A/N - this is a oneshot based on the Meaningful Ink universe, but it can be read as a standalone. I do recommend reading that fic beforehand though! It's much less angsty lol, this is literally only angst and hurt/comfort based off of Austin's trauma. like there's no way I made him go through that and he has no nightmares.

Also no this is most definitely not a way to procrastinate on my other story because of writer's block no ma'am.

**not edited

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Austin & Ally, nor do I own any of the characters. I do, however, own this storyline.

WARNING: graphic depictions of sexual assult, mentions of drugs & alcohol. read at your own discretion.


Austin hides wrapped in his blanket, listening to the horrid sounds coming from his father's room. Moans, groans, and screeching of the bed frame echo throughout the house, and he sighs.

This was the third girl the man had brought home from the bar. It seemed like he had no trouble finding the prostitutes ten years younger than him.

The house reeked of a different drug nearly every time one entered the house; the first time it was weed, the last time it was Molly, and today it was cocaine.

Austin couldn't do anything but sit quietly in his room while they did the dirty deed, or else his drunken father would use that as a reason to punish him.

Although he had never been hit before, he was starting to question when it will happen. His father's harsh words had already hurt enough when he was sober — saying stuff like, "You're the reason your mother left," "You weren't good enough for her," and "Go get me another bottle of rum from the fridge, boy, that's all you're good for anymore," — but when he was drunk it was much worse. It was so much worse, just the tone of his voice brought Austin to tears.

He didn't even realize that the sounds coming from his dad's bedroom had stopped, until he heard soft footsteps coming towards his room. His eyes widen.

'Why is the prostitute walking my way?'

The blonde had no time to hide in his closet, or escape through the window, as he knew he would be caught, so all he could do was just sit there.

The door creaks as it opens slowly, and Austin can see the silhouette of the young woman standing in his doorway. He gulps.

She takes a few tentative steps into his room, kicking the door behind her and letting it close with a click. Now she is close enough to where he can see the outline of a smirk on her face. His breath quickens.

"Well…" Her soft, cunning voice starts.

"What do we have here?"

Austin opts to stay quiet. He's not sure if the darkness can mask the fear that crosses his face, but he hopes that it does. The last thing he wants is to be seen as weak by the woman standing in front of him.

A small chuckle escapes the woman's throat as she lifts herself onto the bed. Then she slowly starts crawling towards him, to which he scoots back until he hits the headboard behind him.

Her hand is suddenly caressing his cheek and he cringes, not liking the feeling at all, but he's too afraid to push her hand away.

"You're so beautiful…" she mutters, "Can I take a bite of you?"

He gulps again, unable to form an answer. But he manages to slightly shake his head from left to right; not that she actually cares for his response.

The smirk is still playing at her lips as she gets even closer. At this point, he doesn't know what to do.

She wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his, before promptly bringing her head down to connect their lips. His eyes widen as he tries to push her off, but she wouldn't budge. However, she did disconnect their lips.

Austin nearly lets out a sigh of relief, but stops short while she twists her neck to one side and leans down even more to bite his neck. He gasps in surprise at the sensation, not wanting it to feel good. It's just a pinch and it only lasted a few moments, but he has to admit that if it were the right girl, that's officially his sweet spot. He's found it.

But he doesn't want her there. He doesn't want her hands grazing over his body, or her lips on his'. He felt uncomfortable, to say the least.

At this revelation, he clears his throat and croaks out a timid plea.

"I don't want this. Please."

This doesn't seem to deter the woman from her activities, and she continues to partake in his body as if she hadn't heard him at all.

It's like his mind and body agreed to stop responding — because here this woman was, running her hands and lips all over him and pressing agonizingly close, but he couldn't do anything.

Not when she pulls his shirt up and off of his body.

Not when she licks his chest in a purely disgusting manner that he couldn't even consider sexy.

Not when her hands find the button on his jeans, popping it out of the hole, and then pulling the zipper down excruciatingly slow.

Not when she pushes him down onto his stomach, splaying him across the mattress.

Not when his jeans are forcefully pulled down his legs, followed by his boxer briefs.

