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bitterie-sweetie · 2 months

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Fake it til you make it

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader Genre: fluff, fake dating WC: 6.5k Warnings: alcohol A/N: yes it's about vday buuut it's actually for @syuperseventeen's bdayyy!!! surprise surprise! happy birthday nat, i hope this year is even better and filled with many things to look forward to <3

Your Valentine’s date with Jeonghan is coming up and yet the only thing on your mind is how to break up with him. Of course breaking up with someone is difficult, but you’d argue that what’s more difficult is breaking up with someone you never even dated.

Jeonghan is a prankster.

Growing up, you’d often be on the receiving end of his pranks at school. Third grade “initiation” had you drenched in water after he told you to pin a cup against the wall with a straw, and in ninth grade you had tears streaming down your face after eating an entire scoop of wasabi—not the matcha ice cream he said it was. Then there was the time he did something to make your first crush hate you, which, in hindsight, was a good thing because the guy turned out to be a total asshole.

It wasn’t Jeonghan’s fault entirely when you were too willing to fall for his pranks because being the target of a prank meant having his attention, and that’s something that you wanted. Jeonghan had a way of making everyone feel special, and his attention was a limelight that you never wanted to step out of.

Honestly, you might’ve kept up with it if he kept going. But then that fateful day came and it was like you were suddenly on his side, working with him instead of being the victim to his antics, and you’d say that that’s what has kept the two of you together after all these years.

Well, at least until now.

“Hey,” you greet in a rush, looking around the table at everyone and seeing that you’re truly the last one to arrive. Usually, you’d give that place to Lee Chan; he’s the most popular of your friend group and almost always has a prior appointment to your meetups. “Sorry I’m late. My train was delayed and—oh, did you already order for me?”

Jeonghan slides a sealed bubble tea across the table and sets it in front of your seat—the one empty chair right beside him, no less. When you glance at him questioningly he shrugs and tilts his head towards the crowd at the front. “The line was too long so I ordered yours with mine. Hope you’re feeling like your usual today.”

Indeed, the sticker on the cup shows that it’s your go-to order. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Thanks, babe.”

Today’s meet up with your friend group is the first of the year and it’s also the first time you’re seeing everyone since Chan’s wedding… including Jeonghan. You would’ve spent Christmas and New Year’s with him had he not cancelled on you, and now that bit of distance has manifested into a larger uncertainty for you over the past while. Even now, the ‘babe’ seemed to come out awkwardly, sticking to your throat.

“Wow, you guys are actually disgusting. I hope you know that.” Seungkwan makes a face at you, and beside him, Soonyoung nods a few times in agreement.

You plaster on a smile. “It’s okay to just say you’re jealous.”

The only response you get is an eye-roll from Soonyoung, and then everyone moves on, thankfully. Mingyu asks you what you’ve been up to so you talk about your recent promotion at work and some new habits you’ve started in the new year, and when you sense that the conversation is starting to approach the territory of your future with Jeonghan, you gently steer it towards Chan. After all, he’s the one that got married just a few months ago, and you know he would never miss the chance to talk about his amazing honeymoon and how great this new chapter of his life is going.

There is truly nothing like adult friendships and its quarterly updates.

Once there’s a bit of a lull in the conversation, Jeonghan turns to you. “What are you doing this week?”

“Oh, this week?” Your heart speeds up tenfold at the uncertainty of what might come next. “Hmm well, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, exactly.” He nods and much to your relief, there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. “So I’ll see you for our date then?”

“Of course, babe.”

“Can’t you guys do this somewhere else?” Soonyoung says as he stares daggers in your direction. You totally understand and sympathize with that though; today you’re turning up the sweetness more than usual to compensate for the distance you actually feel, unfortunately at the expense of your friends.

Jeonghan completely ignores Soonyoung’s complaint and doesn’t even look his way. “That’s good,” he says, leaning back in his seat and almost looking relieved at your answer. “I was afraid my darling might not have time for me anymore.”

“What? No way. Did you have anything in mind for our date?”

“Hmm, yes but it’s a surprise. I’ll text you the details later.”

