhat silly to drive just two blocks over to the Palm Springs Convention Centre, but it was the ‘done thing’ and safer regardless. On the ride over, Kate gave you a crash course in how to be an assistant on a red carpet. Climbing out first, you surveyed the area as you moved to open Austin’s door before holding the bag open for him to hand over his personal effects. He smiled and squeezed your shoulder, and you could not help but notice the slight tremor in his hand.

“You’re going to do great, Betty.” He murmured and you nodded softly.

“You, too, Mr. Butler.” You tucked the bag on your arm before leading him up to the entrance to the red carpet and there your paths diverged.

You kept pace with him behind the row of reporters, noting the quickest path to him every few feet you moved towards the door of the building. You were reassured that Kate was permitted to be right up there with him and nodded to her every time her eyes sought yours. You barely knew the pair of them, but you could already tell they had a deep bond.

Inside the lobby, Austin retrieved his wallet, vape pen, and phone from your bag before heading inside to be seated. Kate spoke to one of the organizers who found you a space along the back of the room to stand, with a fairly good view of Austin. It was not ideal, and you would have a conversation with her about future ceremonies, but it would have to do for now.

A few hours in, however, you were starting to regret the heels. You would have a conversation with Shyla, the wardrobe specialist, about flats. Once Austin received his award, Kate came to lead you on a rather circuitous route to the press room where he and Baz were being hailed with camera flashes and questions from the assembled reporters. The two men were so very charismatic that it was tempting to allow them to distract you, but you found the professional fortitude to focus on the room, assess the threat, find the person who could not spell ‘necromancer.’

Once you were satisfied that individual was mostly likely not in that room, you were able to relax into a watchful patience. There was an afterparty before the very tipsy pair of men were herded back to the hotel. You made sure that Austin was safely in his room before retiring to the room you shared with Ari.

You used the steamer from the closet to smooth the wrinkles from your light gray dress and blazer from your bag to be ready for the brunch tomorrow. Locking your gun in the safe, you were nearly asleep by the time Ari returned from securing the car for the night.

Arriving at Austin’s suite at nine am, you sat down with Kate to go over the schedule.

“So, the hardest part for me was the separation during the ceremony. I am aware that it’s impossible for me to get tickets but is the back of the room really the best we have?” You asked carefully.

“Would it reassure you to know how difficult it is to get inside these things? Especially the rest of the ceremonies moving forward…Nonetheless I will see what I can do. Maybe you can have my spot for the ceremonies as long as I can remain nearby for the press moments. Stay tuned, ok?” She offered and you nodded.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“Oh no, call the authorities, what are you two conspiring about…” Austin rasped from the doorway behind you, making both of you turn to look at him.

You swallowed roughly as your eyes landed on his loosely tied robe, barely concealing his tanned skin with only his boxers underneath. The morning light glinted off the chain around his neck, highlighting the soft, golden dusting of hair across his chest.

“Good morning, Mr. Butler.” You said quickly and looked back to the schedule. “Thank you very much Ms. Rosen.”

“Austin, get dressed before you kill Betty. Brunch starts at eleven and I’m assuming you want some coffee?” Kate stood as Austin nodded. “Betty what’s your order, I’m going to Starbucks for the good stuff. We’ll send you in the future, I suppose, but you should get to know that boy…maybe you can teach him how to button his shirt.” She smirked and you bit your lip to hide your delight at her jibes.

Once she was armed with a full Starbucks order, Kate headed out, the door clicking softly in the silence in her wake. You turned back to the schedule in front of you, drafting an email in your phone for items you would need from both Shyla and IT. You looked up as the door to the bedroom opened again to reveal a fully dressed Austin.

“Better?” He drawled with a smirk, and you let out a short huff of laughter despite yourself.

“Yes, Mr. Butler.” You grinned and watched as he settled into a wide-legged seat on the couch.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked, his long fingers stroking along his jaw, momentarily distracting you from his words before you managed a nod.

“Of course.” You replied as you moved to sit on the plush chair to his left, tucking the skirt of your dress underneath your butt before sinking into the cushion.

“Why does this person wanna kill me?” The voice asking that question seemed to come from someone much smaller and much younger than the man sitting beside you and you felt your throat clench.

“Well, I…I won’t claim to have any expertise in behavioural science, but it very much seems like an unstable person who has decided to fixate on your achievement.” You replied carefully, smoothing and pulling at the hem of your dress.

