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Hi! Can you do an Austin Butler x reader imagine where where they have a big but legal age gap, and so the reader is a virgin. Through their relationship Austin has always told her to not feel pressured to do anything, but one night after the Oscars After Party she decides that’s she’s ready to take things further. Austin is very gentle and talks her through it and everything😩

AAAH NONNIE!! Ty for the request!! I hope you don’t mind I tweaked it out a bit… because while I adore your mind and how it came up with this!! I truly hope you still like my twist of it. ALSO i forgot to say this but i suck at writing the second POV (y/n) fics, its not exactly my forte- I'm sorry :( ASKS ARE OPEN Y'ALL side note: AUSTIN BUTLER BEING A GOOD KISSER?? deux moi tell me the sky is blue and I'll be more shocked.

Oscar season was something Luella had watched from the safe confines of her room- on her macbook as Harvey would curl up on her lap and as she’d pull the beagle into her and pet him as her, Jasmine, Caleb and Vi critiqued everyones looks and gave their scoreboard of it, on a scale from 1- why did you even come?

Now by some twisted fate of some sort, here she was, in a pink crystal florets open back dress- smiling at camera’s as she was tucked into Austin's side, the man had his protective arm slung around her waist as he smiled now and again, gently rubbing her hip to ground her. Granted, she hadn’t come here without a bit of grovelling on Austin’s side.

A few weeks before the Oscars, Luella was curled up on the couch in one of Austin’s hoodies, bonnet slightly askew, legs tucked under her like a pretzel. The TV hummed low with some chaotic skincare vlog while her tea sat forgotten on the coffee table, now lukewarm. She barely looked up when she heard the soft creak of the floorboards—Austin, barefoot, with that boyish grin and that too-soft way of looking at her like she was made of glass and gold.

“Baby,” he said, his voice low and affectionate, the way it always got when he was about to ask for something.

Luella hummed in response, eyes still on the screen. He sat on the edge of the couch near her knees, hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants.

“I want you to come to the Oscars with me,” he said, tone gentle, almost rehearsed.

“No,” she said instantly, not even glancing his way.

Austin laughed, not surprised. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“I already know what you were gonna say,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “‘I want you there, it’d mean a lot, you’d look so beautiful, blah blah blah’. I’m good. Enjoy the chaos, though.”

He smiled, his eyes never leaving her. “Okay… you’d look so beautiful—obviously. But also, you’d make it bearable. You always do.”

That made her pause. She flicked her eyes toward him—just a glance—but he caught it. His hand found her thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles through the fabric of her hoodie. Always grounding. Always gentle.

“You hate that scene, I know,” he said, voice quieter now, just for her. “But you’re not just my plus-one, Lu. You’re it. They should be lucky to see you at all.”

Luella blinked slowly, heart threatening to do that dumb fluttery thing it did whenever he got too sweet on her. She tried to mask it with a scoff.

“Why you always talk to me like you’re in a Nicholas Sparks movie?”

“Because I feel like I’m in one every time I look at you,” he replied without missing a beat.

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her, lifting just enough to tell on her. He leaned in, kissed the top of her head, then brushed a second one against the tip of her nose for good measure.

“You’re annoying,” she muttered, voice muffled as he pulled her against his chest.

“But you’ll come?” he asked, hopeful.

There was a pause. Then, against his shirt, she mumbled, “...I want a dress with sparkles. Like, obnoxious sparkles.”

Austin smiled into her hair. “Done. The sparklier, the better.”

He’d seen Luella dressed up before. Hell, he’d seen her stripped down and laughing in the low light of their kitchen, face dewy with skincare and a bonnet barely holding on. He’d seen her with mascara tears on her cheeks, in sweats five sizes too big, seen her pouty, smug, sleepy, giddy. He’d seen every version of her.

But nothing prepared him for this.

She stepped out of the car like the world was lucky to exist at the same time as her. Her dress shimmered with every flash of light—pink crystal florets hugging her curves, catching on the stretch of her hips, the dip of her waist, the line of her spine left bare by the open back. Her skin glowed like she'd been kissed by stars. Neck glistening, lashes heavy, lip glossed and glossy.

She didn’t look like she belonged on the sidelines anymore. She was the moment.

Austin froze for a second—not visibly, but something in him stopped. His chest tightened. That same ache he got when she fell asleep with her head in his lap or when she danced barefoot in the kitchen at midnight, humming some old SZA track.

And then she turned to him, one brow lifted like Well?

He didn’t say anything at first. Just smiled as he reached for her waist, pulling her close with a kind of reverence. His hand settled on the small of her back, thumb sweeping lightly over her skin. She smelled like her signature—soft florals, warm and familiar. He leaned in, voice low in her ear.

“You know I’m never gonna recover from this, right?”

Luella smirked, tilting her head as the cameras started going off. “You’ll be fine.”

But she pressed a kiss to his cheek anyway, then let her hand find his under the blinding lights, fingers intertwining like they always do. And for all the noise, the red carpet, the stylists and reporters and designer chaos, Austin barely heard a thing.

She was the only one in the room, and he couldn't take his eyes off her; he didn’t want to. Perhaps that’s what softened the sting of his loss—the way Luella’s devotion didn’t falter, not even for a second. The way she brought their joined hands to her lips, pressing a long kiss to his knuckles before whispering I love you into his ear just as the cameras shifted away. How could he feel like a loser when, with one glance to his left, he saw everything he’d ever truly wanted?

Now, hours later, she stood between his legs at the afterparty, changed into something softer, easier. Her heels were off, curls freed from their style, and her laugh was louder without the pressure of press. She looked at him like he was hers. And all he could think was: I’m the luckiest man in this room.