He can't even do anything when she flips him around so that he's now on his back, staring up at her with a cold glare and tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

He hopes she's just trying to scare him. He hopes she won't do what he thinks.

But she offers no mercy, crossing her arms over her chest, grabbing at the bottom of her blouse, and pulling it seductively off her body. Then she zips down her pants and lets them fall to her knees.

After pulling all fabric off of her body so all that's left is her bra, she looks at him again and her smirk widens.

His tears flow down his cheeks like a waterfall. He sniffles loudly, hoping she notices that he really doesn't want this and will stop.

It's like taking a shot in the dark.

Because then she's on top of him, taking a hold of his member and rubbing the end of it as if to stimulate him. Then she takes it into her mouth and sucks — he gags at the feeling, letting a sob rip through his throat.

"Please," he whispers, "stop."

She doesn't. Five minutes pass and she's apparently having the time of her life compromising the only part of his body that he ever cared to keep private.

He feels used. And disgusting.

But it's not over yet. He realizes that she's not done when she lines up with his twitching entrance, and he squirms in attempt to make it not work but she only takes it to her advantage.

She has him pinned down, with one firm hand on his upper chest and other hand behind his head, pulling on the hair at the back of his head. He lays still against her rapid movements, tears streaming down his face, as she ravishes him. With each thrust, he can feel his dignity shedding. Each jarring motion pierces into him with a sensation that he can only describe as pain. There wasn't even a little amount of pleasure, as he expected there to be.

Nope. Nothing but searing hot pain coursing through his veins.

He had never been touched, or forced like this before — not that he was putting up much of a fight, but he still didn't want this.

Austin was dirty. No one would want him after this.

The first person he meets that doesn't mind the fact that he's damaged goods…he will marry them. It's the least he could do.

Because he doesn't deserve anything. Not after this. He's not even standing up for himself; who would want a pussy as a boyfriend? No one would date him for sure.

He can't say anything. He can't scream. And his occasional movements only increase the sheer pain that he's experiencing.

His lips are coated with salty tears, so when she leans down to press her lips against his', she groans.

Whether it's in satisfaction or frustration, he's not sure.

"Work with me here, you little bitch!"

She pulls away and slaps him, causing a loud 'smack' sound to echo throughout the room, allowing her thrusting to cease for a moment. It gives him a second to breathe, despite the stinging feeling on his cheek.

"Sissy," she mutters, tugging on his hair again.

He gasps in discomfort at the pull, and it dies in his throat as she starts up her thrusting again. This time, the hand that had been holding his chest down firmly was now grabbing a hold of the side of his neck.

She pinches, letting her nails dig into the skin and watching him squirm.

It continues.

It feels like an eternity.

He wonders when it will ever end.

IF it will ever end.

Austin jolts awake, shooting up out of his lying-down position on the bed.

He's hyperventilating, tears pricking at his eyes, and he doesn't even notice the pair of hazel eyes trailed on his shaking figure. Nor does he notice the frail arm wrapped around his frame, or the way it tightens up against him.

He feels a sweat bead roll down his forehead, making him aware of his temperature. Then suddenly he's too hot under the sheets, so he hastily pulls the covers off of him, turning so that his feet are on the floor.

"Aus, babe? Are you okay?"

Ally's concerned voice is quiet, but there. She shifts so that she's behind him, and she gently rests a hand on his back. He flinches slightly at her touch, but then relaxes. She feels him breathe in slowly, then out again.

Her heart breaks when she hears him sniffle.

Then he shakes his head, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes.

"Just… bad dream," he mutters.

Ally rubs his back reassuringly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

He scoffs, then shakes his head.

"I already did, just—" his voice cracks, "Just not in detail."

It takes her tired brain a moment to figure it out, but her breath hitches the second she does. He rubs a hand over his face, exhaling slowly, trying to calm himself down.

"You-you dreamt about it? Like… the entire thing?"

He gulps, nodding once.

"I basically relived it."

Ally hears him sniffle again and her heart shatters.

"…The first time?"

God, she hopes the answer to that is a 'no.'

He hesitates, before whispering.

"Yeah."

'Holy shit,' she realized. 'He just relived the most traumatizing moment in his life.'