He exhaled slowly in response.

“They think I…summoned him from the dead or something?” He shook his head. “Makes me sad…”

“As far as I understand the police are making headway in the investigation. Hopefully, this won’t go on much longer and everyone can move on with their lives. And they can get the help they need.”

He nodded thoughtfully, those elegant digits of his moving to trace the contours of his lips.

“So where are you from, Betty? I want to get to know you…”

You smiled softly and happily indulged him, answering questions about yourself and posing them back to him in return. You were so ensconced in the conversation, that Kate’s return startled you a little. You accepted your beverage gratefully and retreated to the table as she moved in to go over his schedule with him for the day, which ended with the W Magazine & Louis Vuitton awards season dinner.

“So, we need to be in the car driving back to you house by three, ideally, to give you time to get changed and get you and your girlfriend loaded into the car and onto the next event.”

“Understood.” He acquiesced with an innocent smile, and you had a sneaking suspicion that time was an ongoing issue.

Over the course of the brunch, it became quite apparent why as, though gentle and soft spoken, Austin was also kind and affectionate and seemed to thoroughly enjoy connecting with people. He was also very much in demand at the event, with so much buzz around him that people were lingering in informal queues to get a chance to just shake his hand and congratulate him on the movie. You could only surmise it made the threats even more bitter as they tainted such remarkable success.

The four of you, with Ari behind the wheel, were not driving back to Los Angeles until four-thirty and Austin was frantically texting his girlfriend with apologies while Kate was on the phone making sure everything was set for an upcoming appearance on Jimmy Kimmel. You took the opportunity to have a small nap in the front seat, confident that Ari had the situation under control and equally confident that it would be a long night.

As Austin dashed inside to get ready, Kate grabbed her car and headed home, and you went to deposit your bags in the guest house you’d be sharing in rotation with Marwan, Trey, and Ari. There was a living room with pullout couch, small kitchen, bedroom, and a simple bathroom. You found a place to hang your clothes and stash the rest of your things, freshening up and eating something quickly before you and Ari headed out to wait for the couple.

And what a couple they made. Both equally tall and thin, strikingly beautiful, youthful…you swallowed the bitter taste of envy that flooded your mouth and smiled warmly to Austin’s girlfriend as he brought her over to make introductions.

“Very nice to meet you, miss.” You nodded professionally as you shook her delicate hand and tried not to take it personally as she barely looked at you before hugging Austin’s arm.

The lithe, long lines of her arm only served to make you acutely aware of every bulge and ripple of muscle beneath your clothes. With mere proximity she reignited every insecurity you had ever felt about the body that diligent judo practice had built. You were Hulk Hogan in a dress.

“We gotta get going, babe.” She reminded him and Ari moved forward quickly to open the car door for them to climb in, blessedly yanking you out of your descent into middle school angst.

During the drive to the dinner party, you respectfully kept your eyes forward and your ears closed to the hushed, intimate tones of conversation in the backseat, punctuated by husky laughter or feminine giggles. Accidental, unintentional glances in the rear-view mirror told you they were huddled together, heads bowed close, hands clasped. A stunning pair of human specimens that, for the first time in your career, left you feeling utterly out of place.

You were grateful for the quiet intimacy of the dinner, the bench at the back of the dinning room for you to wait, the low security risk. You found excuses to go over and check on Austin, but otherwise scanned the room and kept an eye on things from a distance.

Not only were they a beautiful couple but they were a favourite as well, with many of the other guests stopping by or rotating through the chairs near them once the formality of the courses broke and mingling resumed. A glance at your watch told you it was well past midnight, and you praised the foresight that had led to your nap in the car. Nevertheless, relief flooded you as Austin sauntered over to let you know you’d be heading home as soon as his girlfriend returned from the washroom.

“You must be starving!” He exclaimed softly, suddenly casting his eyes around for something to satiate hunger he thought he perceived in you.

“It’s all right Mr. Butler, I had something to eat while you were getting ready.” You reassured him and found yourself briefly blinded by the brilliant intensity of his smile loosened by alcohol.

“Oh good, can’t have you dying on the first day, Betty.” He smirked and elbowed you in the arm playfully, causing a chuckle to tumble from your lips.

