summary. austin and you spend a day at the pool... or something like that.
starring. austin butler x wife!reader
tags & warnings. established marriage, age gap, brat!reader, lovestruck!austin, sexual tension, shameless flirting, humor, romance.
word count. 0.7k
note. in honor of those photos of austin in a pool... he would carry you around in his pocket if he could.
you don't like the sun. you don't like the hot feeling on your skin that puts you in a bad mood, or the pinkish hue your shoulders and cheeks develop when you feel even the slightest warmth. austin says he finds it adorable. but of course, the sun and heat never seem to bother austin at all.
it's baffling.
"there you are." austin smiles when he sees you arrive at the empty pool, walking under every scrap of shade you can find. "i thought you weren't coming."
you don't miss the way he looks at you; his blue eyes scan you from head to toe, and you see him smack his lips like the scoundrel he is when he's alone with you, but this time you ignore it because, when you get to austin, you notice he literally chose the spot where the sun beats down directly.
you look at austin. you look at the sun. you look back at austin.
"couldn't you have found a sunnier spot?"
austin is still reclining on the lounge chair, completely relaxed, as if the sun weren't trying to cook every living thing within a ten-kilometer radius.
"i considered it." he says with complete seriousness. "but the other chairs are occupied."
"there's no one here!" you almost shout, throwing your arms up.
"actually, it was just an excuse to see you in a bikini." he looks at you, tilting his head. "you look really pretty like that."
you narrow your eyes at him. "...how cheeky." you finally say, crossing your arms over your chest.
the sun is scorching your back, and you're about to complain, but then austin gives you that slow smile that always leaves you speechless, and the words die in your throat. you take a moment to look at him; his strong, broad chest, his defined abs, and those arms...
"come here."
you blink. austin has a hand extended toward you.
"i have homework." you lie. not to annoy him, but to make him insist. you like it when he insist.
he stares at you, his lips slightly parted. then he blinks, and his lips curve gently upward before a soft laugh escapes his throat.
"that's not true. you finished it on the plane."
"well, now i have more." you raise an eyebrow. "actually, i think i should go back to palm springs."
austin sighs dramatically, as if you're the one being difficult. honestly, you are, but you both know it's a game. austin really likes playing cat and mouse, anyway.
he sits up, reaches out to you, and before you can protest, pulls you between his legs.
"stop acting like a brat. i'm not kidnapping you." the tone he uses is serious, almost annoyed, but his eyes are fixed on you and his hands on your legs are sliding higher and higher.
you know he's not annoyed.
"you brought me to the desert."
"i brought you to a five-star hotel."
"in the desert."
"with a pool."
"in the desert!"
"baby, it's new york!" he says, raising his voice slightly, though almost immediately a short laugh escapes him. "you know i don't like leaving you home alone."
actually, yes, you do know. austin is quite protective of you, and if leaving you alone isn't absolutely necessary, then he doesn't leave you alone. he treats you like you're gold in his hands, or something too fragile to neglect for even a second. some of your friends say it's weird; you think having your husband obsessed with you is a real win in life.
you look at him silently for a moment. finally, you sigh and place your hands on his bare shoulders.
"are you going in the pool?"
he blinks, a little confused by your question.
"no."
you slide your hands up, gently running your fingers through his hair.
"what if we go back to the room and you fuck me until i stop complaining?" you ask, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes.
austin, far from being surprised by your words—he would never be surprised by what he himself taught you, it would be too hypocritical—laughs openly, his eyes lovingly gazing at your face.
summary. austin said in an interview that he liked to cuddle, and he wasn't lying.
starring. austin butler x wife!reader
tags & warnings. established marriage, austin being clingy, reader being hugged like a teddy bear, domestic fluff, romance.
word count. 0.6k
note. really short, but i smiled during the whole thing
mornings with austin never start when the alarm goes off. they start when you feel one of his big arms sliding around your waist, heavy and warm, like he's claiming you even before he's fully awake.
when you open your eyes, the room is still dark thanks to the thick curtains that block out the golden morning light, and for a moment everything is quiet… until he moves behind you.
"no." he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep, burying his face in your neck. "not yet."
obviously, austin doesn't even know if you were going to get up. you know he doesn't care either. for him, any sign that you might move is enough reason to hold you tighter. and he does. his arm tightens around you, pulling you back against his chest with an ease that always surprises you.
you're small next to him, you always fit perfectly, like you were made for that exact space between his arms.
austin sighs, satisfied, when you end up completely pressed against him.
"stay still." he says, almost in a sleepy whisper.
you try to turn a little to look at him, but that only makes things worse. the moment you move, he reacts immediately, sliding one leg between yours and wrapping himself around you completely. now there's no way for you to move, much less escape.
"austin…" you murmur, almost laughing.
"shh." he cuts you off right away, his voice low and close. "you're warm."
his nose brushes your cheek, then your jaw, until it finds that spot just under your ear that makes your eyes fall shut. it's not exactly a kiss, more like a lazy, distracted nudge, but it's enough to make you feel the way he smiles against your skin.
"very warm." he adds, squeezing you a little tighter, as if he needs to make sure.
"you're crushing me." you tell him, even though you make no real attempt to move away.
he lets out a soft laugh, barely audible, and loosens his hold… just for a moment, because then he pulls you back in again, this time more carefully, but just as insistently.
"brat." he says. "you like it."
of course you like it.
you like how his hand rests on your stomach, how his fingers move absentmindedly, tracing invisible lines over your bare skin. you like how his breathing grows slower, deeper, gradually syncing with yours.
you like how, even half asleep, he looks for you.
because that's what austin does. every time you drift a few inches away, he finds you again. if you turn, he adjusts. if you stretch, he follows. it's like he has some kind of internal radar that won’t let him let you go.
"austin…" you whisper again, softer this time. "i have to get up."
you feel him shake his head against your shoulder.
"no."
"i'm hungry."
he lifts his head just enough to look at you, his eyes still half-closed, his messy hair falling over his forehead. his expression is a mix of softness and stubbornness that makes you hold back a laugh.
"me too." he says. "later."
before you can respond, he hides his face in your neck again, this time leaving a slow, lazy kiss against your skin.
he slides his hand a little higher, holding you with more intention, pulling you in until there's practically no space left between you. his legs tangle with yours again, and this time you don’t try to move away.
"you're really small." he says suddenly, almost thoughtful.
"you already knew that."
"i like that you're small."
and he squeezes you a little tighter, like he wants to prove it.
summary. just two months after giving birth to austin's daughter, you tell him the news that, as impossible as it sounds, you are pregnant again.
starring. austin butler x wife!reader
tags & warnings. established marriage, age gap (unspecified), pregnancy, kids, domestic fluff, humor/crack, romance.
word count. 3.5k
note. i've had this since december, but i decided to post it now. i think it's a good way to start february. i hope you enjoy it! <3
the first thing you feel when you wake up is that delicious ache between your legs that you've grown so familiar with. it brings back memories of last night: hours filled with gasps and moans, a bed transformed into a nest, and four walls as witnesses to a love that went from a casual encounter to a pillar of strength. the second thing you feel is austin's arm around your waist, his big, possessive hand on your skin as if, even asleep, he knew you belonged to him. the third thing you feel is the softness of the sheets and the touch of your bare skin against the smooth silk, the light, almost ghostly caress the fabric blows over your aching body. and the last thing you feel makes you curse inwardly.
you close your eyes tightly and wrinkle your nose, resisting the urge to groan in frustration, though you're not really frustrated, just irritated and tired, because you've felt this for two months and you know you'll continue to feel it for much longer. your breasts hurt. god, seriously. if it were austin's fault, you wouldn't complain, but it's breastfeeding's fault, and it's as if your patience and energy are being tested by your own body.
you move a little, barely, but the soft touch of the fabric against your swollen, sore nipples makes you wince briefly. you lie still for a moment, staring at the ceiling; the baby monitor is silent, so you know you don't have to get out of bed, but your breasts say otherwise. in your case, the only downside to being two months postpartum is that your breasts are painfully full of milk every morning.
other than that, your short postpartum period has been all about sex, so it really could be worse. maybe you shouldn't even complain, because thankfully you're handling these months much better than most mothers, but you're stubborn and sometimes capricious, and right now you're really sleepy, so you complain anyway.
trying not to wake austin, you shift gently, carefully loosening his grip on your waist, but austin is austin, and his hand on your waist instinctively tightens, prompting you to turn your head to look at him. he seems more asleep than awake, but he refuses to let go.
"where are you going?" he asks, his voice raspy and sleepy, his blue eyes clouded with sleep, his brow adorably furrowed in confusion.
your irritation vanishes instantly, and your expression softens at the sight, before you smile gently and lean in to kiss his lips and forehead, your hand gently stroking his cheek. austin is beautiful, but he's especially adorable when he doesn't want you to get out of bed; his furrowed brow, his confused and sleepy eyes, his messy hair, and that little bump on his lower lip, a barely visible pout, makes you want to pull him close and hold him tight.
and he looks gorgeous, but your breasts are killing you.
"i need to pump." you whisper, wrinkling your nose slightly, trying to wriggle free from his grasp. "they're so full."
austin is silent for a moment, processing your words, before letting out a soft oh and immediately releasing you with a sympathetic nod.
"do you need me to help you?"
his concern melts your heart despite the awkwardness. "no, love, i can do it myself."
"okay." he mumbles sleepily, rolling over onto his stomach, ready to go back to sleep. "go take care of those beautiful tits of yours."
you give him a playful look that he clearly doesn't notice and get out of bed, naked, your hair cascading down your back like a waterfall. you wrap yourself in a silk robe and tie the ties around your waist, not bothering to put anything else on underneath. you turn off the air conditioning, just like every morning, and when you leave the bedroom, you quietly close the door behind you.
no staff are coming today; no helpers, no chefs. they rarely come when you and austin are home at the same time—except when he's having one of those parties or dinners with his friends—so the house is completely silent, that kind of silence that only exists in the early hours of the morning, when the world seems to hold its breath before waking.
you go downstairs and cross the living room barefoot to the kitchen, where you don't linger long. you drink a glass of cold water while you empty your breasts, filling three bottles with milk. you put two in the refrigerator and leave the kitchen with one in your hand, filled with warm milk. you go back upstairs and follow the long marble hallway to your baby's room.
however, as soon as you open the door, you stop dead in your tracks.
austin is standing in the middle of the room, wearing only pajama pants that sit low on his hips, his bare torso illuminated by the soft light coming through the window. his short blond hair is tousled, unruly, as if he'd run his hand through it several times when he got up. and in his arms, wrapped in a white blanket, is her.
lori.
your daughter.
his daughter.
your heart leaps slightly in your chest when you see austin holding his baby; she's still asleep, her little head resting against austin's bicep, one of her tiny hands clutching his finger. austin holds her with a naturalness that still surprises you, gently rocking from side to side, as if his body learned the movement before his mind.
you don't speak immediately; instead, you stay there, still and silent, watching with the bottle clutched between your fingers and something warm expanding in your chest. it's such an intimate image, you even feel as if you're interrupting a moment that doesn't concern you.
austin looks up when he senses you. his eyes, still sleepy, light up when he sees you.
"i thought you'd be a little longer." he says softly, careful not to wake the baby. "i missed her and... well." he makes a small gesture, as if he doesn't know how to explain why he ended up there.
you smile gently. "i thought you'd still be asleep." you reply, finally moving toward them.
you hand him the bottle, and austin looks at it for a moment. "now?" he asks.
you nod. "it's warm."
austin settles lori more carefully, bringing the bottle to her lips. the baby stirs slightly, wrinkling her little nose, and then, almost immediately, begins to suck with that soft, rhythmic sound you already recognize as one of the most comforting in the world.
austin exhales slowly, looking at lori with soft eyes full of tenderness. "hello, little one." he murmurs softly, in a low voice. "good morning."
you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest, watching them in silence. you've seen austin on red carpets, in front of cameras, surrounded by people, transformed into something almost unreal for the rest of the world. but nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to seeing him like this: disheveled, barefoot, with your daughter in his arms, completely oblivious to everything but her.
"thank you for giving her to me " he says suddenly, without taking his eyes off lori.
you feel your throat close up a little. "she's yours too, aus." you reply softly.
austin shakes his head slightly, a small smile curving his lips.
"i know, but…" he swallows. "i still can't believe how she came out of you." he looks up at you, and there's something in his eyes that completely disarms you. it's not just love; it's awe, a kind of quiet reverence. "you did something incredible."
you lower your gaze, a little embarrassed, a pinkish tinge tinging your cheeks. "we did something incredible." you correct him, watching austin's smile widen.
lori continues eating, completely absorbed, and austin watches her as if he can't tear his eyes away. every now and then, he wipes the corner of her lips with his thumb, with a gentleness that seems calculated, but is actually instinctive.
for a moment, you think about all the times you doubted yourself during the pregnancy, the fear, the exhaustion, the long nights. and now you're here, watching your husband hold your daughter, looking like he were born to do it.
time seems to stretch. to stop, even.
"she's looks just like you." you say, breaking the silence. "more and more every day."
austin lets out a soft, nasal chuckle. "you say that because you love me."
