#presley

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.

austin kisses your forehead. "pizza."