Intimacy had never been missing between them. Luella loved with her hands, her time, the way she’d curl into his chest at night and kiss the spot behind his ear when she thought he was asleep. She didn’t always say the words out loud—it was easier for her to show them than speak them. But when she did say them, like she had earlier, it hit him like scripture.

They’d been together for almost a year now. From the moment she’d agreed to be his—half-smiling across a tiny coffee shop table—it’d been the best year of his life.

They hadn’t had sex yet. Luella always blamed herself for that, though Austin gently reminded her not to phrase it like that. Still, he knew where it came from.

Before him, she’d been with a guy back in university. One of those on-again, off-again situations that left more bruises than memories. She’d finally undressed for him once—laid back, exposed, and hopeful—and he’d barely looked at her. Just slipped on a condom, lubed himself up, and thrust into her with all the consideration of a crossed-off to-do list. No warmth. No build-up. Just friction.

It lasted ten minutes. She remembered staring at the ceiling, counting dents and speckles in the plaster while he grunted above her, then asked casually, “Did you cum?” as he pulled out.

She’d gingerly nodded abd left the room.

Luella’s hand was tangled in the soft mess of Austin’s once perfectly styled hair, her nails grazing his scalp in slow, soothing strokes. He’d groaned low the first time she did it, that little sound blooming in her chest like validation. Now, nestled in a shadowed corner of the afterparty, her lips moved along the sharp line of his jaw, brushing kisses there like secrets, before drifting down to the warm skin of his neck.

She didn’t know how to say it. Not with words. That she needed him tonight—needed the kind of closeness that went deeper than anything they’d shared before. That she wanted to melt into him, to remind him without speaking that even in loss, he wasn’t empty.

To anyone watching from afar, he looked fine. Effortlessly composed, drink in hand, smile still reaching his eyes. But she knew better. She always did. The faint tension in his jaw, the way he exhaled a beat too slow—it told her everything she needed to know.

So here she was, draped over him in a dress she’d nearly fought her stylist over, practically curled into his lap as the room buzzed with industry noise. One hand in his hair, the other tracing idle circles along the collar of his shirt. Her thigh pressed between his knees, close enough that she could feel the shift of his breath against her temple when she leaned in to kiss just beneath his ear.

He laughed—quiet, breathless, the sound laced with heat and disbelief. “You’re really trying to kill me, huh?” he murmured, voice low enough that only she could hear it.

She didn’t answer. Just nipped gently at his earlobe, her breath a whisper against his skin.

“I want you,” was what she didn’t say out loud. I want you tonight. I want you slow. I want you safe.

Instead, she kissed him again—longer this time, deeper—and hoped he heard it anyway

Austin’s hands, which had been resting loosely on her hips, tightened just slightly—enough for her to notice. Then, slowly, deliberately, he pulled back.

Not far. Just enough to look at her. His fingers slid from her waist to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing along her cheekbones like she was something precious—something he didn’t want to break by rushing.

“Lu,” he said, voice low, still laced with that breathless heat she’d stirred in him, “Baby, look at me.”

She blinked, lips parted, cheeks warm. She didn’t want to look at him—because if she did, she’d probably cry or say too much or freeze. But she did it anyway, because when Austin said look at me it never felt like a demand. It felt like safety.

His eyes searched hers, not for permission, but for truth. “I’ll give you anything, you know that. But not if you’re trying to make the hurt quiet.”

That was the thing about him—he never said are you sure? like she was fragile. He just asked if her heart was in it. If she was really here.

Luella’s throat felt tight. “I’m not trying to fix anything,” she whispered. “I just… I want to feel something good. With you.”

Austin exhaled like that undid him. His forehead tipped forward to rest against hers.

“You already do,” he murmured, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “You feel like the best thing I’ve ever touched.”

Her heart skipped a beat before she kissed him—once, twice, then a third time. By the fourth, she slid her tongue into his mouth, tasting the warmth of rum and frustration. She needed him to feel it. All of it. The love that burned her from the inside out, the kind that left her breathless and aching like a heart attack with no cure.

How could she show him? That he had cracked her open, rearranged her world to make space for a him-shaped presence she couldn’t imagine living without?

She was only twenty-three. A decade stretched between them, but it never felt like a divide. Never awkward, never too wide to reach across. He never made her feel small or inexperienced. Instead, he let her be—let her go out, drink too much, dance until sunrise. And then he’d show up in the early morning, hoodie on, Gatorade and pretzels in hand, like he had all the time in the world just to love her exactly where she was.

Luella’s breath hitched as he kissed her back—slow, sure, like he had all the time in the world, even as her hands curled into the fabric of his shirt like she was afraid he’d disappear. Her body moved closer, practically moulded to his now, desperate to collapse the inches between wanting and having.

“Baby,” she whispered, barely audible between kisses. It came out ragged, almost broken.

He stilled, forehead still pressed to hers. “Yeah?”

She closed her eyes. Her fingers slid down from his chest to his stomach, trembling just slightly, but there was intent in her touch now. She wasn’t sure what she was doing—wasn’t sure she could be sure—but she knew what she felt. Knew that her body wanted to speak for her when her voice shook too hard to try.

“I want…” she started, but the words caught in her throat.

He didn’t rush her. His hands stayed where they were—firm on her hips, unmoving. Anchoring.

“You don’t have to,” he said gently, like the weight of her didn’t scare him. “Not because you think I need it. Not to prove anything. I already know.”

Tears threatened to sting her eyes, but she didn’t blink them away. Her voice was soft, barely more than a breath. “I know. But I need you. Like—tonight. I want it to be you.”

His expression softened even further, impossibly tender. And still, he waited.

“Lu,” he said, tucking a curl behind her ear. “If we do this, we do it slow. We do it safe. We do it your way.”