“Second, technically…” You smirked but trailed off as you watched his statuesque girlfriend, with her rich hair and striking eyes reclaim control of his arm.

You saw a veil fall over his eyes…creating an invisible barrier between you as she drew his focus like a high-powered magnet. As though you simply ceased to exist in that moment. In her presence. Turning sharply on your heel, you began to weave your way out of the dining room, only glancing back to be sure they were keeping pace.

The consummate professional, you saw them safely to the car and into the house before going to take a shower and sitting on the small patio outside the guest house to eat some pizza the night shift had bought. The rustle of the Santa Ana winds through the palm fronds above worked its magic, capturing the tension in your body and carrying it away towards the Pacific Ocean. At last, you felt ready to retire for the night.

Standing to make your way inside for some proper sleep, a very distinct and enthusiastic female cry reached your ears from the main house. It only served to hasten your steps and you sent an earnest prayer out into the universe that the unstable letter writer was found sooner rather than later. Because this was going to be a very trying assignment.

Read Part Two

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #blurredcolour

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mountainsandmayhem · 1 year

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Blueprints of Love 1.4

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: Whitney is an architect for a luxury home builder in downtown Austin. She probably shouldn’t have favourite subcontractors but Tommy from Millers Contracting would be at the top. When Tommy has to take some time off to welcome a new baby, Whit has to work with his older brother Joel, but maybe it’s not as bad as it first seems?

a/n: slooooooow burn. Check each chapter for warnings. No outbreak. Joel is 32 and Sarah is 7. Present day, not 2003. And when you get to the bedroom door lean, this gif is EXACTLY what I mean 🥵

Warnings: ⛔️ 18+ only ⛔️, kissing, talk of divorce and abandonment, slight dirty talk, flirting, touching

It’s a pool party, so a swimsuit under Jean shorts and a tank top should be appropriate.

But Joel would be there and….

The black bikini has too much side boob, the yellow bikini shows too much ass.

Finally settling on a pink tie up bikini,that covers everything appropriately, just as Anna arrives. An open bar was mentioned twice in their invite from Tommy, so they decide to Uber together. Their car parks outside of what they assume to be Tommy and Maria’s house and they both comment on how nice it is; an updated split level in an older neighbourhood, big beautiful trees lining the streets. They go in the gate to the backyard, as per the sign on the front door.

“Well,” Anna whispers. “We know no body.”

Tommy waves from across the backyard and jogs over. He grabs the gifts from both their arms, “thank you so much for coming! You didn’t need to bring gifts. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

If one thing was true, it was that the Miller genes were STRONG. They met male cousins who were all equally as handsome as Tommy and Joel, and the female cousins were intimately gorgeous. Whit tried to focus on the introductions but she couldn’t help looking for Joel; and when she found him a small “fuck me” escapes her throat.

He’s sitting spread eagle on a pool lounger with 3 little girls around him, holding the guest of honour, Daisy. One of the girls stands beside him with her arm around his neck while the other two are on the lounger, all looking down at the baby. This was a whole different Joel. Soft and supple. He smiles and talks with the girls before he kisses the one standing beside him on the head. Whit looks back to group as they go flying past Whit and into the house.

“Last one in is a rotten egg.” One says.

“No fair, Sarah! You got a head start!” The other two cry out in protest.

Joel never takes his eyes off the baby, bouncing her gently.

- -

“Stop looking at him.” Anna whispers as you both head back over the self service bar. It’s been well over an hour of the two of you talking with the Miller family. Joel hasn’t put Daisy down as watches the girls jump around in the pool.

“I swear my uterus is trying to find a way to evict my IUD, Anna.” Whit says, making her Gin and Tonic a double. “I don’t see any water at this bar….and this gin is going to make me do something drastic.”

Anna had hit it off with Austin, an incredibly charming cousin that Tommy knew Anna would like. “Come sit by the pool with me and Austin from Austin.” She laughs, “Maybe he’ll take his eye off Daisy once he sees you in that bikini.”

Even thought she knew this was a pool party, her whole body shivers at the thought of Joel seeing her almost naked, “I’m going to go to the bathroom and find a way to fill my water bottle first. Take my drink?” Anna bounces off to sit with Austin by the pool as Whit heads for the back door of the house.