She's not sure what to say, so she continues rubbing small circles into his back as he breathes heavily. He's not hyperventilating anymore, though, so that's good.

When he sniffles again, she can't help herself. She gets out of the bed and kneels in front of him, taking a hold of his hand.

There are tears spilling out of his eyes, creating a red ring around them. His nose is red and stuffy, and his lips slightly quiver.

Ally frowns, rubbing her thumb over one of his knuckles in hopes that it will calm him some.

He looks up to her with such desperation and sadness that she's never seen from him, and it worries her.

"Baby, I'm right here," she says softly, offering a small smile.

She watches as he gulps and takes another deep breath. Then he shuts his eyes tight, letting the last few tears out before wiping them away.

"I know," he breathes. "Thank you."

"Always."

He shakes his head, looking at her seriously (as serious as his tired eyes allow).

"No," he squeezes her hand. "Thank you. For not judging me when I first told you, or any time after that. I've always been…really insecure…after it happened. I've always felt like damaged goods and that no one would want me…"

The brunette shakes her head, squeezing his hand tighter.

"That's stupid. You shouldn't be feeling that way. And I know I've told you this a million times already, but I will always want you.

But I would never force you into anything you don't want to do. It's wrong that five women decided it was okay to do that, because it's not."

Austin's eyes shift to his lap as she continues.

"You didn't deserve to go through that; no one does, and it doesn't make you weak for not pushing them away. How you grew up is a big factor in how you handle things; it's like that for everyone.

Please, Austin. You shouldn't have to thank me for being a decent human being. You don't need to."

Austin is brought to tears once more as she finishes, and he pulls her in for a tight hug. He holds her with all his might, never wanting to let this woman go.

Man, is he glad that she's his wife. He really can't picture anyone more perfect.

"Aus… look, it's late. Can we go back to sleep?"

Her muffled voice, from hiding her face in his shoulder, makes him smile. He nods.

"Yeah."

There's a laugh in his voice.

Ally is very happy that it's there.

She pulls away from his hold and glances at his arm.

Then, she traces over the bold word and hums softly.

Austin watches her fondly. It had become habit for her, to do this every time he had a bad night.

He knows it's her subtle reminder of his strength, without having to say a word. She doesn't have to; he knows what his tattoo says, and why it's such a big deal for her.

His ex-girlfriend had seen it and never said a word. When he became curious, she said, "Getting such a huge tattoo like that… it's really dramatic. Kinda gives me attention-whore vibes, if I'm honest. No one puts that on themselves without wanting to seem emo."

The word had come out of her mouth with such distaste, and he took great offense to her claims of him being an attention-whore. If anything, he avoided it as much as he could. But what really stung about her words was the disrespect. She never showed any interest in that specific tattoo and judged his actions before he even told her.

He wonders why he didn't just break up with her then.

Ally, on the other hand, had been asking about it — sweetly — since their second date. He kept saying no, but she kept pushing. In a way, he's glad that she pushed. If he never let it out, he's not sure where he would be right now.

Certainly, he would not be sitting at the edge of their bed holding her hand and crying into her shoulders.

Certainly, he would most likely be unhappy with his love life and upset that no one would accept his deepest flaws and insecurities.

Certainly… he never would have told her. But then he wouldn't have this amazing all-in-one support system.

On nights like these, he needs the girl in front of him. He wishes he weren't so reliant — he never used to be — but once he got the taste of true affection and care, it was hard to let go.

"I love you," he blurts.

Her eyes meet his and she smiles, showing her pearly whites. Her hand ceases on his bicep.

"I love you too."

Then they lean in and share a loving kiss. Austin's memories are wiped clean; the only woman's lips he has ever felt on his' were Ally Moon's. Her sweet, strawberry flavored lips, which are so soft and gentle.

Yeah, he was a survivor. But right now he was thriving.

Life was never better.


Yeah well when do I not end with a cheesy-ass line? Never.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed!

Lemme know if you want me to write any more fics in the Ink-verse, I'm running out of ideas but suggest one and then I'll credit ya!

As always, please review and I'll see you in my next fic!

Xx Lis