"and because it's true." you tilt your head slightly, studying lori's profile. "she has your blonde hair, the same shape as your lips, your eyes... even her little nose looks like yours." you look up at him with a small smile. "and she has your calmness. although it's still too early to tell."
austin shakes his head slowly. "no. it's true."
when lori finishes eating, she puts down the bottle with a contented sigh, her eyelids drooping again. austin picks up the bottle and checks that it's empty.
"i think i won." he murmurs.
you know he's not talking about the bottle, but about lori, about you, about his life, about how that night after breaking up with his ex-grilfriend led him to become a husband and now a father.
"you won."
austin settles lori against his shoulder and gently pats her back. a few seconds later, a small burp escapes the baby, and austin smiles as if he's just witnessed a miracle.
"well done." he says, very serious.
you let out a low laugh. "you're ridiculous."
"i'm a proud father."
when lori is completely relaxed again, austin looks down at her and then at you.
"do you want me to change her?" he asks. "i can."
you hesitate for barely a second, more out of habit than anything else. then you nod. "are you sure?"
austin leans toward you and gives you a soft kiss on the lips; brief, but full of meaning.
"go." he repeats. "i'll take care of her."
you close your eyes for a moment, resting your cheek against his shoulder. "thank you."
before leaving, you look at them one last time: austin is already heading to the changing table, whispering to lori, probably telling her a secret only the two of them share.
god, you need to give him another baby.
the living room is bathed in that soft, amber light that only exists when the sun has already set but the night hasn’t fully claimed the house yet. a few lamps are on, strategically placed, warm and low, turning the space into something intimate and almost cocoon-like. the television murmurs quietly in the background, some old movie you’ve both seen a dozen times, something familiar enough that it doesn’t demand attention.
you're curled on one end of the sofa, knees drawn up, a blanket draped loosely over your legs. austin is stretched out beside you, his back against the armrest, one arm propped comfortably as he holds lori against his chest. she's wide awake now, dressed in a soft cotton onesie, her tiny feet bare and kicking lazily against his stomach.
austin is completely gone.
he presses slow, exaggerated kisses to her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose. each one is followed by a quiet sound, little mwahs that make lori wrinkle her nose before bursting into a toothless smile. she lets out a high-pitched giggle, the kind that still feels like magic every single time you hear it.
"there it is." austin murmurs, grinning down at her. "that's my favorite sound in the whole world."
he does it again. another kiss. another giggle.
you watch from your spot, chin resting against your knee, arms wrapped loosely around yourself. you don't interrupt. you don't move. you just... watch, letting the image sink into you: austin butler, movie star, heart-throb, your husband —your husband— lying on a couch in sweatpants, completely undone by a baby who weighs less than a watermelon.
he looks impossibly happy. relaxed in a way he rarely was before lori. softer. like something inside him finally exhaled.
your hand drifts unconsciously to your stomach, your belly. the movement is small, almost involuntary, but it's enough to make your chest tighten.
you've been quiet for a while now. too quiet.
austin notices eventually. he always does. he looks up from lori, eyes flicking to you, immediately attentive.
"y'alright?" he asks softly, looking at you with soft, attentive eyes
you nod, too fast. an automatic gesture that makes you force a tense smile, more like a grimace. "yes, i'm okay." you whisper.
he hums, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn't push. instead, he adjusts lori slightly, letting her rest more comfortably on his chest, her ear pressed against his heartbeat. one of his hands gently pats her back, slow and rhythmic, while the other reaches out to you.
"baby." he calls you softly. his fingers move, asking you to come closer. you look at his hand for a moment, and he moves his fingers again. "hey, come here."
you hesitate for half a second, then scoot closer, settling against his side. his arm wraps around you easily, warm and solid, pulling you into him until your shoulder presses against his ribs. you rest your head against his shoulder, breathing him in: clean soap, warm skin, something uniquely him.
lori makes a little sound, then goes quiet again, her fingers curling into the fabric of austin's shirt.
"she's getting heavier." austin murmurs thoughtfully, looking at her with that expression that never leaves his face every time he looks at her.
you smile softly. "she's growing."
"too fast, yeah." he sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "she was just... a really tiny thing and now she's..." he pauses, smiling to himself. "still tiny. but less tiny."
you let out a soft breath of laughter.
silence settles again, comfortable but charged. the movie keeps playing, forgotten. the only sounds are lori's quiet breathing and the distant hum of the house.
your heart starts to beat a little faster.
you know this is the moment. you've been carrying it around all day, turning it over in your mind, waiting for the right time. there's never a perfect one. but this feels… close enough.
"aus?" you murmur. your voice is barely a low, soft sound, almost shy.
"yes, doll?"
you swallow, watching the screen without really watching it. "there's... uh, something i need to tell you."
his body shifts subtly, instantly alert. he looks down at you, concern flickering across his face.
"what is it?" he asks gently. "is everything okay?"
"um, well..." you tilt your head, hesitant, but then you nod again, slower this time. "yeah, yeah, i mean..." you nod again. "yes. everything's okay.”
he waits. he always waits.
you draw a breath, then another. your fingers twist into the blanket on your lap.
"i…" you pause, then force yourself to continue. "i went to see my doctor yesterday."
austin's brows knit together slightly. "why?"
your mouth feels dry. "just… a check-up."
his concern deepens. "but you didn’t tell me." he doesn't sound angry, but... he doesn't sound particularly happy either.
"i know." you answer quickly. "i... i didn’t want to worry you." you look up at him, meeting his eyes. "and i didn’t know for sure yet."
"for sure about what?" he asks quietly.
your heart is pounding now, loud in your ears.
"i'm pregnant."
the words hang there, fragile and terrifying and real.
for a second, just one, austin doesn't react at all. his face goes completely still, as if his brain needs a moment to catch up. then his eyes widen, just slightly.
"what?" he breathes.
you nod, a small, nervous smile tugging at your lips. "i'm pregnant. again."
he blinks.
then again.
and then again.
his gaze flicks instinctively to your stomach, then back to your face. "you're-" he swallows. "but you just had lori."
"i know."
"two months ago."
"i know."
his mouth opens, then closes. his arm tightens around you unconsciously, protective.
"are you-" he stops himself, lowers his voice. his hand suddenly lands gently on your belly. "are you okay?"
"yes." you answer quickly. "i'm okay. the doctor says everything looks fine. it's early, but-"
"jesus." he whispers.
you watch the emotions move across his face in real time: shock, confusion, concern, something like fear. his jaw tightens slightly.
"god, baby, but you're so young..." he says softly, almost to himself. his thumb moves gently over the skin of your stomach. "and your body hasn't even-"
"i know." you repeat, more gently this time. "i know all of that."
austin keeps looking at you for a few more seconds, like he’s still trying to process it all. his hand remains on your stomach. he doesn’t move it.
"they say i control you." he adds quietly, almost ashamed. "that i rush you. that… that i force you into things." the word force costs him something.
you lift your head immediately. "that's not true."
"i know." he cuts in quickly, firm. "i know. but i still hear it. and it makes me want to…" he exhales, holding himself back. "i don't care what they say about me, but i don't want anyone thinking you don't choose." he leans a little closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours. "you're the most stubborn person i know." he says with a faint smile. "if i tried to control you, you'd send me straight to hell."
you can’t help but laugh. "correct."
"exactly." he nods, satisfied. "you'd humiliate me publicly."
"probably."
"definitely."
there's pride in his eyes.
he exhales slowly, eyes dropping to lori, who sleeps on, blissfully unaware. he strokes her back once, grounding himself.
"was it-" he hesitates, then looks at you again. "was it planned?"
"i'm pretty sure it wasn't." you say, without taking offense at his question. "but… it doesn’t scare me." you add quietly.
that makes him look at you again, really look at you.
"it doesn't?"
you shake your head again. "i was surprised. and yeah, a little overwhelmed." you give a tiny, nervous laugh. "okay, maybe more than a little. but when i saw the test, i didn’t feel scared. i just thought about… us. about lori, about you and-and i know you want more kids."
his throat works as he swallows.
"you just went through so much." he says, voice low. "pregnancy, labor, recovery… breastfeeding." he grimaces. "i just... i don't know, baby, i hate the idea of your body not getting time to rest."
"i know." you say softly. "but... my body isn't just mine anymore. it hasn't been for a while. and that's okay. i trust you. you have always taken care of me."
he closes his eyes briefly, your words hitting somewhere deep. when he opens them again, something has shifted. lori shifts a little, making a soft sound, and he glances down at her. his expression melts instantly.
a smile starts to form. slow. disbelieving.
"again." he murmurs, almost reverently.
you nod.
"i'm gonna have two little girls." he murmurs. "two."
"maybe not a girl." you say.
he raises an eyebrow. "with my aim, sweetheart? that's straight to the target."
you snort despite yourself. "austin."
"i'm just saying i'm consistent." he grins shamelessly. "precise. efficient."
"you're unbelievable."
"baby, two months." he insists, absurdly proud. "that's professional level."
you swat his chest lightly. "stop bragging about that."
"it's a natural talent." he shrugs. "should put it on my résumé."
"actor, singer and… what, reproductive sniper?"
he lets out a low laugh that vibrates against your cheek. "exactly."
you shake your head, laughing now, tension melting away. "you're impossible."
"and fertile." he adds proudly.
you press your face into his shoulder, groaning. "please stop."
he laughs, the sound full and warm, vibrating through you. then he sobers slightly, lifting your chin so you have to look at him.
"hey..." he says softly, looking at you gith gentle eyes. "i want you to know that i'm really happy, okay? i... i love it when you're carrying our baby. i just..." his thumb brushes your cheek. "i worry because... you're my baby. and i love you. that's all."
"i know." you whisper, staring at him. then you smile, softly. "and i love you too. and..." you sigh. "and i don't care what others say: you've never forced me to do anything, and you're not forcing me to do this. i want this. again. with you."
his expression softens even more as he hears your words, the gentle reverence in them. he leans in and kisses you; slow, tender, careful not to disturb lori. when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.
"i got this." he murmurs. "i really do, okay? i'll take care of you. i always will."
you nod, eyes stinging. "i know."
he smiles again, that proud, almost smug smile returning. "guess i should start practicing my... skills."
you glance at lori, sleeping peacefully between you.
"something tells me" you say softly, looking at them. "you'll be just fine."
he presses a kiss to lori's head, then to yours.
"i'm the luckiest man alive." he says simply.
you take a breath and shrug, nodding. "yes, you are." you concede, not caring if you sound boastful.
"and fertile."
"austin."
he laughs again and gives you another kiss on the lips.
summary. during an argument, you impulsively decide to take off your nightgown to distract austin. it turns out it works.
starring. austin butler x wife!reader
tags & warnings. established marriage, age gap (unspecified), marital fights, degradation, romance.
word count. 2.3k
note. this is short, but i saw a tiktok where a couple was fighting and she just showed him her friends and suddenly everything was okay, so i decided to do the same, but with austin and you. have fun! :D
you know you're so much younger than austin. you also know that's never been a problem, not for you, not for him. you two didn't get married despite everything, you didn't have a daughter despite everything. your age was never an obstacle, much less a problem, but there are days—days like today—when you wonder if your age might weigh more than you'd like to admit.
because now you're sitting across from him, arms crossed, brow furrowed, your phone still hot in your hand, as if the words you read there could burn your skin. an actress, a recent outing, a blurry photo. a "rumor has it" and "according to sources close to". comments from people pitying you. the same old recycled script.
and yet, there's something in your chest impossible to ignore, something childish, primal.
"don't look at me like that." you say, before he can even open his mouth. and it's not that he looks at you with disdain or annoyance, he never has, but you hate that he seems so calm while you feel like you're going crazy. it feels like you're all alone in this. "you know exactly what i'm talking about."
austin sighs as soon as the words leave your mouth. not in an exaggerated way, not with annoyance, not even the slightest hint of irritation. it's that slow, controlled sigh he uses when he's trying to stay calm around you.
"i just..." he runs a finger across the bridge of his nose and looks at you with a mixture of weariness and patience. "this again, love? i-"
"again?" you repeat, looking at him indignantly. as if what bothers you is a problem for him. "sure, for you it's just again. for me it's humiliating."
"it's not true." he says calmly, and he sounds so calm it's almost offensive. "none of it. none of what they're saying. and you know it."
"i know it?" you ask, almost offended. you shrug, looking around with a confused expression. you look back at him almost immediately. "what am i, a witch? no, austin, i don't know. that's why i'm here. everyone thinks you're out there..."
you don't finish the sentence, not because you can't, but because you don't have to.
austin gently takes your phone and carefully puts it in his jacket pocket. he's just come back from a meeting with some director you can't remember, and you almost feel bad about making him come home to your complaints, but you're too busy feeling bad about yourself.
"i'm not having an affair." he says, firm but calm. "i never have. not now. not before."
"that's what you say."
the silence that follows is awkward. he looks at you, surprised, even a little hurt.
"do you really think i'd lie to you?"
you shrug. a small gesture. cowardly.
"i don't know. it's just…" you pause. "it always happens. there are always rumors. there's always a new woman."
"because i'm an actor." he takes off his jacket without breaking eye contact and leaves it beside him. he doesn't give you back your phone. "because i work with women. because people make things up. say it how it is, love."