Once she’s in the house she spots the half bath on the landing, she also notices 2 small sets of stairs; one that goes up to the kitchen and another that leads to the basement. Whit locks the bathroom door and makes sure everything is tucked in properly, last thing she needs is a nip slip at a baby shower. After washing her hands she looks up the few stairs from the back landing that leads into the kitchen.

“Tommy?” Whit calls as she slowly heads up the stairs.

Great…no answer. Tommy won’t mind if I just get water.

Just as she steps into the kitchen, Joel comes out from the hall in just swim trunks.

“What are you doing?” He demands, his abs flexing with every word.

“S-shit. I was just going to fill my water bottle. I didn’t think Tommy would mind.” She’s holding the water bottle up while wiggling it from side to side like it’ll make this situation less awkward. Her eyes shoot to the ceiling to avoid ogling his body.

He grabs it out of her hand and stalks to the fridge. That’s when she notices the pictures of the little girl that had her arm around Joel all over the fridge.

Holy fuck, this is Joel’s house and I think that’s his daughter.

“S-sorry,” Whit stammers. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I assumed this was Tommy’s house and him and I have a different -“ she knows she’s about to start rambling but she can’t seem to stop.

Luckily, Joel cuts her off with an “s’fine” as he thrusts the water bottle back in her hand, their fingers briefly touch and Joel’s brain screams at his stubborn and guarded heart.

Just let your damn walls down with her, what the fuck.

They stare at each other for a moment before Joel softens his features. “Really, it’s fine. You startled me.”

They smiled at each other before he continues. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure it means a lot of Tommy and Maria. However, I have 3 little 7 year olds who I promised I would rocket launch before they leave.”

Before she’s even fully outside she’s pushed back in by Nat; if there is a female version of Joel, it’s his cousin Nat. She was tall and muscular, in a sporty and feminine way, she had long curly black hair, sun kissed skin and those signature Miller eyes; deep chocolate brown. To add insult to injury, she might be nicest person Whit has ever met. During their conversation earlier she was kind and insightful. Asking her all sorts of questions and sincerely listening to her answers.

“Whitney. Can I talk to you for a second?” She whispered.

“Sure.” Whitney realized her response came across as a question so she quickly followed it up with an “of course.” Nat stood on front of her, oozing an almost intimidating level of confidence.

“About Joel…” she starts.

“Oh god. He hates me, doesn’t he?”

“If he hated you; you wouldn’t be here.” She says flatly.

Whit raises an eyebrow in response.

“I was born 4 days after Joel. We have always been best friends. The last few years Joel has been very black and white. You’re either in or out. No in between, and almost everyone gets the latter of the two.”

Whitney nods, unsure where this is going but could do a little dance knowing Joel doesn’t hate her.

“Between me and you, he seems to have an in between with you, and I think that scares him. I’ve caught him staring at you a lot today, but when I asked him about you...” Nat bunches her eyebrows together and crosses her arms to do her best grumpy Joel impression, “drop it Natalie.”

Whit can feel herself blushing as she laughs a little at the almost spot on job Nat does of her cousin.

“Look,” she’s speaking just above a whisper at this point. “All I’m saying is to be patient with him. He never lets people in anymore, but when he does - he’s the most loyal and trustworthy person to have in your corner.”

Nat heads back out to the party with a wink, leaving Whitney all sorts of confused.

Joel might have kid, he apparently keeps looking at me, and I should be patient.

Her feet take her to Anna, plopping down on the same lounger as her and pulling her in. “So this is Joel’s house, not Tommy’s. And I’m pretty sure the little girl in the purple swimsuit is his daughter.”

Anna goes to respond before she’s cut off. “But that’s not it. Nat just told me that Joel has ‘in between’ with me.”

“I’m gonna need an explanation.” Anna says.

A splash of water hits both of them, interrupting their gossip session. Austin is perched on the edge of the pool looking at them while Joel tosses the girls around like they’re made of paper. Granted they’re 7, but he never seemed to tire as those girls keep coming back for more.

“What?” Anna giggles, batting her lashes.

“Those girls just got a 5 minute warning from Nat. You two are next.”

“You can’t catch us both.” Whitney taunts.

“Watch me.” He flicks more water at the 2 of them.

Whitney doesn’t make it a habit to brag about her accomplishments, but she’s not about to let this man she just met think he has an advantage over her. “I’ll be watching you fail. I went to university IN ENGLAD on a partial rugby scholarship. There’s no way you’re taking me down, little man.”