A small laugh broke out of her—shaky, teary. “You always talk to me like you’re in a Nicholas Sparks movie.”

Austin grinned, brushing a thumb along her cheekbone. “Because I feel like I’m in one every time you look at me.”

She kissed him again, this time slower. Less urgency. More trust.

And when he stood up, fingers gently intertwining with hers, she didn’t hesitate. She followed him without looking back, heart pounding, throat tight, but her feet steady. Because no matter what came next, she knew one thing for certain:

She’d never been more sure of anything in her life.

The ride home felt heavier than silence, thick with everything left unsaid but deeply understood. Luella sat with her hand in Austin’s, thumb tracing absentminded circles over his skin. Her other hand rested on her thigh, nails tapping against her dress in a rhythm only she knew. She didn’t speak—not because she was unsure, but because her mind was loud and full and if she said one word, it might all spill out too fast.

Austin glanced at her once. Then again. The streetlights slid across her face like slow-moving spotlight beams, catching the softness of her lashes, the gentle pinch between her brows. He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

When they got to the house, she didn’t wait for him to open the door. Just stepped out, bare heels clicking gently against the pavement, purse tucked under her arm. ( something that would’ve got her an earful but he let her off the hook, this time) He followed, quiet, patient, keeping pace behind her like he always did.

Inside, she took her shoes off with a relieved sigh and stood in the doorway for a second, like she was catching her breath. Like maybe the nerves were starting to creep in.

Austin came up behind her slowly, pressing a hand to the small of her back. “You okay?”

She nodded, eyes still forward. “Yeah.”

Then she turned, looked up at him—really looked—and something in the air shifted. Her fingers rose to the tiny clasp at the nape of her neck, undoing it slowly. She didn’t peel the dress off all the way, just loosened it enough to make her point clear.

“I want to take a shower,” she said softly. “Will you come with me?”

Austin didn’t answer with words. He just kissed her—slow and full, one hand cupping her cheek, the other finding her waist. And when they pulled apart, nothing else needed to be said.

They moved through the house like muscle memory, steps in sync. The lights were low, painting everything in soft gold, their shadows trailing behind them like the past versions of themselves that had never quite reached this point—until now.

By the time they reached the bathroom, the steam had already begun to bloom, curling around the mirror, warming the air. Austin turned the water on, then turned to look at her one more time—just to be sure.

She nodded. Just nodded.

They’d done this before, plenty of times. Showers full of shared laughter, slick skin, and teasing fingers. She’d made him squirm more than once, giggling as he tried to keep his cool while she touched him like it was nothing. A quick rinse would turn into thirty minutes and a cold towel because he'd had to finish himself once she slipped out the door with a smirk.

But this wasn’t that.

When his hands slid the dress from her shoulders and her fingers tugged his shirt over his head, it wasn’t about performance or sex. It was about her. About worship. About letting her be adored without demand.

And if that meant standing in the shower with a damn hard-on, breathing through it while steam clung to her skin and she trusted him enough to be bare, inside and out?

He’d do it. A thousand times over.

The heat hit her first—the moment she stepped in, steam swirled around her, damp curls clinging to her neck, lashes beading with water. She stood under the spray for a second, letting it rush over her, head tilted back, arms loose at her sides like she was surrendering to something bigger than the water.

Austin stepped in behind her, quiet as ever, closing the glass door with a soft click. For a second, he didn’t touch her. He just looked at the droplets racing down her back, at the way the curves of her body shimmered beneath the low light, at the slight tremble in her shoulders; she probably thought he wouldn’t notice.

And then he reached for her.

His hands were warm and certain as they smoothed over her waist, slow and steady, thumbs brushing her hips like she was breakable. He pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, another at the base of her neck, and stayed there for a moment, forehead resting gently against her skin.

Luella let out a soft breath and leaned back into him, her head falling against his collarbone, body melting into his like she didn’t care where she ended and he began. His arms wrapped around her, holding her there, water cascading down both their bodies.

“I got you,” he murmured into her hair. “Always.”

Her hand reached back to touch his thigh, fingers tracing down until they found his calf, anchoring herself in him. It wasn’t frantic. There was no urgency. Just this—them—wrapped in heat and steam and something that felt dangerously close to forever.

He grabbed the body wash, poured it into her net sponge, and began to lather her skin. Starting at her shoulders, he worked in slow, reverent circles, down her arms, across her back. He didn’t rush. He didn’t grope. He loved. Every touch was a quiet vow. Every sweep of his hands said, You are safe with me.

Luella turned to face him, droplets clinging to her lashes, lips parted as if she had something to say—but instead, she just stepped closer, chest to chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him. Slow, deep, tongue flicking just enough to make him groan against her mouth.

His hands found her waist again. His heart was thundering.

“Are you still sure?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

She nodded, pressing her forehead to his. “I’ve never been more sure.”

Luella’s skin was slick beneath his hands, warm and soft and glowing under the golden light seeping through the bathroom. The steam blurred everything around them, but her—her, she was clear. She was real. Her eyes, half-lidded and heavy with want. Her lips, kiss-bitten. Her body, trembling just a little, but not from fear.

From feeling.

She moved against him deliberately now—slow glides of skin on skin, her hips brushing his, her breasts pressed to his chest, her hands tangled in the back of his hair again. He could feel her breath hitch each time their bodies aligned just right, every subtle rock of her hips making his head spin.

Austin’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t rush. He let her take the lead.

She leaned up, kissing along his neck—tongue, teeth, breath—until he was gripping her waist a little tighter just to steady himself. She could undo him so easily, and she knew it. But this wasn’t about control. It was about permission. About choosing each other.