"because you're austin butler." you reply, a hint of bitterness in your voice. you look at him with angry, hurt eyes. "and i'm the young wife that everyone thinks he got on a whim."
that's when he tenses up. you notice it in his jaw and in that heaviness that seems to settle on his shoulders.
"don't talk about yourself like that. and don't put words in my mouth or anyone else's."
"that's what they think."
"no." he replies. "that's what you are thinking right now."
you jump up from the couch. "don't tell me what to think!"
austin stands up too, but he doesn't invade your space. he never does, not when you're arguing. he would never lay a hand on you, and you know it, but he always makes sure to remind you of it during every argument.
"so you tell me what this is." he says, gesturing to the air between you, looking almost sad. "because it's not about a woman. we've been through this a hundred times."
"oh, right." you scoff with a bitter smile. "because every time it was a lie, right? no rumor was ever true."
a heavy silence falls between you.
"what do you mean?" he asks, even though he already knows.
you swallow.
"kaia."
the name hangs in the air like a slap in the face. austin closes his eyes for a second. just one, but it's enough. then he opens them, looking at you with a mixture of frustration and weariness that makes you flinch a little inside.
"that's low."
"but it was true."
"no, don't you dare say that!" he raises his voice for the first time. you don't step back; he's never given you any reason to. "i chose you, for god's sake! you are my wife. i gave you my last name, my damn ring, and i've given you my only child. you can doubt me all you want, but deep down you know i never did any of that shit i'm being accused of."
the silence is thick now, heavy, and you feel a sudden guilt twisting in your stomach, a knot that tightens more and more as austin looks at you with bright, frustrated, and tired eyes.
"do you know how unfair this is?" he continues, more controlled but firm. he raises his arms and then lets them fall to his sides, looking tired. "i work all day, i come home thinking about you and our daughter, and i find myself having to defend myself against something i didn't do. again."
you swallow, trying to get rid of the sudden lump in your throat. "i just..."
"you're scared." he interrupts, finishing your sentence. "yes, darlin', i know, and i understand, but you're letting your fear turn into accusations."
you lower your gaze and take a step back to sit on the sofa. you clasp your hands in your lap and anxiously play with the rings on your fingers, twirling them over and over as you listen to austin talk.
he doesn't move closer right away. he stands in front of you, taking deep breaths, as if he needs to settle his own emotions before continuing, and when he finally speaks, his voice is lower, less defensive.
"when we started..." he begins, slowly. "i already knew this was gonna happen. i know who i am, i know what my job is, i know how fucked up hollywood is. the rumors, the photos taken out of context, the shitty headlines." he looks up for a second, as if searching the ceiling for patience, and looks back at you. "and i also knew you were younger. not because of your age in years, but because of... this."
he makes a small gesture with his hand, pointing at you. that hurts more than it should, because you know exactly what it means.
"sometimes..." he continues. "when things get out of control, you react as if it's all gonna disappear in an instant. as if i'm gonna wake up one day and say: okay, i'm bored, i'm leaving." he shakes his head. "and that's not fair. not to me. and not to you either."
you press your lips together. you feel the heat rising to your face, a mixture of shame and misdirected anger.
you take a breath and look at the half-finished glass of wine on the coffee table. you pick it up with trembling fingers and finish it in two quick gulps before setting it back down, avoiding austin's gaze. despite being barely dressed in a short, strapless nightgown that barely covers your legs, you feel hot. from the wine, from anger, from shame. and because austin is right. again. as always.
god, you hate being so immature. so stupid. you hate feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.
the silence stretches between you. it's not violent, it's not cold, but it weighs heavily. it weighs heavily because you know you brought it on yourself. because you know austin isn't wrong, and because, even so, a part of you still feels small, insecure, as if you're asking for something you don't know how to name.
austin finally takes a step toward you, slowly, as if afraid that any sudden movement might break you.
"i don't need you to be perfect." he says, his voice softer now, almost weary. "i don't need you to be confident all the time, or mature all the time. but i do need you to trust me. that when the noise outside gets loud, you don't put me on the same side as them."
he raises a hand, running his fingers through his hair with barely contained frustration.
"because i'm here." he insists. "i'm here every day. i come back to this house, i come back to you. i sleep with you. i wake up to our daughter screaming at six in the morning." a smile forms on his lips; small, sad. "i'm not a headline. i'm not a blurry photo. i'm your husband."
you finally look up, and seeing him like this—tired, honest, hurt—makes your chest ache.
"and when you doubt..." he continues, unaware that you're getting up again. "when you look at me as if i were capable of-"
you don't even think about it.
it's impulsive, it's stupid, even pathetic. but you do it. you slip the thin black straps off your shoulders and the silk of your nightgown slides over your skin, leaving your breasts bare, completely exposed to austin's gaze.
silence.
he gasps at the sudden movement. his gaze immediately falls on your bare chest, and you watch as his pupils dilate slightly at the sight of your skin and your pink nipples.
for a moment, he's silent, frozen.
you know that using your body as a weapon is a desperate move, but what else can you do at this point?
you know that austin loves your breasts, he always has, and after the pregnancy, after you gave birth, your breasts grew, became rounder, fuller, even firmer, prouder... and austin is obsessed.
he swallows hard, his adam's apple rising and falling. slowly, his eyes meet yours, a blush creeping up his neck and cheeks. when he speaks, his voice is husky, with a hint of desire and a touch of annoyance.
"that... that's not fair. you can't just..."
he doesn't finish the sentence. he stares at your breasts for a few seconds and then sighs.
"god damn it." he curses under his breath before looking back into your eyes. "this doesn't solve anythin', you know that."
of course you know that, but you're already aware of your bad behavior, you know you need to improve, and you know you want to change the tone of the conversation.
you stand up and your nightgown falls to the floor, this time leaving you completely naked. silently, you watch as his eyes slide to your pussy and then back to your breasts. you walk toward him and easily get him to sit on the sofa. without thinking, you climb onto his lap, pressing your breasts against him.
"i know."
he lets out a grunt, more of frustration than anger. his hands hover over your hips before settling there. "you're acting like a whore, you know that, right?"
you look at him, his chest against yours. you bring your hands to your breasts. "i just think they can help." you reply, still looking at him. your cheeks burn, but you don't back down. you're usually quite shy, but why not just shut him up and let him suck on your breasts instead?
his eyes follow your hands, and you watch his throat bob as he swallows hard. you see the exact moment when his irritation completely dissolves into pure desire.
"you're ridiculous." he mutters, but he's already lowering his head. "and manipulative."
his mouth closes around one nipple, sucking hard, while his hand covers the other breast completely. you let out a satisfied moan, your hands coming up to hold his head against your chest.
"see?" you gasp. "this is better."
he doesn't respond, his mouth too busy with your breast. he nips and sucks, his tongue swirling around your hardened nipple. his large hand squeezes the other breast firmly, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak.
he switches his attention to the other breast, giving it equal attention. his mouth is hot and wet, his tongue working wonders. you can feel yourself growing wetter between your legs, your body responding to his touch.
without warning, he bites down hard on one of your sensitive peaks and you cry out sharply, your hands flying to his hair to tug at the strands. his teeth clamp down even harder, sucking the entire areola into his mouth and biting down with just the right amount of pressure to make you whimper and grind your bare pussy against against the hard bulge in his pants, coating his crotch with your arousal.
"fuckin' whore." he doesn't mean it offensively, you know that. he sounds somewhere between surprised and amused.
you smirk at him, unashamed. you lean in to bite his earlobe hard, whispering. "your whore, though. only yours." you start unbuckling his belt, popping open the button of his pants. "now, are you gonna fuck me or...?"
his eyes flash with a mix of possession and lust. without a word, he stands up, grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. his hands grip your ass possessively as he lifts you up.
summary. tired of your family's drama, you leave california to go to your new home: austin.
starring. austin butler x presley!reader
tags & warnings. secret relationship, age gap (18/28), soft angst, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), rough & unprotected sex, breeding kink, degradation/praise, sex toys, anal play, spanking, crying during sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare, romance.
word count. 9.1k
note. why a presley reader? well, why not?
the digital clock on your nightstand reads 11:11 p.m, and the mansion smells of expensive perfume and old arguments. you're sitting on your bedroom floor, on the soft white rug in the center of the room, your phone clutched in trembling hands, your makeup still fresh from a photoshoot that had gone well until you came home and found priscilla, who for some reason had decided to pay a visit.
you don't even remember the exact moment you snapped; you only remember hearing lies pouring from priscilla's mouth, and unlike your family, you decided you'd had enough and wanted nothing more to do with it.
the rest is... blurry.
the dim light on your phone illuminates your face. austin's name flashes at the top of the chat, and you look at it as if you might find there the calm you've been missing, the calm you've been missing ever since he left for australia.
"don't bother him..." you murmur, biting your lip, but your thumb is already pressing the call icon.
silently, you wait. embarrassed, because he's probably still on set or simply doesn't need to be bothered, but you still can't help it. you need him. although that's nothing new. the ringtone buzzes once, twice, three times... and just as you think about hanging up, his voice comes through on the other end, a little husky, soft, with that accent that sounds like a refuge to you.
"y/n?" he asks. "everythin' okay, baby?"
you inhale shakily and, for a moment, stare at the huge framed picture of your grandfather above your bed, unsure where to begin.
"i don't know..." you murmur, finally looking away. in the absolute darkness of your room, you bite a nail as you stare out the window. "i think i'm tired."
there's a brief silence, that kind of pause where he usually holds back the urge to run out and find you.
"what happened?"
"priscilla. she came over, i don't know why, and mom just... let her in, again." you swallow, and your voice cracks slightly. "and... and this shit ain't f'r me. i just... i just wanna disappear for a while."
austin sighs, and you swear you can almost picture him running his hand through his hair, with that mixture of tenderness and concern that's so uniquely his.
"then do it, baby." he says, without thinking too much. "drop everythin' and come with me."
you blink.
"what?"
"come with me."
you blink again, surprised.
"to australia?"
"to australia." his tone is firmer this time, more determined. "i'll take care of you. i promise you'll be safe here."
your heart leaps. "i can't... i can't just leave."
"yes, you can." his voice is calm, but firm. "you're eighteen now, baby. you don’t gotta 'splain nothin' t' nobody, alright?"
you give a nervous giggle, your eyes fixed on the ring resting in your palm; one of the rings that used to belong to your grandfather.
sure, it should be in a museum, but it was your grandfather's and you wanted it, so you took it.
"do you know what they’d say if they found out i ran off t’ be with you?"
"that you got tired of all the drama an' the lies." he answers calmly. "an' they'd be right."
"what if mom comes lookin' f'r me?" you whisper, your voice so low it's barely audible over the static on the phone.
"let her come lookin’ for you." he replies, gently but firmly. "she can’t keep controllin’ everythin’ you do. you deserve t' breathe, don’t ya?"
you bite your lip. the silence stretches for a few seconds, only the sound of the wind on the other end of the line, and his breathing.
"i don’t know if i can." you admit, your voice barely a whisper. "i ain't like you, austin. i... i don't know nothin'. i'm eighteen."
"i know." he says, after a pause. "that's why i'm tellin' you. i'm gonna take care of you. nothin' bad's gonna happen t' you here. i'm gonna take care of you."
his words hang in the air. you look at the ring again, as if it were an invisible compass.
"i swear, if you were here, i’d hold you till you stopped shaking'."
you close your eyes. "don't say that."
"why not?"
" 'cause you'll make me cry."
"cry, sweet girl. just don't stay there."
the lump in your throat tightens. you take a deep breath.
"what if i change my mind?"
"you won't."
"how do you know?"
" 'cause it’s me." he replies, with a smile you can almost hear. "an' 'cause deep down, you already made up your mind t' leave. you're just waitin' for somebody t' say it out loud. so… i'm sayin' it."
you remain silent.
"and what if all this goes wrong?"
"then we'll fix it." he says confidently, without hesitation. "like we always do."
you take a deep breath. "austin..." your voice trembles slightly, and you swallow. "i won't want to come back."
"i know." he replies gently, understandingly. "and you don’t have to, baby. stay here till filmin' wraps, an' i can come back t' california with you. and if not… then we stay here. i buy us a house right here, make our life here. 'member the kids you told me 'bout? we can have ’em here."
you remain silent for several seconds, just staring at the ring in your palm. deep down, you know this conversation isn't new; he's told you this before, many times, in other words, when he sees you frustrated by your grandmother's lies, your family's lack of initiative, or the weight of your last name.
but this time, his voice sounds different, almost as if he's reaching out to you in the darkness.
and then you remember the nights you spent together before he left, how he held you after making love until you cried, the drives in his car around los angeles, the laughter in his apartment while you composed on his guitar and he read a script. you remember how safe you feel when he holds you, how his voice can calm your racing heart with just a word: i'm here, baby.
and you understand: he's your home.
"austin..." you whisper, a smile slowly forming on your lips.