Joel turns his head slightly to make sure he’s hearing this correctly.

Whitney? Playing rugby?

“Alright,” Austin counters. “I’ll get Joel to take you then.”

Joel and Whit lock eyes, neither of them will let their guards down to do anything, but god they wished they could be that close to one another. Heat spreads through Joel’s body as he pictures wrapping hands around the soft skin of her waist, laughing with her as she would try, and most likely fail to fight him off. Meanwhile, goosebumps erupt over Whitney’s skin as she imagines how the cords of his muscles that line his body would feel under her as she wrapped her strong legs around his waist, refusing to let go as he attempts to throw her in.

Luckily, they’re both saved by Maria and Daisy. Whitney eats up the baby cuddles as Maria apologizes for the rowdy Miller clan. As the baby changes arms to Anna, Whit finds herself searching for Joel again. She finds him down on one knee, wrapping that same little girl in a towel before dramatically throwing her over his shoulder and taking her into the house. Her little feet kicking as they laugh together.

“Earth to Whitney?!” Tommy says robotically, waving her hands around.

“Huh? W-what?”

When did Tommy walk over? How much of this conversation did I miss.

Her cheeks flush as Tommy looks at her with one eyebrow raised up. Another one bites the dust, he thinks to himself.

“Burger or hot dog, for the 4th time!” He laughs.

“Tommy you know communal food freaks me out!” She says, trying to sound incredibly spoiled.

“I’m sure Joel will let you sneak into his kitchen before anyone else touches the food. I’m making both of you burgers.”

Those 3 little girls come running out of the house, yelling good bye to everyone as they head towards Maria.

“Bye, auntie Maria!”, a big bear hug between her and these 3 little ones breaks out.

The 3 girls hug Whit next even though they have no idea who she is. If one thing is clear, it’s that the Millers might be loud, but no one loves bigger or harder.

Nat jogs over while Whitney collects her hugs, “lord help me for agreeing to take all 3 of these girls for the night! Joel was just giving them handfuls of gummy frogs.”

Soft Joel is killing me today.

Nat and her husband corral the girls like bouncy balls as they leave for the night and Tommy waves Whit over, signalling it’s time for her secret sneak into the house.

Joel is standing in his kitchen, and much to Whitney’s dismay, he’s put a linen button down shirt. He still has his swim trunks on and his wet curls slicked back.

“Heard you have a thing about communal food.” A small smirk appears on his face.

“I just had some bad experiences in college with shared food, so I avoid it.” She laughs.

“Mhmm, well, help yourself princess.” He says when a little bow.

“Hey,” she laughs, “if everyone could just be like me….”

“Lord help us all.” He lets out a laugh, the same sing-song laugh he had back in her office with Anna.

“Mr Miller, did you just make a joke?”

“S’Joel, sweetheart,” he says, handing her a paper plate.

Princess. Sweetheart. God dammit.

Whit feels herself blushing and immediately busies herself with the task at hand. Joel saunters around to her side of the island, opens the fridge and cracks his beer. He leans on the counter across from her sweeping his eyes down her body.

Her hair is up in a loose bun with a few strawberry blonde curls dangling around her neck, where he notices a small tattoo along her hairline.

What I wouldn’t give to kiss that little triangle tattoo.

His eyes sweep down her see through white tank top, the ties of her pink bikini peeking out. Her Jean shorts cover her round cheeks, and Joel has to stop himself from thinking about how small the bikini bottoms must be to not be poking out. He continues to sweep down her strong thighs and toned calf’s.

Fuck she has great legs.

Whitney is looks over her shoulder at him just as his eyes sweep to her toes, painted the same colour as her bikini.

“You ok over there?” She asks, shifting her weight to one foot, popping her hip out towards Joel. She’s not dumb, she knows he was checking her out. His eyes dart up to meet hers.

Don’t look down.

“No. I’m hungry and someone s’taking her time.”

“Who?!” She says in sarcastic shock.

“Miss Whitney,” he says in a mocking tone, “did you just make a joke?”

“You can’t just steal my bit, Mr Miller.”

“I didn’t, I don’t know your last name.”

She looks back down at her plate. “It’s Willis, unless you’re my college degree.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“No time,” she turns to face him. “Someone is apparently starving.”

Joel takes one step to be face to face with her, their front almost touching. He brushes past her right side, reaching behind her for the salad bowl.