Her hands slid down his back, then back up, tracing every line, every muscle, every freckle and scar she’d come to know by heart. When her lips found the edge of his jaw again, she whispered something into his skin—not loud enough for him to hear, but the feel of it made him shiver.

“I love you,” she said again, this time a little clearer. She said it like a confession, like a prayer.

Austin pulled back just enough to see her face, to really see her. Her eyes were glassy, full of unspoken things—of past hurt, of trust being rebuilt, of longing so deep it scared them both a little.

His hand came up to cradle her cheek. “You don’t have to prove anything, Lu.”

“I’m not trying to,” she breathed. “I just... I want this. I want you. And I want to give you all of me.”

Her voice cracked on the last part, and he kissed her before she could take it back—soft and reverent, but with the kind of heat that promised he heard her. That he understood.

When he lifted her gently by the waist, pressing her back against the cool tile, her legs wrapped around him like instinct. They stayed like that for a moment—foreheads touching, hearts thudding against each other’s ribs, water still streaming around them like a hush over the world.

Still clothed in tension, still holding onto control.

But not for long.

They were pressed so close now, water slipping between their bodies, heat rising in waves—but before Luella could get lost in it, the words started tumbling out.

“I, um…” she began, and Austin instantly stilled, looking down at her with soft, steady eyes.

She swallowed. “I just—before we do this… my first time wasn’t… it wasn’t great.” Her voice cracked, barely audible over the hum of water. “It wasn’t bad like trauma bad, but it was just… I don’t know. Cold. Boring. Forgettable.”

Austin’s hands stayed gentle on her waist, thumbs rubbing slow, grounding circles as she kept going.

“I didn’t even like the guy that much,” she said with a quiet laugh, embarrassed. “I just felt like I was supposed to be ready. So I did it. I let him. He didn’t even look at me—like, really look. Just got a condom, got it over with, didn’t even ask me if I liked it. And when it was done, he asked if I came like it was a formality.”

She paused, blinking quickly.

“I stared at the ceiling the whole time,” she whispered. “And I kept thinking… this can’t be what it’s supposed to feel like. This can’t be it.”

Austin’s jaw tightened, not from anger but from the ache of wanting to reach back in time and shield her from that version of herself. His voice, when it came, was low and certain.

“Then it wasn’t,” he said. “That wasn’t your first time.”

She looked up at him, lips parted, unsure.

“That doesn’t count,” he continued, brushing a hand over her soaked curls, tucking them behind her ear. “Let’s start over. Right now. If you want this… we’ll say this is your first time.”

He leaned in, kissed her temple. “Here. With me.”

By the time they stepped out of the shower, the air was thick with heat and something heavier—something sacred.

Austin wrapped a towel around Luella first, careful and slow, like she was fragile silk. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder before drying himself, never once taking his eyes off her. She stood there quiet, skin flushed from more than just the heat, her hands clutching the towel to her chest like it was armor, even though she didn’t feel the need to hide from him.

He reached for her hand, their fingers weaving together with ease.

In the bedroom, the lights were dim—just a soft bedside lamp casting everything in amber. The sheets had been turned down earlier, and the space smelled faintly of her perfume and something warmer—something that felt like them.

Luella sat at the edge of the bed first, towel still wrapped around her, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that betrayed her nerves. Austin didn’t crowd her. He knelt in front of her instead, resting his hands on her thighs.

“Last chance,” he murmured. “You can tell me no, and I’ll just hold you all night. Happily.”

She looked down at him—this beautiful man, kneeling for her like she was holy.

“I want this,” she whispered. “I want you.”

He smiled, eyes shining like he couldn’t believe she was real. Then, slowly, reverently, he kissed her knee. Then her thigh. Then up—so slowly she felt every single breath, every pause. When he stood, she rose with him, letting the towel fall from her shoulders.

She didn't flinch. She didn’t cover herself.

He looked at her like she was a gift.

They climbed into bed together without a word. No urgency. Just hands on skin, the kind of touch that felt like a lifetime of yeses. He laid her down like a prayer, like a promise. He kissed her collarbone, her shoulder, her chest—each one lingering like a vow.

And when he finally settled above her, eyes locked with hers, he whispered:

“This is your first time. Right now. With me.”

He pressed his lips to hers, slow and deliberate, his tongue gently meeting hers in a kiss that felt more like a conversation than anything rushed or greedy. Their mouths moved together in a rhythm that was all soft surrender—wet, warm, reverent.

His hands roamed her body with quiet hunger, fingers raking up her sides, across her hips, down the arch of her back. Wherever he touched, goosebumps followed, her body twitching in the softest ways under his hold—each reaction fueling his devotion.

Luella’s hands slid down his torso, exploring the planes of his chest, his ribs, his abdomen. Her nails grazed over his stomach, lightly scratching, just enough to make him groan into her mouth. His skin flexed beneath her touch, heat rippling through him like a tide he couldn’t fight—and didn’t want to.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered between kisses, voice raw, husky. “You don’t even know.”

She blinked up at him, pupils blown wide, lips parted like she wanted to say something, but all that came out was a breathy whimper as his hands found her thighs and parted them gently.

Not possessive. Not hurried.

Just home.

Austin kissed the inside of her thighs like they were sacred—slow, wet presses of his mouth right where the soft met the sensitive, his breath hot against her skin. Luella was already trembling, her chest rising and falling fast, lips parted in anticipation, in disbelief that it was finally happening—and like this.

When his mouth finally met her, tongue flat and slow, she gasped so sharply she almost sat up.

He moaned against her, the sound low and guttural. Fuck, she tasted like honey and sin. Like everything he’d ever craved. He didn’t dive in greedily, no—he studied her. He licked her with intention, easing into her folds with long, slow strokes, letting his tongue swirl around her clit in lazy circles just to see how she responded.