"come with me, love. i'll be waitin'."
the call ends.
your fingers tremble slightly as you lower the phone, leaving it forgotten on the rug. for a moment, everything is silent, save for the soft sound of the wind coming in through the window, moving the curtains as if they're trying to tell you something. the ring remains in your palm, cold, heavy, yet somehow comforting because of the memory of who it belongs to.
you let out a trembling sigh and look around: the enormous portrait of your grandfather above your bed, a photo with riley on your nightstand, your guitar in the corner, the flowers your mother sends to be changed every week. everything so tidy, so perfect… and so foreign.
you close your hand around the ring.
you place it against your chest, right over your heart, and close your eyes. and you think of your grandfather. you think of his voice. his laughter. how good he was. how he would have loved you if he had known you. how you love him even though he could never hold you. and then you think of austin. how he says your name as if it were a secret only he knows. how he holds you after sex. how he looks at you as if you were the only good thing in the world.
when you open your eyes again, something inside you has already decided.
you grab your sweatshirt, which is actually austin's, put on some knee-high brown boots, and take one last look at yourself in the mirror. your hair is a mess, your eyes still wet. but there's something different about your reflection: something serene.
fuck it.
at 4:25 a.m, while your mother sleeps in calabasas, you're crossing the dark sky wearing a baseball cap, an oversized hoodie that belongs to austin, and your grandfather's ring clutched tightly between your fingers. at the bottom of your bag is a notebook filled with all the lyrics to the songs you're writing, your laptop, your tablet, and a bottle of cologne austin gave you the last time you saw him, still in its box.
the flight feels endless. between your grandfather's songs and the memories of the phone call, you feel something between fear and excitement. you hadn't planned anything—you hadn't even packed properly—but for the first time in a long time, you don't feel trapped.
as the plane cuts through the clouds, you try not to think too much. that was the first thing you told yourself when you boarded: don't think, just breathe. but it's impossible. because every time you look out the window and see the sky, your mind goes back home. to the door you closed silently. to your mother, who will surely walk into your room in a few hours and see the empty bed, the forgotten charger, the sweatshirt she kept asking you to fold lying on the chair.
you feel a void in your chest, as if you left something vital behind. and you did. you left everything.
you don't know if what you did was brave or cowardly, only that it was necessary. the idea of staying there, smiling for photos, pretending to be okay, listening to your grandmother's lies and dealing with your family's drama... is suffocating.
at some point, as the plane gently vibrates and the lights dim, you wonder if you're making an irreversible mistake. if you should have left a note for your mother, or riley, or even a message. but you didn't. you didn't want anyone trying to stop you.
you know your mother will be furious when she finds out you ran away not just from home, but from the country. you know riley and ben will worry a lot, the twins will be sad, and people will talk. really, you know it, but right now you feel happy, so there literally can't be nothing wrong with it.
you take a deep breath.
and even though everything still hurts—your chest, your eyes, the homesickness—there's something different now: a faint but steady feeling, like an invisible thread pulling you forward. for the first time, you don't feel like you're running away. you feel like you're going toward something.
you're going home.
it's 3:15 p.m when the plane lands in queensland, and the sun is so golden it seems like a promise of something new, something better, and you have to hold back the tears. not tears of sadness, but of relief, because it's as if, suddenly, the air weighs less. you step off the plane wearing sunglasses, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, immediately feeling the humid heat of queensland envelop you like a warm hug now that you've taken off your sweatshirt.
the airport is noisy, full of voices and announcements, but you can only hear one thing: your own rapid breathing. your hands tremble as you walk through the sea of people, dragging your suitcase, searching for a familiar face in the crowd, until you see him.
because you see him.
austin is there.
he's waiting in the arrivals area, standing next to a column, wearing a cap and a black mask that barely conceal the obvious: that even trying to blend in, he's still him. he's still unfairly tall and as beautiful as ever, and when your eyes meet, everything else disappears.
the air you've been holding in your lungs bursts out.
and you… run. you just… run.
you drop your suitcase, leaving it behind, hitting the ground with a thud. people part as you close the distance between you and him, tears welling up unbidden. austin opens his arms just as you throw yourself at him and wraps you in a grip that instantly melts you.
you bury your face in his neck.
he smells exactly the same: his favorite cologne, warm skin, and home.
austin says nothing at first. he just holds you, his body tense, his breath slightly trembling, as if he's been waiting for this for months. his hand slides down your back to your hair, stroking it in a slow, reverent gesture.
the hug is long, warm, and full of relief, like a breath after holding your breath for months. you cling to austin like a koala, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, tightly, not wanting to let go, because you don't want to. his strong arms hold you close, one around your waist and the other supporting your head, cradling you like someone holding their most precious treasure.
for the first time in months, you breathe. you truly breathe. without that weight, without that pressure.
"you did it." he whispers against your hair.
"i did it." you repeat, with a shaky giggle, still holding him.
you feel him chuckle softly, a broken smile, and then he pulls away just a little, enough to look into your eyes. his eyes, as blue as yours, are moist, shining under the white airport lights, and they are the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen, a work of art that everyone deserves to see and yet only you can have.
"i can't believe it." he says, gently shaking his head. "i thought i was dreamin'."
"you're not dreaming." you smile, trembling slightly in his strong arms. "i'm here."
"you're here." austin gently strokes your cheek with his thumb, his voice low, as if afraid of breaking something fragile. "you came."
you look down, and your smile becomes smaller, more tender. "to you."
he nods slowly, still looking at you. "you came to me." he pulls you close again, holding you tight. then, against your ear, he says; "you'll be okay here, do you hear me? i'm gonna take care of you."
you close your eyes, completely relieved to hear his words. you finally feel the weight of the past few months melt away, because here he is; austin, your home. no matter how many things are broken in your life: as long as austin is with you, nothing else matters.
austin doesn't let go of you, doesn't put you down, he holds you tightly against his body with one arm, curled up like a koala, and that's how he grabs your suitcase and leads you out of the airport. many people stare; perhaps because of the strange scene or perhaps because they recognize you. you don't know, nor do you care, you just let austin lead you to his car.
he puts you in the passenger seat, takes off his mask, and finally kisses you. slowly at first, as if he were afraid you were a dream, and then hungrily, with the desperation of someone who has waited too long. his hands, big and strong, slide down your waist, up under your blouse, caressing your warm back beneath his palms.
you kiss him back, showing a little more desperation than he does, because you're not good at controlling yourself with him, your shaking hands clutching his shirt as if the fabric could anchor you to him.
the kiss ends several seconds later, because you're in an airport and can't do anything, but you're still breathing the same air, face to face, panting, foreheads pressed against each other's as you smile, realizing how inevitable this was.
of course you'd come. you can't live without him.
seconds pass, maybe minutes, and his forehead remains pressed against yours, his warm, confident fingers still brushing your waist, as if he can't quite believe you're really here, with him, after months apart.
"you have no idea how happy i am right now." he murmurs, a smile barely curving his lips, his voice husky, still trembling with emotion.
"no. i know. i know because i feel it too." you reply, trying to sound light, even though your throat burns with all the things you haven't said for months.
"and now you're here." he murmurs, letting out a low, almost incredulous laugh. then he leans down again and kisses your cheek, your chin, the corner of your lips, as if he needs to memorize you quickly before someone interrupts. "you look thinner." he says, not intending to judge, just with that mixture of concern and tenderness that comes out without thinking.
"it's your fault." you reply, laughing, running your fingers along his neck, feeling his rapid pulse beneath his skin. "i wasn't sleepin', i wasn't eating... i just kept thinkin' about whether you'd still love me when we saw each other again."
he looks at you intently, without a second's hesitation. "don't you dare say somethin' like that again." his voice is low, firm, but also pained. his thumb brushes your cheek, and there's more vulnerability in his eyes than he usually shows. "i thought 'bout you every day." he whispers. "i don't care if you're different, if you're tired or broken, or if you hate me for leavin' you there. the only thing that matters is that you're here."
you smile slightly, swallowing the lump in your throat, and place a hand on his chest. "i don't hate you. i never could."
he nods, takes your hand, and kisses it.
"good. 'cause i'm not letting go of you again."
"i hope you don't."
"ready to go home?"
you let out a small laugh, feeling your throat sore from the tears you're trying to hold back. you close your eyes tightly and furrow your brow, your forehead still pressed against his.
finally, almost pleading, you nod: "yes..." you breathe in his scent. "take me home."
he looks at you for a moment, studying your expression, and then nods, kissing your forehead. he lets go of your hand, fastens your seatbelt, and closes your door.
the drive home is quiet, but a pleasant, peaceful silence, like the calm after a storm. you're sitting in the passenger seat, watching queensland pass by the window: the wide roads, the deep green of the trees, the sky so clear it looks freshly washed. you feel relaxed, carefree, though still with the feeling that this is unreal, a dream, because it's too good.
but that's the thing. it's real. austin, beside you, his hand on your thigh as if it belongs there, is real. you, in his car, is real. you're moving to australia, you're moving with your boyfriend, to another country, with him. you're finally making your own life.
"are you okay?" austin asks you at a stoplight, turning his head to give you his full attention.
you look away from the window and meet his gaze; his face, so, so beautiful, his clear, bright eyes fixed on you and only you. his hand on your thigh moves up and down, caressing your soft skin. you look at him silently for a moment, before leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the lips that makes him chuckle.
"is that a yes?" he asks, laughing, though he's already on his way to give you another kiss.
this time, his hand on your thigh grasps your neck and he kisses you again, this time a longer kiss that tastes of coffee and vanilla. your hand travels to his wrist and you let it rest there, relaxing, feeling his warm skin beneath your fingertips as he feels your pulse under his fingers, but you soon frown when you hear austin click your seatbelt open.
before you can ask anything, he easily pulls you out of your seat and settles you onto his lap, your back against the window. you let out a small gasp of surprise, but then quickly melt against his side, perched on his thigh, both hands resting in your lap and your boots brushing the edge of the passenger seat.
"is this okay?" you whisper nervously as he wraps his arms around you, one gripping the top of the steering wheel, the other using your shins as an armrest for the gearshift.
"sure." he replies with a smile, his lips brushing your forehead. "you deserve a special seat, don't ya think?"
the way austin looks at you makes a sigh escape your lips. there's something in those eyes, a quiet, almost reverential affection. he doesn't need to say i love you; it says it all about him, every gesture, every glance, and for the rest of the trip he holds you in his arms as if you were his most precious treasure.
when you arrive at the house, you feel a pang in your chest. it's not a mansion, nor a luxurious place. it's a bright house, with large windows and the smell of new wood, and the sound of the sea in the distance. and yet, the first thing you think is: home. and when you walk through it in silence, touching the decorations, looking at framed photos of the two of you, smelling the air, you know: this is your home.
austin watches you from the doorway, arms crossed, smiling slightly, and he's so beautiful.
you put your bag down on the sofa and turn to face him. suddenly, the silence changes: it becomes more intimate, more real. austin looks at you with that mixture of tenderness and wonder, as if he still can't quite believe you're standing in front of him.
"what do you think?"
"i think it smells like you." you say, with a small smile.
he chuckles and comes closer, putting his arm around your waist to pull you closer.
"is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"a really good thing." you look into his eyes, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. "it feels like... home."
he smiles slowly, as if those words are sinking deep inside him. his hands move calmly down your back, one up and one down, as if confirming that you're still there, tangible, real.
"home." he repeats softly, almost to himself, but without taking his eyes off you. "i never thought that word would have meaning again."
there's something gentle about his tone, a restrained tremor that compels you to look at him closely. his eyes, so blue and so full of light, hold you with a mixture of love and vulnerability that takes your breath away.
"again?" you ask in a whisper, gently stroking his jaw.
he nods, his thumbs toying with the hem of your blouse. "yes. with you."
he kisses you before you can say anything else. it's not a rushed or perfect kiss; it's slow, warm, as if time ceases to matter. you feel the brush of his nose against yours, his breath against your cheek, the slight tremor in his chest, his hands squeezing your waist and back, pulling you closer, as if he wants to tuck you inside his chest and never let you go.
when you separate, he rests his forehead against yours. "i've wanted this since i got here, you know? you, walking barefoot 'round here."
a soft laugh escapes you through your tears. "i didn't know you needed me so much."
"i've needed you every day. i've thought 'bout you every day. i've missed you every day. and now that you're here... what you gonna do?"
"stay."
"for how long?"
"as long as you want me."
austin smiles, that smile that shines in his eyes. "well, you'll stay here forever, then." he pauses. "i ain't lettin' you go nowhere."
and then he kisses you again.
it's a slow, tender kiss, full of that kind of calm you find when everything else ceases to matter. you close your eyes, and the sensation is like breathing again after a long time. austin holds you by the waist, sliding a hand up your back, pulling you closer, as if he needs to reassure himself that you're real.
you deepen the kiss, subconsciously testing his reaction. for a moment, you almost expect austin to stop you, because maybe he's tired from filming, but he doesn't. instead, he returns the kiss gently, molding your body to his. you feel his low growl, pulling you even closer, his hands going to your ass.
"aus..." you whisper, feeling your center ache just from the sensation of his hands on your ass, large, squeezing.
he smiles against your lips, sliding his hands under your shirt to grip your hips. he starts leading you backward toward his room, his mouth never leaving yours. he's already hard; you feel his cock pressing against your stomach.
"did you miss me, baby?" he asks between kisses.
you gasp against his lips at his question, feeling his hands on your narrow waist. "every day..." you whisper, and when you reach the room, you pull away slightly from his lips, just enough to look at him. no cap, no mask... and, god, he's so tall and so beautiful, and you've missed him so much...
you drop to your knees.
almost immediately, you feel his hands tangling in your long, dark hair, the same hair he loves to pull when he's fucking you. you start unbuckling his belt, hearing him let out a grunt.