“Miss Willis…” he whispers into her ear before shifting to brush past her left side to grab the potato salad. “I always have time for you.”

He straightens out again, sends Whit a devastating wink and heads outside.

Holy. Shit. It just got really hot in here. Thank god I’m leaning on this counter top or I would have fallen over.

- -

After they eat, the early evening sun prompts Whit to remove her tank top and unbutton her shorts, folding them open the waistband, as she lays beside the pool talking with Anna and Austin.

Her exposed skin catches Joel’s attention. “Double gin and tonic,” Maria says quietly to Joel. “Don’t be a dick. Go talk to her. I’ll deal with Tommy telling you she’s off limits.”

“I ain’t gonna do that, Maria.” Joel says as he heads inside to clean up.

As the sun begins to set, the Miller clan invite the girls to stay.

“Stay and play cards. Later we’re having a fire.” Tommy says, “I’m sick of always beating the same people!”

Whit already knows that Anna and Austin have other plans, probably of the naked variety, and the scarcity of Joel has her feeling like she’s about to overstay her welcome, so she heads out front and calls an Uber.

“Whitney?” Joel calls from the front door.

“Hey, sorry, I couldn’t find you to say goodbye.” Whit rubs her arms in the chilled night air. “Thank you for having me.”

Joel will never have this chance again and he’s kicking himself for not gluing himself to her the second Sarah left. He can see that she’s freezing as he steps towards her.

“I - umm,” he plunges his hands into his front pockets.

Is Joel Miller nervous?

“I w-was hoping you’d stay?” His cheeks flush a little, he’s definitely nervous.

“Anna left, it feels like a family thing now.” Whit is freezing, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. “And I didn’t bring a jacket or anything.”

“I have sweaters,” he says softly. “Please stay?”

If she leaves I’m never going to recover from embarrassment.

Fuck, he looks so good right now with his big soft eyes. And what I wouldn’t give to be wrapped in one of his sweaters.

A small “ok” comes out of Whits mouth as she holds up her phone, displaying the cancelled Uber ride.

“Come on, you’re freezing.” Joel places his hand on the middle of her back and leads her through the front door.

- -

“Here.” Joel holds open a green button up flannel. As she stands in the doorway of his bedroom.

He clears his throat as she spins and slips her arms into the ridiculously oversized shirt. “So, gonna finish that story about your last names?”

Joel is right behind her, pulling the flannel up her body. The smell of cedar and leather hits Whits nose as turns her head slightly looking him over her shoulder. “Short story, I was married and now I’m not.”

“No chance.” He laughs. “I want the real story.”

Whit spins around and leans her hip on the door frame. “I’ll give you the condensed long story if you promise to answer a question for me.”

Joel puts his hand on the doorframe by her head and leans in. Whit looks up at him with eager eyes, trying not to look at his plush bottom lip. “What’s the question, Willis?”

Her cheeks flush but doesn’t break eye contact. “Nope. Blind trust, Miller.”

He rolls his eyes and pokes his tongue inside his cheek to fight a smile. Whitney’s stomach muscles clench at how handsome he looks when he pretends to be irritated.

“Yes or no?” She whispered, reaching up to fix the collar on his linen shirt. This time she can’t help but look at mouth, wetting her lips a little before looking back at those gorgeous eyes.

Fear of letting anyone in gets the best of him. “No.” He replies, “let’s go outside.”

“Ok.” She spins on her tippy toes and heads down the hallway. Joel follows, noticing how his flannel is so long that it looks like she’s wearing nothing underneath.

He groans as they reach the kitchen. “Ok, yes. Fine.” When she spins to face him she has a big beautiful smile on her face and Joel comes to the crushing realization that he’ll do anything to see her smile like that forever. “You win.”

She hops up to sit on the counter, wrapping the flannel around herself and bites her bottom lip to try to stop her grin.

“If I win, Miller…” she says mischievously, “that means you lose. You know that right?”

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, popping out one knee and placing his other hand on his hip. “You’ll be the death of me, Whitney Willis.” When he makes eye contact with her again she’s straight faced and pulling her hands into the long sleeves of his shirt.

I’m really going to bare my soul here. Shit.