“Just like that,” he murmured against her, voice almost drunk with need. “Let me take care of you, baby. You don’t gotta do a thing.”

Her back arched, one hand flying into his hair, fingers curling tight.

“That feel good?” he asked, dragging his tongue up again, eyes fluttering shut as he savored her. “Yeah? Been thinking about this… every time you walked around the apartment in those little shorts. Every time you kissed me and ran away.”

She whimpered, too breathless to respond. Her thighs twitched, closing in on his head, but he held them open, palms firm and reverent.

“Stay with me,” he said softly, kissing her clit once, twice. “I got you.”

And then—he brought his hand up.

Two fingers at first, slick with her arousal, circling her entrance slowly, gently. He didn’t push in yet. He waited, his mouth still worshipping her with slow, wet licks while his fingers teased her hole, watching the way her body reacted to even that.

“You're so fucking tight,” he whispered, his voice shaking with restraint. “Gotta open you up, baby. Gonna make it feel good.”

He pressed in—one finger at first. She tensed, breath catching, and he immediately kissed her thigh, his voice soft and low.

“Breathe, Lu,” he said, kissing the inside of her knee. “Just breathe for me. You're doin’ so good.”

When she relaxed, he added the second finger, curling just right as his mouth returned to her clit—licking, sucking, moaning against her like her body was his only religion.

She let out a strangled sound, eyes fluttering, hips bucking.

“Oh—my God—Austin.”

“There you go,” he breathed, tongue moving faster now, fingers scissoring gently as her walls started fluttering around them. “You’re so close, aren’t you? I can feel you.”

She nodded, choked on a moan, and that was all he needed.

“Let go for me, baby,” he said, voice thick, hungry. “Don’t hold it. Come on. Let me feel you. I need it.”

She shattered.

Her thighs clamped around his head, hips rocking, cries spilling from her mouth as her first real orgasm tore through her. He didn’t stop. He worked her through it—licking and pumping as her body jerked and her hands fisted in the sheets, whispering, that’s it, that’s my girl, I got you, I got you.

When she finally collapsed back against the pillows, chest heaving, skin glowing, eyes glassy and stunned—he kissed his way up her body, slow and loving, until his mouth met hers again.

She could taste herself on his lips. Could feel how hard he was pressed against her thigh.

“You okay?” he whispered, pressing their foreheads together.

She laughed—soft, breathless, amazed. “No,” she said. “I think you broke me.”

He smiled, brushing her cheek with his knuckles. “Good. Now I’m gonna put you back together.”

Luella was still breathless, body slack and buzzing, but the moment Austin leaned in to kiss her—deep and slow, his hand cradling the side of her face—something stirred in her chest. Need. Gratitude. That ever-burning desire to show him what he meant to her, the way he’d just shown her.

So she pushed herself up, blinking through the afterglow, and whispered against his lips, “Can I take care of you now?”

Austin froze, his hand on her cheek going still. “Baby…”

“I want to,” she said, eyes locked on his. “I want to taste you.”

He swallowed hard, jaw flexing as he pulled back slightly to look at her—like he needed to see how sure she was. She held his gaze, steady and soft. And that’s all it took.

“Okay,” he murmured, voice rough now, laced with something darker, deeper. “Okay, come here.”

She pushed him back gently, watched as he settled against the pillows, then slid down the bed, trailing kisses down his chest, stomach, the V of muscle leading lower. Her fingers hooked in the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down with slow intention.

And then she saw it.

Her eyes widened slightly, lips parting with a tiny breath of shock.

“Oh my God,” she whispered before she could stop herself.

Austin laughed, low and strained, head tipping back against the pillow. “Yeah,” he breathed, “I was gonna warn you.”

Her fingers wrapped around the base gently, testing the weight of him, the sheer length and thickness. “You were just gonna let me find out?”

“I mean… you were already committed,” he said, barely holding back a groan when her thumb grazed the tip. “Figured I’d let you be brave.”

She gave him a look, then leaned down, kissing the head with soft lips, tongue flicking gently across the slit. He hissed through his teeth, muscles twitching.

“Take your time,” he said, voice deeper now, eyes heavy-lidded but watching her every move. “Just do what feels good. You don’t have to take all of it.”

Luella nodded, then slowly wrapped her lips around the tip, sucking gently while her hand stroked the base. His hips twitched—twitched—and she smiled around him.

“Fuck, Lu—” Austin groaned, one hand gripping the sheets beside him, the other threading through her curls but not pushing, just resting, grounding himself. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

She took a little more, relaxed her throat, tongue swirling, eyes fluttering when he moaned again. It was messy. She couldn’t take all of him, not yet. But she worked him with care, spit trailing down her fingers as she kept stroking what her mouth couldn’t hold.

“You feel so fucking good,” he muttered, hips trying not to buck. “You’re so pretty like this. Fuck, you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

She pulled off for a moment, eyes wet, lips shiny, breath hot. “Tell me,” she whispered, stroking him slowly. “Tell me what I’m doing to you.”

“You’re killing me,” he gasped, eyes closing for a second. “You’ve got me shaking, baby. I’m trying so hard not to come right now.”

Luella smiled like sin and slid her mouth back down.

And that was when his head fell back with a groan so raw it vibrated through her spine.

She was doing her best—more than her best.

Austin lay there, one arm thrown behind his head, the other buried in her curls, watching with parted lips and a look of awe painted all over his face. Luella was taking him as deep as she could, hand twisting around the base where her mouth couldn’t reach, her tongue working in slow, wet circles that had him breathing like he’d just run miles.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, thighs tensing under her. “That mouth… it’s not fair.”