"fuck." he hisses, throwing his head back as you free his pants.
when you free his cock, you almost moan, and you feel your center getting wet. it's big, thick, long, and its veins are more prominent when it's hard. the tip is slightly red and has precum on it. you swallow, staring at it eagerly. then, parting your lips slightly, you start pumping his length with your hand, feeling it throb between your fingers.
you hear him breathing heavily. his hips start to move a little, thrusting gently against your hand. "shit, babe..." he grunts, his voice even huskier, deeper, and you almost come just from hearing him.
you stick out your tongue and he lets out a deep, guttural groan as your tongue touches the sensitive tip of his cock. his fingers grip your hair, not pushing, but holding it as he watches you slowly bring it to your mouth.
he thrusts against your throat and you feel a slight gag, pressing your nose against his pelvis with tears in your eyes. but you don't pull away. instead, you relax your already sore throat and take him deeper, swallowing around the head of his cock. he lets out a loud groan, instinctively thrusting his hips forward.
you look at him with wide, blue eyes, filled with tears held back from taking his cock, and you see him clench his jaw when his eyes meet yours. he groans, his hips moving faster, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. your lips stretch around his thick member, emitting wet, lascivious sounds.
his member disappears into your mouth, and your cheeks hollow as you suck hard, your hands cupping the base of his cock, masturbating him while your mouth caresses the tip. you swallow his precum again and again, then take it back in until it touches the back of your throat.
apparently, he loses it, because then he grabs your hair tightly and starts fucking your mouth hard: deep thrusts that make you gag loudly around him. he throws his head back, groaning loudly as he penetrates your throat again and again. his testicles slap against your chin repeatedly.
"fuck, fuck, fuck..." he moans, thrusting his hips forward as he plunges his cock down your throat.
you struggle to breathe, your hands pressing weakly against his thighs, not to push him away, but to hold on. your throat convulses around him as you gag and choke on his cock. for a moment, he holds you there, his pelvis pressed against your nose, his cock lodged at the back of your throat.
and, god, don't you love it?
he starts moving his hips again, thrusting deep, deep into your throat. he hits the back of your throat so hard it hurts, but you moan and take it willingly.
austin groans loudly, thrusting his hips one last time as he holds your head against his pelvis. you feel his cock swell and throb as he comes hard down your throat, hot jets of semen shooting down your throat.
you almost come.
he holds your head as he finishes, his cock contracting and pulsing at the back of your throat. he watches from above as you swallow every last drop of his semen, sucking it greedily until it softens and sloshes out of your mouth with a wet pop.
you look at him, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. his cock is still semi-hard and glistening with your saliva. with his hand, he gently lifts your chin, making you look at him with tears streaming down your cheeks and swollen lips.
"good girl."
you melt at his praise, and he gently strokes your cheek.
"get up, sweetheart."
you stand slowly, your eyes still hungry. austin gestures with his fingers, and you raise your arms, letting him remove your blouse, leaving you in your bra. he looks at you silently for a moment, appreciating the bare skin of your stomach and gazing at your breasts, taut against the pink lace of your bra. his fingers slide down your abdomen to your back, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor before moving on to your shorts.
he unzips your shorts and lets them fall to your feet, leaving you standing in front of him in just your soaked panties. you watch him smile smugly at the dark, wet stain on the fabric. if you weren't so hungry, so needy, you'd roll your eyes.
"these too, love." he says, snapping the waistband and waiting for you to step out of them. "and your shoes."
you obey; you take off your panties and boots and step out of them, standing completely naked in front of him. your cheeks burn when you see him looking down at your body. his hungry eyes roam over your body with a mixture of desire and devotion; his gaze glides over your entire body, pausing for a moment on your breasts, your hard, pink nipples. your belly tenses as his eyes slide down the flatness of your stomach to your soft pussy. your long legs feel like jelly under austin's attention
you swallow. "you're still dressed."
he chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "you want me naked too, baby?"
you stare at him and, after a moment, you nod.
his eyes soften for a moment, his expression turning affectionate, and you watch silently as he begins to undress. he starts with his shirt; he takes it off, revealing his toned, lean torso. your eyes admire his chest and abdomen, and seconds later, when he's completely naked before you, you exhale. you gaze at him with a mixture of awe and reverence, admiring his body as if he were a god.
and he is. to you, he is.
austin is your god.
you take a breath and, still gazing at him as if he were some kind of god, you approach him, observing his entire body with an overwhelming mix of emotions: love, reverence, awe, desire. when you reach him, you place your hands on his chest, touching him gently, before tilting your head upward to meet his eyes.
he looks down at you, his hands automatically going to your waist as he takes in your small frame compared to his. you know he loves how tiny you are next to him. how easily he can lift you up or manipulate you.
"sweet girl..." he murmurs, looking at you affectionately, even tenderly. his fingers gently caress the soft skin of your waist. "bend over."
you don't hesitate for a second; you obey and bend over the bed without hesitation, presenting your bare ass to him. he caresses the curves of your buttocks before slapping one cheek hard, making you gasp. he kneads the reddened flesh before spreading your cheeks, spitting into your hole.
he slaps the other cheek, leaving the same mark. then, he spits into your pussy, and you feel the saliva drip from your lips. he traces your folds with his fingers, coating them with your wetness before bringing them to your asshole and inserting two fingers without warning.
you exhale, closing your eyes.
"have you been using this, babe?" he asks, sliding his fingers into your hole. you bite your lower lip and nod, moaning softly. you almost hear his smile as he says: "yeah? with the toys i gave you?" you nod again, before feeling him withdraw his fingers. without moving, your eyes follow him as he reaches for an oval anal plug on his nightstand. you swallow at the sight, and he repositions himself behind you. "we can't leave this beauty unused, can we?"
austin presses the cool, smooth plug against your tight back entrance, slowly pushing it inside you until it pops in, opening you up. he turns it on, and you feel the vibrations instantly, making you close your eyes and let out a soft moan. you hear him chuckle and give you another slap on the ass before grabbing his hard cock and rubbing it against your wet folds.
"you're gonna take my cock like a good girl, right?" he presses the tip against your entrance, waiting for your answer. you look at him over your shoulder, your cheeks flushed and your lips parted. "right, baby?"
you nod, pushing back against his cock. he grabs your hips and thrusts hard, filling you completely in one stroke. the sudden penetration makes the anal plug inside your asshole vibrate intensely, overwhelming your senses. austin starts fucking you brutally, using your pussy for his pleasure.
he penetrates you relentlessly, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. he grabs your hair in a fist and pulls your head back as he continues fucking you from behind. the anal plug drives you wild, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
you feel him slap your ass again, still fucking you; hard, fast, like a man on a mission, and the vibrations of the plug send shivers of pleasure through your entire body as your belly tightens and heats. you feel his fingers begin to rub circles on your clit and you cry out into the pillow, clawing at the sheets, but your body pushes back against him, begging for more.
"damn, look at you." austin sneers, thrusting harder, his hips slamming against yours as if he wants to leave marks, to brand you as his in every way. "what would people say if they saw you being a whore for my cock?"
austin has you pinned down, one hand gripping your hair and the other pressing you against the mattress as he penetrates you from behind. your cries are almost heart-wrenching; harsh, filling the room along with the sound of his hips slamming against your ass.
you try to keep up with him, your cheek pressed against the sheets. "fuck, you're so big..."
"say it louder." he grunts, pressing your face into the mattress with one hand and gripping your hip with the other. he thrusts into you hard, mercilessly, watching you crumble beneath him.
"you're so— big— a-us..." you say, your voice shaking, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.
"that's my girl." he snarls, leaning down to bite your shoulder, leaving a mark. "pain is good, it ain't? you like it."
you nod desperately, your moans breaking, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming. "yes— fuck— yes..."
"of course you do..." you can hear the smirk in his voice. "such a good slut."
your body clenches around him at the degradation. "you... you're everything."
"everything." he almost growls, thrusting harder, his ego swelling with each desperate moan that escapes your lips. "i'm everything to you. you left all your shit behind and came crawling to me, didn't you? such a obedient little thing."
"yes..." you cried, your voice cracking into a sobbing moan, your hips shaking as orgasm washes over you. "yes— aus, yes, yes..."
his hands on you, his dominance over you, his words, his big, thick cock in your weeping cunt, the anal plug—it all brings you to the edge; your hips shake violently as you climax, your cunt clinging tightly to him, to his cock. your screams burst from your lips uncontrollably, sharp and broken, as your whole body shudders, crumbling beneath austin, collapsing on the bed.
but austin isn't finished. he never is.
before you can catch your breath, austin pulls you back by the waist, forcing you onto all fours again, and thrusts hard into you once more. at the sudden intrusion, you gasp, almost sobbing at the overwhelming sensitivity. the plug in your hole vibrates, burning your sensitive walls with that mixture of pleasure and pain that becomes almost unbearable with austin using your weeping pussy.
"wait— please—"
"shut up." he hisses, thrusting into you hard, mercilessly, seeking his own release that seems far from coming. "you can take it. you always can. i trained you for this."
your arms give way, your cheek sinks into the mattress, your saliva and tears mingling on the white sheets as he slams you against the mattress. you tremble, you whimper, every nerve in your body burning, both your holes burning, your body taking him. your legs tremble from the effort of staying upright.
"turn it off..." you groan.
"no, i don't think so."
then he wraps his arm around you, pinning you in a headlock, pressing his bicep hard against your neck as his chest crushes you against the bed, with no way out now that you're trapped beneath him, his full weight on top of you, his cock still deep inside, the plug vibrating nonstop.
at this point, he's not even penetrating you anymore, just thrusting, rubbing his hips against your ass, using your wet, ravaged cunt as if you're only there to satisfy his hunger. his hot, ragged breath brushes against your ear, every moan and grunt vibrating against his skin.
"austin." you sob.
"that's it." he hisses. his arm remains clamped around your throat, keeping you still and upright as his cock penetrates you from behind. "take it like my whore. that's what you are, right?"
you nod as your second orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train: trembling, writhing, sobbing his name into the pillow as your pussy clenches around him so tightly he groans too… though he doesn’t come. not yet. not then, not even now—when you’re so soaked and overstimulated beneath him—does he pull out. he just stays there, still inside you, brushing your hair away from your face, whispering in your ear.
“you did so good for me, baby. so good.”
you moan softly, squeezing your eyes shut. “please turn it off… please, please…”
you feel austin shift and the vibrations stop. you gasp, relaxing, your holes still plugged and his body holding you in place, but at least nothing is moving anymore, nothing is vibrating. austin becomes still again, above you, holding your head between his biceps, and you feel his lips leave a soft kiss on your neck and then on your head.
"that's alright." he says, kissing your shoulder, still hard as a rock inside you. "but i'm not finished yet, baby, so let me just..."
austin doesn't finish his sentence, but roughly flips you over, turning you onto your back as if you weighed nothing. his large, warm hands grip your waist, holding you against the mattress, and he keeps thrusting. you blink slowly through tears, your lips parted, gasping, your chest heaving.
your clit, swollen and aching, throbs painfully and shudders with every thrust of his hips. your breasts bounce with each rough stroke, perky and glistening with sweat, and austin's hands move from your waist to grab your breasts, squeezing them between his fingers as he fucks you hard.
"god, your tits are so perfect. who do they belong to, sweet baby?"
your answer escapes your lips almost in a sob. "y—you, aus, they're yours, i'm yours, i'm— all yours."
"damn right." he smiles, dark, provocative, even a little mocking. "all mine." his hands use your breasts to pull you toward him each time he moves his hips, his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. "my little slut." the words come from his mouth almost tenderly. "you look so fuckin' good like this... i wanna fill ya up, make you round."
his words, his hands, his body, his relentless cock, the plug in your hole, the image of you pregnant—it's all too much, and you can't stop yourself; you start to cry. tears are released, sliding down your cheeks. it's too much.
"do it... p—please, do it..." you sob, clutching the sheets with your hands. your body shudders with every thrust, overstimulated to the point of delirium.
"look at me."
you obey, your gaze unfocused, your eyes watering, your pupils dilated, your lips parted as you moan. he kisses you then, with longing and desire, stifling your moans as his free hand delivers a sharp slap to one of your breasts, making you shudder. the sharp pain becomes a deep sting as he squeezes your flesh possessively, his tongue sliding between your lips to taste your tears.
"i need— oh... baby, please, i can't—" you moan, almost sobbing as his hips thrust into you again.
"you can." he grunts. "you always can. now just take it."
you moan loudly, your head falling to the side, overwhelmed. your thighs tremble, your belly tightens, your clit aches, and you feel too full with both holes plugged.
austin hovers over you, his palm cradling the side of your flushed, tear-streaked face as if you were made of glass.
"you're still so tight." he says gently, as if speaking to a child. "look at your pussy, baby." you feel his other hand cradle your aching clit. "it's crying. the poor little thing is exhausted and still hungry."
salty drops, tears slide freely down your face as your thighs shake uncontrollably.
"jesus." he curses with a dark chuckle, staring at you without moving; his eyes rake over your body, the wetness in your pussy, the sweat on your breasts, the tears on your face. "you look so beautiful like this."