“Ok…” she takes a big breath. “We were young, fresh out of high school, and we were in love.” Her eyes jolt away from Joel’s, focusing on her knees, “I was moving to England for university while he stayed here, so like all logical 18 year olds, we got married.”

Joel took a big step towards Whit, standing close enough that she could feel his heat radiating on her bare legs. “We made it work despite the ocean separating us. He came to me when he could, I couldn’t come to him because of rugby. But I was incredibly happy, everyone around us was supportive. I was going to have the perfect life.”

Whit felt like she had razor blades in her throat. Joel wants to reach out and touch her. Just a gentle rub on her arm so she knows it’s ok.

I’m here for you.

Her eyes flick up to Joel’s, who is looking at her softly, before darting back to her knees. “After graduation I landed an internship in New York, it would have lead me to my dream firm…And he was going to Columbia for med school. Last minute he changed to Baylor and I changed all my plans. I found this job and it started right away, so I flew straight here from England and started laying down roots to really build our lives together.”

Whit looked so sad and it was eating Joel up. She hadn’t looked up from her knees so he stepped right up to her, his hips pressing into her knees. She finally looked up, opening her legs slightly and grabbing the hem of his shirt with one hand.

Puppy eyes. Warm, chocolate brown puppy eyes.

“First day at this job he called me to ask for a divorce and said he wasn’t coming to Texas.”

“Whit,” Joel says softly as he places a hand on her soft thigh. “I’ll kill him. Just give me his name.”

Whit can’t help but breakout into laughter, resting her hand on top of his. “It’s really ok. It lead me here.” She stammers, “I m-mean, like, in Texas. At this job.”

Joel stares at her for a few seconds until she smiles at him. “Ok,” he says. “My turn I guess - what’s your question, Whitney?”

Whitney clears her throat. She’s not sure why she’s nervous about this. She just told a man she barely knows that she was ditched by her husband.

“Was one of those girls today your daughter?”

Joel clenches his back molars together, causing a vein in his neck popping out. The hand on Whits thigh moves as he crosses his arms in front of him.

Those goddamn biceps again.

She can’t help it, like a moth to a flame she reaches up to grab his arm, her other hand still holding the hem of his shirt. “Joel, you don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t cross lines of work and personal, Whitney. I know Tommy tells you about his life, but I’m not like that. I like to keep things separate, mostly for her.”

“So she is your daughter?” Whitney opens her legs a bit more, hoping he’ll inch closer.

“Yes.” He breathes.

“Short story?” She says, dropping her hand from his arm to his side, pulling him in more.

“She’s 7. Her name is Sarah. I am the only parent she has.”

Whit’s mind is turning. She has so many questions, but isn’t going to push Joel. Nat said to be patient, so that’s exactly what she’s going to do. She pulls Joel in all so he flush with the counter, whispering a “thank you” as she slides herself into him.

His large hands come to her waist. “What for?”

Their bodies move closer. “For trusting me with that.” She says.

They’re so close now. If each of them just reached a little bit their noses would graze.

“Stop looking at me like that, Whitney.” He whispers into her lips.

“Looking at you like what?” She replies breathlessly, licking her lips.

His eyes flick down, watching her plush bottom lip dampen with her tongue. “Like you want me to kiss you.”

She smiles a little, reaching her nose towards his. “Would that be so bad?” She says through a shaky exhale.

Joel and Whitney’s lips collide. The kiss starts off hard, like they’re tattooing themselves onto the other. Joel’s hands rub down her body, coaxing her legs to wrap around his waist. Whit parts her lips slightly as a small moan escapes her, that sound is enough encouragement for Joel to push his hips into her harder, slipping his tongue along her bottom lip, nudging her to open her mouth more.

Slowly, they both melt into the kiss, Joel flicks his tongue against hers. She moans again as she tangles her hands into the back of his hair. “Fuck, I love that sound.” He says quickly before sliding his hands under the lower back of her tank top. Her legs lock tighter around him. Both of them have imagined this moment countless times.

Joel’s lips move to her jawline, making a line of wet kisses towards her throat. Whitney moans a quiet “don’t stop” as her fingernails gently scratch at the back of his head.

“JOEL!!!” Tommy yells from the back door. Both of them freeze, not ready to let go. “WE ARE PLAY BULLSHIT, LETS GO!!”

“Fuck me.” Joel groans, bringing his forehead against Whits.

“Better deal in 2!” Whit yells back, winking at Joel.

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