He kept his hips still, fighting every instinct, letting her lead. But each time she pulled off to kiss the tip, suckle softly, then go back down—spit slicking him, her pretty lips swollen, breath coming in shallow gasps—it chipped away at his control.

Then she looked up at him.

Eyes glassy. Drool shining on her chin. Like she’d live between his thighs if he let her.

And he couldn’t take it.

“Lu,” he warned, voice low and ragged. “Baby… slow down. I’m not gonna last.”

But she didn’t stop. She just moaned around him, sucking harder, letting her hand work faster.

That did it.

He hissed, hand tightening in her curls—not pulling, just gripping, grounding, trying to stay tethered. “Shit—Luella. Stop. Baby, stop.”

She popped off of him with a gasp, blinking up like she wasn’t sure what she did wrong—but his eyes were dark now, locked on hers, chest rising fast.

“I need to be inside you,” he said, voice like gravel and silk all at once. “I need to feel you—all of you.”

Luella’s breath hitched. Her thighs instinctively pressed together, heat blooming low and deep. She nodded, lips still wet, cheeks flushed, and that was all he needed.

Austin sat up slowly, gently guiding her back onto the bed, kissing her with everything she made him feel—hunger, worship, love. His hands caressed her thighs, spreading them open again with reverence, eyes never leaving hers.

“You did so good, baby,” he whispered, thumb brushing her lip, then trailing down between her legs. “But now it’s my turn.”

Austin hovered above her, his hand still stroking gently between her thighs, keeping her open and relaxed as he kissed her slow. Deep. The kind of kiss that said you’re mine without ever needing the words.

Her breath was shaky now, the earlier confidence melting into nerves again. He felt it. Saw the little flicker of hesitation in her eyes. So he paused, kissing her forehead, then her cheek, letting his hand slide up to cradle her face.

“Hey,” he whispered. “You still with me?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

But it was quiet. Shaky.

He smiled, leaned in closer. “We’re not rushing. I got you, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kissed her again—long and grounding—and then trailed his hand down to her thigh, gently lifting it.

“Let me figure out what feels good for you,” he murmured, brushing her hair back from her face. “We’ll try a few positions until your body tells me it’s right. No pressure. We stop the second you want to. Deal?”

“Deal,” she whispered, already breathless from his voice alone.

He started with her on her back, gently lifting her hips with a pillow beneath them. He eased between her legs, guiding himself to her entrance, sliding the tip through her folds slowly—so slowly—but the second he pressed forward, her breath caught and her body tensed.

He froze.

“Too much?” he asked instantly, his hand stroking her side, lips brushing her temple.

She nodded, biting her lip. “Just a little. I think the angle’s too deep.”

“Okay,” he said softly, kissing her jaw. “Let’s try something else.”

He gently pulled back and helped her up, repositioning her with her back against his chest, both of them seated now, her legs draped over his thighs. He kissed her shoulder, held her close, and tried again—slow, careful pressure, but she still winced.

“I feel… exposed like this,” she said, voice small.

Austin immediately pressed his forehead to her shoulder and whispered, “Okay. Scratch that. You’re in charge, baby. Always.”

Finally, he laid her down again and adjusted them until they were chest to chest, his knees framing her hips, her legs wrapped around his waist. Their foreheads touched. He held her hands in his.

“Like this?” he asked, voice low and patient. “This feel better? Not too deep, just enough to be close.”

She nodded. “Yeah. This... this feels safe.”

“Good,” he whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. “I want you to look at me the whole time, okay? I want you to see how much I love you.”

Then, with slow, tender care, he began to ease inside her—inch by inch, stopping every time her breath shifted, kissing her through the stretch. His eyes never left hers.

And when he was fully seated, both of them breathless and trembling, he whispered:

“You’re doing so good for me, Luella. You’re perfect. You feel like heaven.”

Austin had her laid out beneath him, legs wrapped loosely around his waist, her hands trembling where they gripped his arms. He could feel her nerves vibrating just beneath her skin, even as her eyes begged him to keep going.

His cock was heavy in his hand, flushed and dripping, and as he lined up with her entrance, he kissed her softly—slow, grounding, reverent.

“I got you,” he murmured against her lips. “You just breathe, okay? We’re gonna take it one inch at a time.”

Luella nodded, eyes wide, breath shaky.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he whispered, sliding the head of his cock through her soaked folds, coating himself in her arousal. “Gotta go slow. Let your body open for me.”

He pushed forward—just the tip.

She gasped, her hips twitching slightly, walls clenching hard around him. Austin stilled immediately, one hand flying to her cheek, the other gripping her thigh gently.

“Hey, hey, don’t tense,” he soothed, brushing his thumb over her skin. “You’re doing so good, Lu. I know I’m big, but we’ll go slow. You’re gonna take all of me—just not all at once.”

He leaned down, forehead to hers. His voice dropped into something even softer, something made of silk and devotion.

“Just like that,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You feel that? That’s me stretching you. That’s your body learning me.”

He rocked his hips again—barely deeper—and she let out a shaky moan, gripping onto his forearms like her life depended on it.

“You okay?” he asked, reading her every twitch, every breath.

“Y-Yeah,” she panted. “It’s… big.”

“I know,” he groaned, sweat beading at his brow from how tight she was. “I feel it too, baby. You’re gripping me so good.”

He kissed her again—softly, slowly—then rolled his hips forward another inch, swallowing her whimper with his mouth.

“That’s it,” he whispered against her lips. “You’re taking me so well. Your pussy’s made for me. Say it, baby. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she breathed, tears in her eyes from the stretch, the closeness, the overwhelming fullness. “I’m yours, Austin.”