"it's too much..." you whisper tearfully.
he stares at you for a moment, still cradling your face gently and tenderly, before nodding. "i know. but you don't want me to stop, do you? not really. you like this." his voice is gentle. "i know you do. now be a good girl and keep moaning nicely f'r me."
you let out a sob, but you stop resisting. after all, you don't want him to stop, not really, and he knows it, because he wastes no time before he starts fucking you again, hard, strong, pounding your cervix with every thrust, and all that comes out of your throat are moans and cries, the overwhelming pleasure almost tearing you apart.
"well, aren't you pathetic?" his words degrade you, but you moan and nod, feeling his cock enter your cunt again and again, filling you, stretching you, sliding between your tight walls and hitting your sweet spot every time. "look at you, takin' what i give you like a whore. you look like a stupid bitch in heat."
your third orgasm hits you like a truck: violent, sharp, tensing your entire lower body as you arch your back off the bed. you come with a scream so piercing it makes him groan, your pussy tightening like a screw around his cock, dripping and crying as he slams into you again and again, tearing you open, ripping you apart, manipulating your nerves and clouding your senses.
finally, austin comes hard, thrusting clumsily and roughly into you with loud moans and grunts. his fingers press you against the mattress as he empties inside you, shooting thick, warm jets of semen into your body. all you can do is cling to his arm as he fills you, shuddering at the sensation of being completely claimed. his hand, around your neck, tightens even more as he finishes, cutting off your air for a few seconds, before letting go as he collapses on top of you.
your face is flushed and streaked with tears, your legs tremble slightly, your holes are sore from all the attention, your whole body feels hot, and your nipples are so hard and sensitive, it's almost painful. you feel worn out, exhausted, sore, and yet, you feel better than ever. used in the best way by the only person you want to. austin didn't stop until he got everything out of you, and that, somehow, makes you proud; proud that you gave him everything, that you gave him what he taught you to give him.
austin doesn't pull out immediately; instead, he stays inside you, holding you tightly, as if afraid you might faint at any moment, even though you both know that won't happen. he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, kissing your lips tenderly and carefully.
"y'alright?" he asks, his blue eyes searching for yours. you nod silently, gazing at him sleepily and contentedly as your slender fingers caress his face. "god damn it." he exhales.
he slowly pulls away from you, withdrawing from your pussy. you immediately feel his cum beginning to slowly seep between your lips and gasp as you feel him remove the plug from your hole, though a small smile forms on your lips as you watch him lean in to give you another kiss. he smiles back, sweetly, and gives you a playful smack on the ass before rolling onto his back, pulling you close so your head rests on his chest.
he wipes away your tears with his thumbs and a reverent look, kissing your cheeks one last time before pulling you back into his arms. "you did so well, baby. so, so well. you're such a good girl. my best girl."
you melt at his praise and snuggle closer to him, finding your place in his arms. your face buries against his chest, and like a little girl, you stay there, nestled against him, seeking his warmth and feeling his arms around you, holding you close and safe against his body. you vaguely feel him tuck the covers in and sigh contentedly.
you fall asleep before you know it.
when you wake up, the room smells of warm skin, perfume, and silence. outside, the australian night is calm, with the distant chirping of crickets and the occasional car on the street, but inside, all is silent except for their breathing. you lie face down, your hair falling over your bare back, your breasts pressed against the mattress. you're eighteen, but in this moment, your body still aching from austin's intensity, you feel older, as if you've crossed an invisible threshold.
he's beside you, half-lying, his head resting on his hand, already awake; looking at you as if he can't believe you're really here. those blue eyes that always seem to undress you more than his own hands. austin has this way of looking at you that makes you nervous, as if instead of eyes, he has x-ray vision that pierces your soul and your deepest thoughts. it's not just desire you see in his eyes, but devotion, an infatuation so obvious that sometimes you want to laugh, sometimes you want to cry, and sometimes you simply don't know what to do but let yourself be lulled by him.
"why are you lookin' at me like that?" you break the silence, turning to face him with a mischievous little smile to meet his blue eyes that seem to sparkle even in the dim light.
he looks down, as if trying to hold back his thoughts, and then meets your eyes again. "because you're... too much." his voice is husky, low, beautiful. "and i still don't understand how the hell i ended up with you."
"hmm..." you murmur, pretending to think. "let me think... oh, yes! i was behind you for months until you noticed me."
"baby, you were sixteen."
"so what? legal for you."
he laughs. "still, i think you're givin' yourself too little credit; i noticed you the moment i first saw ya."
"yeah, but you weren't gonna do nothin' 'bout it, so i had to." you reply cheekily, reaching out for a quick kiss. "that skirt worked really well. and my tits."
"stop talkin' 'bout your tits." he laughs, letting his forehead fall against yours.
you let out a soft giggle, feeling his forehead against yours. "what? you love my tits."
"yeah, in my hands or in my mouth, but not when i'm tryin' to be romantic. it's not romantic to mention them when we're havin' a moment. we're havin' a moment."
"very well." you look up at the ceiling. "you're not sleepin' on them tonight."
"okay, that's rude." he points at you. "they're my girls."
you frown and open your mouth, offended, looking back at him. "excuse me? what about me?"
"you're my best girl." austin tells you in a low voice with a playful smile, but with disarming sincerity.
as soon as you hear his words, and the deep, husky tone in which he says them, you lower your gaze, a little flushed, though you try to hide it by biting your lower lip. of course, you know you can't hide your blush when his smile widens, proud of making you blush.
"you're an idiot, you know that?" you say, giving him a gentle push in the chest.
"an idiot? i don't know what you're talkin' 'bout. i'm perfect."
austin collapses onto his back, the sheets tangling around his long legs. it's almost ridiculous to see him like this, so big, so confident on screen, but next to you he just seems like a boy you want to hug and kiss until he falls asleep on your chest.
you roll your eyes, but you can't hold back the joyful laughter that rises in your throat.
"sure, mr. elvis."
this time, it's austin who blushes, and you smile triumphantly as he laughs, somewhere between embarrassed and amused, his cheeks flushed.
"babe, don't call me that when we're in bed. it's weird."
a mischievous smile forms on your lips as you look at him with a mixture of amusement and challenge. "weird... or hot?"
austin looks at you, his eyes narrowed, a disbelieving laugh escaping his throat. "god, you're gonna kill me before filming is over."
your smile softens.
"trust me; the last thing on my mind when you're fucking me is my grandpa. i'm pretty busy thinkin' 'bout your magic cock."
"my magic cock?" austin asks, barely containing his laughter.
"the best cock i've ever had, yeah."
"baby, it's the only cock you've ever had."
"that doesn't change the fact that it's the best. and magic."
"i can't believe we're havin' this conversation."
"you're smiling too much, so i think you like it."
"i have reasons to smile." he replies in a husky voice, that voice that makes your knees tremble even when you're already lying down.
you look at him silently for a moment, letting yourself be mesmerized by his beautiful eyes. whenever he looks at you, he makes you feel like the only person in the world, and at the same time makes you feel so small.
exhaling silently, you pull the white sheet up to your chin, as if you suddenly need to cover yourself, even though you're quite aware that austin already knows your body by heart.
"like what reasons?" you ask in a low murmur.
austin reaches out and gently pulls back the fabric to reveal your bare shoulder.
"like havin' the most beautiful girl in the world in my bed, after fucking her until she cried."
your cheeks burn.
"exaggerated." is all you manage to say.
"not even a little."
you wrinkle your nose, closing your eyes for a moment, before turning and resting your elbow on the mattress, propping your head in your hand. you look at him directly, straight on, despite the flush in your cheeks. what you love most about these nights isn't the obvious, the physical, but what comes after: the shared silence, the silly laughter, the feeling of being part of a universe that exists only between the two of you.
slowly, you raise a hand to touch his face. you run your fingertips along his cheek, barely touching his jawline, down to his chin, your fake nails gently brushing against his skin. under your touch, he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you caress him. you hear his calm breathing, the rustle of the sheets, the peace in the air.
"i like it when you look at me like that." he says, opening his eyes. his blue eyes immediately captivate you.
"like what?"
"like you know somethin' i don't."
you shrug, as if you don't know what to say. "maybe i do."
he raises an eyebrow. "and what is it?"
"that you're the most beautiful man i've ever seen." you reply, without hesitation.
austin laughs again, but this time he seems a little embarrassed. he brings his hand to his face, trying to hide his smile, but you slowly move it away, looking at him again with a tenderness that almost hurts. you continue tracing invisible lines on his skin, touching him with a reverent gentleness, as if you're afraid of breaking something sacred.
"you know what?" austin murmurs, with that voice and accent you've heard hundreds of times on old recordings. "if you keep lookin' at me like that, i'm gonna have t' marry ya."
"maybe you should."
for a moment, austin is silent. the smile that played on his lips fades. he stops, and you see him blink, as if your answer—so simple, so direct—has completely disarmed him. his hand, which had been resting on the sheet, moves slowly until it finds yours. he doesn't take it completely, only brushes your fingers with the tips of his own, in an almost shy gesture, though his expression is thoughtful.
finally, austin sighs and nods, as if he's made a decision.
"give me a few days."
you blink, confused. "what?"
"now let's take a shower." he smiles again and lifts you out of bed, carrying you in his arms toward the bathroom. "i'll take you out t' dinner."
"pizza?" you ask, excitedly, putting an arm around his neck.
summary. when austin sees you with a baby in your arms to film an elvis scene, he knows it: he wants you with your belly full of him. and he wants it now.
starring. austin butler x priscilla actress!reader
note. i decided to set this during the filming of elvis to make it a little more interesting and because i can't get over this era.
the film set is warmly lit, with the lights carefully placed to evoke the atmosphere of a 1970s home. there's a crib, a rocking chair in the corner, prop toys, baby clothes folded on the dresser against the wall, and baz giving quick instructions between sips of coffee and puffs on a cigarette.
austin doesn't listen to anything he says. he can't. not when you're dressed in that pink babydoll that barely covers your beautiful ass. not when you're holding a baby that should be his. not when you look so pretty.
he steps further into the nursery, dressed as elvis, with slicked-back hair and a wardrobe impeccable. he's gone through a thousand rehearsals of his accent, gestures, and movements, but none of that makes him as nervous as what he sees right now: you, his girlfriend, transformed into priscilla, with a baby in your arms.
his heart tightens in a way no camera can capture. the way you hold the baby—tenderly, with such natural care, as if you were born to do it—is tearing him apart inside. austin feels the air in the room grow thick, his concentration slipping through his fingers.
it's too much.
he watches you gently rock the tiny baby, murmuring to her in that low voice only he usually hears at night, and the world around him ceases to matter. it's not the spotlights, the cameras, or the script. it's you. it's the sigh of you with a baby in your arms, so delicate, so beautiful, so fucking perfect that all he can think is: i need to get her pregnant.
he watches you, unable to move from where he stands, holding his breath slightly. every gesture you make, every smile you give the baby, is driving him wild. It's not just that you look beautiful; it's that he sees you in a role he'd never allowed himself to imagine: you with a child, caring for it, loving it, being a mother.
his heart is pounding, and he can't help but imagine it: that little girl in your arms would be his daughter, that baby you're smiling at would be his, you would be the mother of his child, his children. many children.
his breath catches slightly. he forces himself not to show it on his face, because baz is watching him. but inside, he's on the verge of despair. his fingers clench, hidden in the sides of his pants.
"austin, remember: this part is intimate. it's not about elvis the superstar. this is just elvis being a father." baz says, in his energetic, detail-oriented way, walking around the set with headphones around his neck and a coffee in his hand.
austin nods, trying to focus, but his gaze inevitably returns to you. and no, it's not just priscilla he sees, it's you. his girl. his wife. his love. the person who, just by smiling at him while cradling the baby, is completely destroying him.
in his head, the scene splits into two realities: the fictional one, where elvis and priscilla are lisa marie's parents... and the real one, where austin wants nothing more than to skip all the hours, all the scenes, everything, to take you home and make you the mother of his child.
he runs his hand through his hair, trying to calm the heat rising through his body. damn, he's desperate. he wants this so much it almost hurts. he wants to take you in his arms and tell you that he wants to be a father too, with you, now, that he can't wait any longer.
the baby in your arms babbles, and austin swallows. a sound so small, yet so powerful, that he imagines it multiplied: what would your real child sound like? what would you look like, with your rounded belly, walking through the house he would buy for the two of you?
his thoughts become tangled. he sees you laughing, exhausted, with your hair disheveled, holding a newborn as he arrives with flowers and toys. he sees you in bed, caressing your belly while he kisses your navel. he sees you in front of the mirror, wearing loose clothing, blushing because your body is changing… and he's proud, so damn proud, to know that it's his.
austin approaches the two of you and leans slightly toward the baby to get a better look at her face, but soon his attention is drawn back to you. you tilt your head up so you can look up at him, because you're so small, and then you smile at him with that mix of sweetness and shyness as the warm light illuminates your angelic face, and he feels a strange warmth in his chest… and elsewhere too.
damn, he thinks. it's supposed to be a tender, family moment… and instead, all he can imagine is his own daughter in your arms while you smile at him like that. imagining you pregnant, taking care of his child, laughing for him… the desire becomes almost unbearable.