He groaned low in his throat, pressing in just a little more, until she took half of him, her legs wrapped tighter around his waist.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I’ll stay right here. You tell me when you’re ready for more.”

And he did. He stayed. Kissing her through every inch, whispering filth and softness, coaching her body to relax, praising her like she was the only girl on Earth.

“You’re gonna take all of me, baby,” he promised, voice thick with emotion and restraint. “And when you do, I swear—I’ll make it feel so fucking good you’ll forget anyone ever touched you before.”

Luella's nails dug into Austin’s shoulders, her breath coming in short, unsteady gasps as he rocked his hips forward—slow and steady, thick length pressing into her inch by inch like he had all the time in the world.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmured, voice low and ragged, his forehead resting against hers. “You’re doing so good for me. That’s it… let me in.”

Her jaw dropped on a gasp as her body clamped down around him, her thighs trembling on either side of his hips.

“Oh my God, Austin, you’re—fuck—so big, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he groaned, kissing her lips, then her cheek, then her jaw. “You’re takin’ me so well, Lu. You feel perfect. Like you were made for this. Made for me.”

She whimpered, trying to breathe through the stretch. His cock dragged along every wall inside her, thick and unrelenting, her body twitching and fluttering with the effort of taking him.

“I feel so full,” she whispered, eyes glossy. “Like you’re in my stomach.”

“You are,” he breathed, voice thick with restraint as he looked down—and there it was: the faint swell under her belly where the head of his cock pressed from the inside.

“Right there,” he whispered, running a trembling hand over the bulge. “That’s me. You took every inch of me, baby. So. Fucking. Good.”

Her eyes rolled back, and she choked on a moan that turned into a sob.

“Too much?” he asked instantly, stilling.

She shook her head frantically. “No. It’s so good, I—don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Austin’s entire soul cracked open at her voice—at how wrecked she sounded. At how desperately she wanted to take it, to take him.

He kissed her again, deeper now, as he started to move—long, slow strokes that made the bed creak beneath them.

“You feel like heaven,” he growled, thrusting into her just deep enough to make her legs lock tight around his waist. “God, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. You like that? You like bein’ full of me?”

“Yes,” she gasped, nails clawing at his back. “Yes, Austin—please, don’t stop talking. Please.”

He lost it—he absolutely lost it.

“Good girl,” he whispered, dragging his cock out halfway before slamming it back in, the bulge in her belly pressing up again. “My perfect girl. You’re doin’ so good for me, takin’ every inch of this cock like it’s yours. ‘Cause it is. It’s yours, Lu.”

She was falling apart now, tears slipping from her lashes, her body spasming beneath him. But every whimper made his praise sharper, more intense.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, kissing her hard. “You hear me? You’re fucking perfect. Tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. Best girl I’ve ever had. My girl.”

Luella sobbed into his mouth, her whole body trembling now as he reached between them, fingers rubbing fast, perfect circles on her clit.

“Cum for me,” he whispered, eyes locked on hers. “Look at me while you do it. I wanna see your face when you fall apart. I wanna feel you lose it.”

She came with a scream—loud and unfiltered—her body jerking beneath him, pussy clenching violently around his cock as her orgasm ripped through her like fire.

Austin lost it seconds later, slamming deep one final time, his moan loud and low as he spilled into her, filling her until the bulge in her belly throbbed with warmth.

Even then, he didn’t stop kissing her. Didn’t stop whispering.

“You’re mine. You’re everything, Lu. You were made for this. For me.”

And in that moment, neither of them knew where her body ended and his began.

They’d barely come down.

Luella was still trembling, chest flushed, slick between her thighs and lips kiss-swollen from how much she’d taken. Her body was humming—nerves fried and thighs aching, but beneath the exhaustion was want. That delicious, greedy ache that said more.

Austin had just finished pressing soft kisses down her stomach, murmuring “you did so good” like a mantra, when she gently pushed at his chest.

He blinked, brows furrowing. “What’s up, baby?”

She slid on top of him.

Austin went still. “Lu…”

“I wanna try it,” she said softly, voice hoarse. “I wanna ride you.”

He let out a soft groan, hands instinctively landing on her thighs as she straddled him, her slick core brushing up against his half-hard cock—which, at the slightest touch from her, started to throb back to life.

“You sure?” he asked, voice strained already. “You just took me for the first time and you wanna ride it now? Baby, I’m not gonna last.”

Luella smiled, that sweet-bratty mix that made his stomach clench. “I don’t need you to last.”

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, dragging his hands up her waist. “You’re gonna kill me.”

He let her guide him, one hand wrapped around his shaft as she lined him up again. She was so wet, still stretched, but the second the head pressed to her entrance, she faltered.

Her thighs shook.

Austin sat up instantly, strong arms circling her waist, forehead pressed to her collarbone.

“Take it slow,” he whispered, guiding her hips with his hands. “You don’t have to sit all the way. Just feel it.”

She nodded, biting her lip, and slowly began to sink down.

The stretch hit different this way—wider, deeper. Her breath hitched, nails digging into his shoulders, and Austin felt it—felt her walls flutter around him like she was trying to pull him in and push him out at the same time.

“Fuck, fuck—Austin—”

“I got you,” he groaned, kissing up her neck. “You feel so good up there, baby. So fucking tight. Look at you, tryna ride this dick after I blew your back out.”

She whimpered, inching lower, thighs trembling against his.

“You want me that bad, huh?” he whispered, eyes locked on hers. “You that cockdrunk already?”

She moaned in response, finally taking more of him, her hips grinding down just enough to make both of them shake.

Austin’s head dropped back. “Goddamn. Look at you—my girl on top, tryna take this big fuckin’ cock like a champ.”

His hands grabbed her ass, helping her move, slow little rolls that made her eyes flutter shut.

“You’re doin’ so good, baby,” he breathed, kissing the sweat from her chest. “Even after everything—I’m still buried in this pussy. You’re a fuckin’ dream.”

She started bouncing—slow, unsteady, but committed.

And that’s when he lost it.

His grip tightened. His hips bucked up into her. Their moans tangled in the air, and the sound of her soaked cunt meeting his thighs was obscene.

“Austin—oh my God—” she gasped, eyes rolling back.

“I know, baby,” he groaned, voice breaking. “I know. You’re so fucking good to me. You wanna come on it again, huh? Wanna make a mess on this dick?”

She nodded frantically, breath hitching, body trembling.

“Then ride it,” he growled. “Be a good girl and take it.”

And she did. She rode him through tears and moans and shaking legs, until her thighs gave out and he had to grab her waist and fuck up into her, deep and messy and so much.

She came again, falling into his chest with a broken cry—and he followed, groaning into her neck, filling her a second time, so deep she could feel the warmth pulse inside her.

They didn’t speak right away. Just breathed. Held each other. Let their bodies buzz.

And then she whispered, “Next time… I wanna go faster.”

Austin laughed into her skin. “You’re insane.”

They stayed like that for a moment—Luella slumped against his chest, her skin slick with sweat and satisfaction, legs still loosely wrapped around his waist, her breath warm where it ghosted against his neck. Austin’s hands rubbed her back in slow, lazy circles, his lips brushing the crown of her head like she might drift away if he stopped touching her.

“Still with me, baby?” he whispered, voice hoarse and low.

She nodded with the tiniest, exhausted hum. “Mmhm. Barely.”

He smiled and kissed her temple.

“Okay, angel. Gonna pull out now, alright? Real slow.”

She whined at that—soft and broken, her walls still fluttering around him. But she nodded again.

Austin kissed her once more and gently gripped her hips, steadying her.

The moment he began to slide out, her body trembled—tiny aftershocks twitching through her thighs as he drew back, inch by inch. His cock was still thick and sensitive, glistening as it finally slipped free, her slick mixed with his cum dripping out of her in slow, sticky strings.

“Fuck,” he breathed, barely able to keep it together. “You’re so full, baby.”

Luella whimpered, hiding her face in his neck. “M’sore already…”

“I know,” he whispered, stroking her back. “You were perfect. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

He shifted carefully, cradling her against his chest as he stood. She clung to him, boneless and sleepy, arms looped around his neck while he carried her through the soft dark of their bedroom, straight into the warm bathroom.

He’d already turned the lights low—just enough to see, golden and flickering like candlelight.

He set her down on the edge of the tub and turned on the water, checking the temperature with practiced care before pouring in a few drops of lavender oil. Steam rose slowly. The scent bloomed in the air, calming, floral, safe.

Once the tub was full enough, he helped her step in. She eased down into the water with a soft gasp, muscles relaxing instantly.

But she didn’t even have to ask.

Austin slid in right behind her, arms coming around her waist as she settled against his chest.

“Better?” he murmured, his voice softer than ever.

Luella nodded, sighing as his hands began to stroke over her hips, her thighs, her belly with featherlight touch.

He kissed her shoulder. “You were so good for me, Lu. So fucking brave.”

She melted into him.

“I love you,” she mumbled, voice sleepy and small.

“I love you more,” he whispered, nuzzling into her curls. “And I’m gonna take care of you. Always.”

They stayed there for what felt like hours—bodies bare, hearts soft, the water wrapping around them like a second skin.

And when he washed between her legs, delicate and tender, whispering little apologies every time she flinched from soreness?

She realized no orgasm in the world could compare to how this man made her feel when he simply loved her right.

The water had gone lukewarm by the time Austin helped Luella out of the tub, arms steady as he wrapped her in a plush towel, pressing a kiss to her temple as she wobbled on her feet.

“Got you,” he murmured. “Lean on me.”

She did.

Back in the bedroom, the sheets were freshly changed—he’d done it earlier, anticipating this moment. The air was cool, the lighting warm, and everything smelled like vanilla and eucalyptus.

He sat her gently on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her again, towel still around her body, the ends damp and clinging to her thighs.

“Stay right here,” he said, standing long enough to grab her lotion and the oversized tee she always stole from him. The one that hung past her knees and smelled like him even after four washes.

She watched with heavy eyes, blinking slowly like every second away from his hands felt too long.

Then he knelt again, easing the towel open just enough to rub lotion gently into her skin—starting with her thighs, then her hips, her belly, her arms. Every touch was delicate. Reverent. His thumbs kneaded the backs of her thighs, his palms smoothing over the curve of her ass, not with hunger—but care.

“You okay?” he whispered, glancing up.

She nodded, quiet. “Sore. But… good sore.”

He grinned, kissed the inside of her knee. “That’s my girl.”

Once she was fully lotioned and glowing, he helped her slip into the big t-shirt, pulling it down over her head, letting her arms slide through like she was something breakable and precious.

Then he lifted the covers and tucked her in—yes, tucked her in—before sliding into bed beside her, pulling her into his chest like she belonged there.

She did.

One of her legs slipped between his. Her cheek rested on his chest, where his heartbeat thudded slow and steady under her ear.

He kissed her forehead.

“Need anything else?” he asked softly, hand drawing lazy circles on her hip.

She mumbled something against his skin. He caught only pieces.

“Water… maybe…” “…one more kiss…”

Austin smiled and reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, helping her sip before setting it down and pulling her close again., and putting her bonnet over her hair. Then he kissed her. Just once. Soft. Final.

“I’m never letting you go,” he whispered into her hair.

Luella barely whispered back. “You better not.”

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