"you look good with a baby." he murmurs softly, his mouth dry.
you smile, sweet, a light blush on your pale cheeks. "do you think so?"
he nods, staring at you. "i do."
you're beautiful.
and he's devastated.
because seeing you like this ignites an instinct he didn't even know was so close to the surface. it's not just tenderness. it's not just desire. it's a primal hunger, a vertigo in his stomach: he wants this with you. he wants to see your belly grow, feel you lean against him at night, kiss your forehead while you complain of tiredness. he wants to see you in his home, in his bed, carrying his baby.
"you're doing too well." he murmurs, barely audible, leaning into your ear while smiling at the rest of the team, as if they were simple words of encouragement between colleagues.
you glance at him, with that sparkle in your eyes that drives him crazy, and answer in a low voice:
"she's just a baby. it's not hard."
it's not hard. those words pierce through him. austin clenches his jaw to keep from laughing, because what he means is: yes, it is. it's hard when all i think about is you, holding our real child.
the casting assistant approaches to take the little thing away, but the baby girl won't let go of the fabric of your babydoll, clinging with her tiny fingers. austin feels his chest swell with absurd pride.
"i think she doesn't to want to let go of you." someone from the crew tells you, in a light tone.
austin laughs along with the others, but inside he thinks: of course not. because you're perfect. because you were born for this.
after adjusting the baby's clothes and the blanket she's wrapped in, the assistant places her back in your arms, and austin stays with you in silence for a moment. there are people around, yes, and there's a camera filming behind the scenes, yes, but he's reached the point where he doesn't care.
if people find out—and they will—he doesn't care. you already have his ring, you already have his last name—even if almost no one knows it yet—, and soon he will give you his baby. and the rest can go fuck themselves.
in front of him, you move smoothly and gracefully; your blue eyes, framed by eyeliner, gaze down at the baby in your arms with a sweet, maternal gaze that drives him wild, all while you gently rock her, cooing.
and then, unable to resist, he leans in close enough to whisper to you:
"you'd look so pretty pregnant."
you blink up, looking at him in surprise, your eyes sparkling as if you weren't sure you'd heard right. and austin smiles, with that mix of cheekiness and vulnerability that only comes out with you.
"austin..." you say softly, with a sweet warning, asking him not to start there, in front of everyone.
but he can't stop himself. not after seeing you like this.
"i'm serious." his words are a firm murmur, buried in his throat. "you would look really pretty pregnant."
you try to hide your smile, biting your lip as you give him that quick, nervous glance, because anyone could approach at any moment and there's literally a camera filming everything.
"don't say things like that here."
"why not?" austin tilts his head, his fingers barely brushing the baby's head in your arms. "you're so beautiful with her... and you would be even more so with our baby."
the word our hangs between you two. you stare at him silently, your cheeks burning, your eyes looking up at him with that mix of longing and innocence that drives him wild. and he feels his pants tighten as he imagines himself bending you over one of the pieces of furniture and making you take it.
"austin." baz's voice snaps him out of his trance, with that australian accent. "are you ready?"
austin swallows, regains his professional smile, and nods, placing a kiss on your forehead before stepping back.
the script says he's supposed to smile softly, kiss the baby's forehead, look at priscilla tenderly, tell her he'll put lisa to sleep while she rests. he does, easily. but deep down, austin fights the urge, the visceral desire to turn all of this into a confession: to whisper in your ear, no matter the crowded set, that he can't wait any longer, that he wants you full of him, round and shiny with pregnancy, that he wants you his in every way.
and that he wants it now.
filming ends late at night. the set is enveloped in that strange silence that only exists when everyone leaves, when the lights go out and the echo of voices still floats in the air. austin emerges from his trailer, still trapped in his body. he spent the whole day holding back, hiding what he felt every time he looked at you with the baby in your arms.
the fresh air hits him, but it doesn't calm him down. he walks slowly, as if he doesn't know where he's going, even though he actually knows exactly where he's headed: his steps are leading him to your trailer. there are no guards on watch, no technicians running back and forth, no cameras. just the night and the feeling that if he doesn't speak now, he'll go crazy.
he doesn't knock. he knows he doesn't need to—not him—and when the door opens, there you are.
you'e no longer priscilla, nor the young mother with a baby in her arms. you're you. just you. no false eyelashes or elaborate hairstyles, your face half-cleansed, still removing your makeup in front of the mirror. and what hits austin hardest is seeing you in one of his hoodies, huge on your small frame, enveloping you as if you were swimming inside the fabric.
god. you're only nineteen.
nineteen, austin thinks, and feels a pang in his chest. you're still so young, such a child compared to him, and at the same time… nothing in the world can stop the fierce desire that consumes him. that instinct that had been haunting him all day returns with even greater force, now that he has you so close, so natural, so much his.
he closes the door behind him and stares at you for a second too long. you notice it, of course, because you know him better than anyone.
"what's wrong?" you ask, in that calm, soft voice, so sweet, so like hers, raising an eyebrow while you continue to hold the cotton ball to your cheek.
he doesn't answer.
"satnin?"
hearing the nickname, he blinks and swallows, taking a step toward you.
"i can't get it out of my head, you know?" he says, directly, without beating around the bush.
you blink, leaving the cotton ball on the vanity. your blue eyes look at him through the mirror. "what?"
"today. you. with the baby." he answers in that voice, that southern accent he can't shake anymore, as he takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed.
you sigh, smiling faintly, as if you knew sooner or later he'd say it. "aus... it was a scene."
he shakes his head, his lips forming a brief grimace. "no. not for me." he murmurs.
your eyes meet in the mirror.
austin stops behind you, watching you remove your mascara, and the sigh splits him in two. he doesn't need more embellishments, more costumes, more lights, he doesn't want that. he wants you like this, with your hair a little messy, your skin clean, your comfortable clothes that smell like him.
he leans forward, just enough so that his reflection is a breath away from yours.
"i went crazy." he confesses in a husky murmur, staring at you through the mirror. "all day, every time i saw you with that baby girl in your arms, i was lost. i didn't see priscilla, you know? you're not her, you're better than her. i... i didn't see the stupid scene, i only saw you. and i thought... god, i thought you'd look even more beautiful pregnant."
you tense a little; he can feel it, but you don't interrupt, so he continues.
"it's crazy." he continues, laughing humorlessly, clenching his fists on the vanity table. "i know, baby. 'cause i know how young you are, i know. i think about it and tell myself i should calm down, that it's not the time. but i can't help it, doll. i can't." his eyes shine, and it's not just desire; it's pure vulnerability. "i..." he looks at your body, then back into your eyes. "i wanna see you with my child inside you. i want it so much it hurts."
you slowly turn in your chair to face him. you're wrapped in your hoodie, your legs tucked beneath you, so small and fragile that austin's breath catches in his throat.
"aus…" you begin, as if searching for a way to stop him.
but he kneels in front of you, holding your hands tightly, not letting you look away.
"listen to me." his voice lowers, almost a plea. "it's not just desire, okay, baby? it's-it's not just that turns me on to see you like that. it's that i feel as if it's... i don't know, inevitable. as if your body and mine were destined to create something together."
he watches you swallow, your eyes shining, confused between fear and tenderness.
austin lowers his forehead to rest against your cold, pale knees. he needs to cling to you physically so he doesn't break.
"i wanna do it with you. i wanna give you a child. i want you to be the mother of my children, as many as you want."
you gently stroke his dark hair, your thin, cold fingers running through his short locks, trembling with each caress.
"i'm..." you stop, but then you try again: "i'm nineteen, austin."
he lifts his head, his eyes desperate when they find you. "i know. and that's why i feel like a fucking crazy. and i know people will talk, they'll think shit about me, about us, they'll say i'm a fucking predator. i know. but fuck them. because i love you, and i know i've never wanted anything in life like this."
the silence thickens.
you look at him for a long moment, your breathing ragged, before pulling him towards you, wrapping the hoodie you're wearing around him. and in that hug, austin knows that, soon, very soon, his vision will be fulfilled. he'll see you with his child inside. and it will be the most perfect image of his life.
the clock strikes almost one in the morning when you finally arrive at the apartment. the silence of the city contrasts with the storm inside austin. the two of you had spent the entire day surrounded by lights and cameras, but nothing had exhausted him more than the struggle with his own thoughts: that constant vision of you, pregnant with his child.
you take the elevator together, without speaking, tired after a long day and comfortable with the shared silence. he hugs you, putting an arm around your shoulders, making you rest your forehead against his chest as the elevator ascends.
when you finally arrive at his apartment, you take off your shoes, leave your bag on the couch, and go straight to the kitchen for a glass of water. austin watches you from the doorway, his heart pounding.
the hoodie you're still wearing is his, and it reaches mid-thigh. your long, dark hair is free, falling over your back, your skin clean and fresh from the quick shower on set. you're no longer priscilla, you're no longer the king's wife, you're you. his wife. and, to austin, you're infinitely more beautiful. just like that, without extravagant hairstyles and so much makeup, you're perfect.
he approaches slowly, as if afraid of scaring you, because he already has, though not intentionally. still, he can't resist the urge to touch you. he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pressing your back to his chest, and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet, soft scent. you sigh, resting your free hand on his forearm.
"you're restless." you murmur, with a tired smile.
"i can't stop thinking about it." he admitted, his voice rasping.
"again?" you barely turn your face to look at him.
austin nods, not letting go. "the whole way back, every minute, all i could think about was you with a baby inside."
after a moment, you place the glass on the counter, turning in his arms. you rest your hands on his chest and stare up at him, as if trying to gauge the extent of his obsession.
"you know it's not that simple, austin."
"i know." he closes his eyes for a second, trying to control himself. but when he opens them, all they reflect is the burning truth of his desire. "but tell me you didn't think about it. tell me that, when you were holding her in your arms, you didn't imagine what it would be like if she were ours."
you open your mouth to respond, but not a word comes out; no protest, no rejection. and that silence, short and tense, is enough to ignite him even more.
austin uses his hands on your waist to lift you up, sitting you on the counter, and positions himself between your legs. he kisses you with an urgency he's been suppressing for hours, and you respond with a low moan, gripping your shoulders as you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his already hard cock against your core. his hands are everywhere; on your waist, your thighs, your ass. he grips hard, leaving his imprints on your pale skin.
"aus…" you try to say, but he doesn't let you continue.
"let me make you a mom." he whispers against your mouth, desperately, rubbing against you. "let me give you what i saw today."
for a moment, silence covers everything. all you hear is his labored breathing against yours, the uneven pounding of his heart that you can almost feel in your own chest.
"austin…" you repeat, barely a whisper. he doesn't know if you're trying to stop him or if, deep down, you're asking him not to stop.
he lowers his forehead to rest against yours. his voice shakes a little, rough, laden with something more than desire.
"i'm not saying this on impulse," he murmurs, his eyes closed. "i'm sayin' it because i felt it. because when i saw you with her, so sweet, so natural… i-i understood that's what i want with you. everything. anything." he places a soft kiss on your forehead and, against your skin, murmurs again: "let me give you a baby. let me show you how much you mean to me."
suddenly, he feels your hands searching for him; brushing against his neck, his hair, your slender fingers tangling through his short locks. your other hand slides up to his face, caressing the soft skin of his cheek. for a moment, you just stay silent, saying nothing, just looking at him; his eyes, his face.
then, gently, like someone surrendering to something inevitable, you say:
"there are two months left until filming ends..." you pause for a moment. you lick your lips and take a breath before speaking again. "maybe... maybe no one will notice if it happens now."
your words are like pure gasoline. austin gasps, incredulous, and smiles against your lips.
"are you saying yes?"
you nod, shyly, but with conviction. you know what you want.
he stays still for a moment, his gaze clouded by a mixture of surprise and desire. you want this; you want to have his baby. his hand moves from your waist to your stomach, spreading possessively over your flat belly. he's never had unprotected sex. he's always been cautious. but right now you're offering him your womb, your body, unprotected.
he swallows hard and lowers his voice. "will you give it to me? your body? will you give it to me for my baby?"
his words make you blush even more, and your cheeks are tinged with an adorable shade of pink that makes you look identical to sin incarnate. despite the shyness and embarrassment you're clearly feeling, you nod again, looking at him with sparkling eyes.
he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you to the bedroom, almost groping you, still kissing you. he lays you down on the bed and leans over you, contemplating you for a second in silence.
you look... stunning. unreal. with your black hair cascading around your head like an angel's halo, your cheeks flushed and sweet, your eyes shining as they gaze at him longingly.
you're a sin, and they could condemn austin, because he will be your eternal slave.
"you're so young, so beautiful..." he says with a broken breath. "and yet, all i want is to fill you with me."
you caress his cheek tenderly, your eyes soft and your cheeks flushed. "then do it."
austin closes his eyes, letting out a grateful murmur, almost like a prayer.
"i will." he promises, resting his forehead against yours.
he kisses you like a hungry man, taking just enough initiative to make you shudder audibly under his control. that awakens something fiery in his chest—that little sound you make shyly—and he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to his body even though there's no space left between you.
with a speed that almost makes him proud, you slip your tongue into his mouth, demanding more like the greedy little thing you are. just as he had taught you. the thrill of the thought leaves him breathless as he holds your neck firmly and tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss as you desire. you have the audacity to laugh between his lips, but his tongue absorbs it and transforms it into a dreamy moan, while your pretty fingers easily unbutton his pants.
fuck, he's been hard all day. he needs to bury his cock inside you or he will go crazy.
all he needs to do is get his hands on you the right way to pull you out of his hoodie. with his tongue in your mouth, he takes the initiative to slide the soft, padded fabric upward, before pulling back so he can pull it over your head, exposing your bare breasts in the air-conditioned room. he takes a moment to gaze at them properly, and his hands move toward them, tracing the round, pretty skin and the soft nipples throbbing in the cool air.
"fuck, baby…" he groans, cupping your perky breasts tenderly before giving them a squeeze.
he leans in to take one of them into his mouth, licking your nipple before taking it into his warm, wet mouth for a voracious suck. he feels your back arch, pushing your breasts closer to him, and austin rolls your sweet pearl between his teeth, listening to you gasp. he switches sides, showing the same tenderness to your other breast as well, before pulling away with a wet pop. without looking away, he gently caresses them with his hands, watching how shiny and beautiful they look covered in his saliva.
"you like them?" you ask sweetly.
his eyes meet yours for a moment. "you already know that." he looks back at your breasts, never stopping his caresses, feeling them soft and round in his hands. "god, i can't wait to see them full of milk."
"yeah?" you sigh. "are you gonna drink from them?"
fuck.
"oh, i will." he moves a hand from your chest to grab your face in an almost painful grip. holding your sweet face in one hand, pinching your cheeks just enough to keep you in place, he speaks directly to you in a low whisper: "every day. and you'll love it, won't you? you're so naughty, angel."
the sly smile you give him back is incredibly revealing, as if you're enjoying the teasing, the dirty talk, the fact that a man who has authority over you is calling you naughty. austin isn't surprised: he knows you're shy, almost innocent, but you're not a saint.
austin gives you another kiss on the lips before stepping back, getting out of bed to take off his shirt and pants. meanwhile, wearing only your pink lace panties, you kneel in the center of the bed, waiting for him with wide eyes and an innocent, almost childlike expression. when he's completely naked, he kneels on the mattress and moves closer to you, reaching out to pinch a nipple before his lips find yours again.
you moan into his mouth; your soft hands cup his face as he kisses you like a starving man, adam in his deepest desperation. with his tongue in your mouth and his hands on your waist, he guides you until you're lying beneath him. his hands trace your body from where he kneels between your silky legs, feeling every curve and line, down to your hips and the waistband of your tiny panties.
he traces the edge as he whispers to you: "do you want my baby?"
your head falls back against the mattress with a sharp moan at his suggestion, his relentless teasing, the way he utters obscene words with such grace. he smiles and pulls your panties down your legs, watching as the lace clings to your pussy for a second longer because of how wet you are before it comes away. he tosses them to the side of the bed and then spreads your legs to see you lying spread-eagled before him like a feast.
you're glistening; wet, swollen, and ready, completely shaved. austin has never mind women with some hair, but there's something about your perfectly smooth skin staring back at him—swollen, pink, and moist—that arouses him intensely. just like the first time he took you.
he spreads your pussy open between his thumb and index finger and leans in to spit on you before pulling his hand back and giving your clit a hard slap. you let out an obscene moan—a mix of something childish and something provocative—writhing on the bed because you're so sensitive.
he smiles to himself and moves up to rub the head of his cock against your wet entrance, teasing you both. he's so big that just the tip opens you up slightly.
"you'll look beautiful with a big baby bump."
austin thrusts into you with exasperating slowness, raising his hand to wrap around your throat and hold you as he fills you inch by inch. he can watch your face contort at the expansion of his cock, your eyebrows arching and your long lashes fluttering. you murmur a silent yes into the room, nodding slightly as if it were almost instinctive.
moaning with pleasure as you feel his cock sinking into your warm, wet hole, austin tightens his grip around your throat slightly, leaning over you so his other hand can grab one of your breasts at the same time. and then he starts to move.
he watches you frown, your expression full of pleasure. "oh..." you whisper dumbly, staring up at him.
he starts fucking you hard and fast; the sound of skin against skin fills the room along with your moans and his grunts. you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his balls slap against your ass with every thrust. his cock takes over your hole again and again, and he watches almost tenderly as your hands grip his wrist. not to pull his hand away from your throat, but to keep it there.
"i'm gonna fucking breed you." he growls.
your response is an almost incoherent jumble of pleasure. "yes… yes, daddy… fuck, that's what i want…"
"say it." he demands between thrusts. "say you want me to breed you."
you moan loudly and nod frantically: "yes… yes, i want you to… breed me. fill me with your baby… fuck."
austin stares at you, taking in the vast expanse of your body, from your trembling, spread legs to your perky breasts bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. you look like a perfect little dolly. and to top it all off, with every hard thrust into your supple body, he can see the bulge of his cock pressing against your lower belly from the inside out. you're so soft, beautiful, and unreal. so his.
"you'll look so beautiful when you're pregnant..." he murmurs, feeling his cock hit your cervix with every thrust.
he spreads your legs wider, deepening the angle even further. he watches where you're connect: your small body takes in his huge size with ease. he pulls out almost completely before thrusting back in hard, making you whimper and clench your hands around your wrist.
he groans and pulls his hand away from your throat to grab your face; his grip is tight, digging into your cheeks. your face in his hand is a sight to behold; furrowed brow, eyes clouded and brimming with tears, lips parted, pleasure written all over your expression. the sight almost makes him come because you’re so beautiful.
and, god, you're gonna be such a good mom.
"i'm gonna get you pregnant, you hear me?” he says, almost in a whisper, staring intently at you. he pulls out and then thrusts back into you, hard, burying himself all the way inside you, making you arch your back and let out a loud moan. "and then you're gonna give birth." he does the same, drawing another moan from you. "and then i'm gonna get you pregnant again." he pulls out again and sinks into you. you moan again. "and again." once more, this time harder. "and again." this time, you close your eyes tightly, and his expression softens as he sees two tears sliding down your face. "i know you want it."
you don't say a word, but your pussy is so wet and loose from the stretching of his cock that he's practically sliding into a warm, slippery hole made to receive his cum. he pulls back again and thrusts deep inside you, rubbing his pubic bone against your clit.
you whine helplessly and throw your head back, your legs shaking around his waist.
seeing you fall apart like that makes him absolutely wild. he starts fucking you again, with deep and fast thrusts, grinding that pubic bone against your clit with each snap of his hips.
"shit... can you feel my cock?" he reaches down. "baby?"
you nod frantically, tears leaking from your eyes. "you're so big..."
austin growls, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull your legs back and open them wider. he's watching his thick, throbbing dick slide in and out of your small, pink pussy. he spreads your cheeks slightly, watching how your hole stretches around him.
your pussy is completely stuffed by his member, and it looks adorable and obscene at the same time. he starts fucking you harder and faster, his heavy balls slapping against your baby hole.
"god damn, you're so fucking tiny..."
his cock is so big and hard that it hits your cervix with every thrust, making you cry out in pleasure and pain.
he feels your walls vibrate and clench around him, knowing you're close. he circles your throat with his hand, applying light pressure as he enters you.
"cum on my cock, honey. show me how much you want my baby."
the pressure on your throat makes you moan louder and tighter around his cock. "o-oh... austin... austin, i..." your pussy starts clamping down hard around his size.
seeing you come apart around his dick makes his balls tighten. he watches your small body convulse, your breasts bouncing as you moan. he spreads your legs wider again, hammering inside you deep and fast, hitting that perfect spot that makes you screech.
austin gets even harder inside you, if that's possible, feeling your pussy milking his cock. he wraps an arm around your waist and suddenly flips you over, leaving you on all fours. he spanks you hard before grabbing your hips and pulling you back onto his member.
you moan, your face buried in the pillow.
he sinks deeply into you again, starting to set a firm pace. staring down at your body positioned beneath him, he swears nothing is a hotter sight. your lean body with curves accentuated with the arch of your back, the way your black hair spills in messy waves over your shoulders and that ass of yours is so perfectly round and welcomed his hands in a firm grip.
"do you want my baby inside you?"
you moan loudly, pushing back to him, feeling him even deeper. he feels you get wetter and tighter at the thought of being pregnant with his child. with a loud groan, he starts to fuck you even harder and faster.
he slaps his hand across your ass, staining the skin pink before he's grabbing your flesh and yanking you back into his thrusts with a handsome groan.
"answer the question."
you nod frantically, your words coming out as broken moans. "y-yes... please... put a baby in me..." you arch your back more, pushing your ass out and spreading your legs wider, giving him deeper access. "breed me, please."
hearing you beg so prettily for his baby makes his dick throb inside you. he starts fucking you even harder, his hips slapping against your reddened ass with every thrust. "you're gonna be so full with my kid... will you give it to me? will you give me my lisa?"
you nod eagerly, pushing your hips back against him. "yes, yes, i will, i will, i promise."
"will you let me put her inside your body? will you give birth to her for me, baby?"
at this point, you're making non-stop whimpering and moaning sounds, completely overwhelmed with pleasure and the thought of being pregnant with his daughter.
"daddy..."
hearing you call him that makes his balls tighten. he watches your small body start to shake again. he spreads your cheeks wider, going even deeper. he finds your g-spot and nails it with each thrust, making you screech louder, cumming all over his cock again.
god, he loves making you noisy and squirmy like this.
your pussy spasm and gush around his thick cock. you're making a mess on the bed, soaking it with your juices. he leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he whispers in your ear.
"you're so damn wet..." he spanks your ass again, leaving another red handprint.
your body goes limp suddenly, overloaded with two orgasms. you make a weak whimpering noise instead of moaning now. your hole is pulsing around him softly, trying to push him out because it's too sensitive.
but you don't do anything to push him away. despite the overstimulation, you stay still—or try to—so he can use your body. and austin does. he takes full advantage, because he's just a man, like the ones who destroyed the world. he fucks you hard against the bed, sliding a hand down your back to press you against the mattress, your ass in the air and ready for him.
you look like a beautiful little kitten.
"yeah…" you say in a purr, your words slurred with pleasure.
he smiles, leaning over you, covering your small body beneath his.
you couldn't escape even if you wanted to.
"what would people say if they saw my priscilla acting like a whore?"
and he's gotten you so used to humiliation that instead of complaining or trying to pull away, you just squeeze around his cock and let out a lewd moan.
"you're the one who wants to get me pregnant." you manage to say.
"and you're the stupid girl who's gonna carry it inside." and with that, he presses your face into the mattress with his hand and fucks you with hard, cruel thrusts that make you moan every time he sinks into you.
his balls are slapping against your overstimulated clit with every thrust, making you whimper and shake.
"fuck, daddy..."
"what? my baby wants to come again?"
"please..."
"beg more."
"daddy, please..." you plead, almost crying. "i'll be a good mom, i promise."
well, fuck.
"give me one more, then."
you whine and squirm weakly, trying to escape his relentless thrusts. but your sensitive body can't handle it anymore. you start crying out softly as he hits that spot again, your legs shaking violently.
with a final brutal thrust, he buries himself deep inside you and holds still, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your cries as he comes hard, filling you up. your body convulses one last time and you scream muffled into his hand as another orgasm rips through you.
"there..."
he stays buried inside you for a long moment, his cock pulsing as he finishes coming. slowly, he removes his hand from your mouth and gently pulls out, his softening cock slipping free with a wet sound. you collapse forward onto the messy bed, completely spent and overwhelmed.
he collapses down beside you, pulling your limp body onto his chest. he wraps his arms around you gently, holding you close as you both catch your breath. he buries his face in your hair and just holds you, his heart racing slowly as he comes down from the high.
"you did so well, sweetheart..." he gives you a kiss on the head. "such a good wife."
you stay curled up in his arms for a long moment, your body trembling weakly. he runs his fingers through your messy hair gently, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks.
he smiles softly and murmurs. "i think i might have broken ya... you good?"
"i..." you begin, your voice tired. "if it happens..."
his expression turns serious, his arms tightening around you possessively at the mention of pregnancy. he cuts you off with a low, firm tone. "if i get you pregnant, you're keeping it. no arguments. i was serious. this is not... just a fantasy, i want kids."
you look up at him. you seem hopeful, and it makes his heart ache, because even though you were having second thoughts just a few hours ago, now it seems like you really want to be a mom.
"promise me." you whisper.
"i promise." he looks down at you, his eyes intense and serious.
"and promise me you won't care what people say when they find out."
he understands immediately what you mean, as if your minds were connected.
you're young. and it's not that he's not—he's barely twenty-nine—but you're much younger. you were eighteen when you met him, now nineteen, soon to be twenty, and even though ten years isn't a huge difference, you know the internet will have a lot to say when they find out about your early marriage, especially when they find out you're expecting his baby.
and of course, he's not an idiot; he knows the comparisons and ridiculous theories from people with no lives of their own will come. elvis, priscilla. austin, you. blah, blah, blah. but austin isn't elvis—no one is like him, let's be honest—he is choosing you, he does have a choice, he's with you because he wants to, not because someone is forcing him. and you're not priscilla—god knows you're so much better—you don't want his name or his money, you're with him because you love him, not because of some twisted plan.
and, you know what? in his defense, you're so beautiful and sweet, and he just couldn't help falling in love with you.