“Well, uh, I have to run,” Chan says, slowly getting up from his seat. The rest of you hardly bat an eye, having gotten too used to his busy schedule. “It was nice seeing everyone. You guys should come over for my housewarming once everything is set up.”

Mingyu stands up too. “Oh, I actually have to go too; got a dinner with Wonwoo later.”

…On second thought, perhaps you overcompensated a bit too much with the cringe. Soonyoung and Seungkwan leave soon after getting a call from their roommate, Seokmin, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan at the table. Still seated side by side, your arm occasionally brushing against his.

“How have you really been?” he asks in a low voice.

“Decent, I guess, despite the winter blues and all. It’s pretty much what I said earlier.” You shrug when he remains silent. “Why do you ask? Do I look depressed or something?”

“No,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “not depressed, exactly, but I wanted to see if you’re as sad as I am about not seeing each other in so long.” Then he leans in a bit closer, as if to whisper a secret. “I missed you, darling.”

It’s times like this when you feel like he’s toeing the line. There’s a small smile lingering on his lips and a softer look in his eyes, not at all like the overdone sweetness to the point of sarcasm from before, but you can never tell if he really means what he says or if this is just part of the act.

Regardless, it makes your face feel hot and it makes you unable to look directly at him.

“Oh… yeah,” you say, trying to make a quick recovery. “It’s too bad we missed out on the holidays but at least we get Valentine’s Day.”

“Yup, that’s exactly why I have something special in mind for that day. I want to make it up to you, darling.”

You give him a smile and then go to take a sip of your drink, and that’s pretty much the end of the conversation. Despite saying he misses you, it’s interesting how he doesn’t explain why he bailed on the holidays in the first place, and you don’t know whether you should ask about it at this point.

Or if you should even be curious about such a thing.

Jeonghan pulls you out of your thoughts with a brush of his hand on yours. “It’s getting dark. Let’s head out?”

You agree and then let him hold your hand, lace his fingers with yours, and then lead you out of the shop. He doesn’t let go until you cross the parking lot and get to his car. It’s strange, you think. You can’t seem to recall the last time the two of you held hands so naturally like this especially when there’s no one else around.

In fact, when the two of you are alone, the sickening sweetness is always toned down but not completely dropped. Now, Jeonghan’s smiles are softer around the edges like they’re less exaggerated, less of a performance, and when he calls you darling, his voice is quieter and isn’t at all coated in the sticky honey you’re used to. When he hugs you goodbye at your door, it’s a loose hug and almost has a degree of uncertainty.

Jeonghan steps back but lingers just for a second. “I’ll see you in a few days for our date, darling.”

“Of course,” you put on a smile, “I can’t wait, babe.”

He waits until you get into your building before giving a little wave and then heading on his way.

After you close the door behind you and collapse onto your bed, you heave a sigh and finally let the smile slip from your lips. So there would be a Valentine’s date this year after all; the anticipation makes your heart speed up the slightest but at the same time makes you all the more anxious. You thought that he really would end things today, and if not, that you should be the one to do so. But seeing him after so long, feeling the way the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin, basking in the brightness of his smiles, you simply couldn’t utter those words.

Perhaps Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be the right time to do it either, or maybe your date won’t end up happening for whatever reason. You know that this is something you have to do, but the question is how exactly would you go about doing it? Because there is one major problem.

You’re not dating Jeonghan at all.

One moment in high school is what started this whole thing.

It was eleventh grade drama class—which Jeonghan thought would be fun to take as an elective—that resulted in the two of you being cast in the school play. Although neither of you landed a role that was remotely close to important, Jeonghan decided to have fun with it and improvise during your one minute of screen time and that somehow turned your insignificant cameos into a beautiful romance that had the audience rooting for you.

And that very moment somehow managed to embed itself so deeply in your relationship with Jeonghan that it became a long running joke to this day.

Today you’re sitting across from Soonyoung and Seungkwan again, with Mingyu beside you this time. Almost an exact replica of last week’s meetup, but Chan already has plans and Jeonghan is very obviously missing—something Soonyoung points out immediately.

“Wow, no Jeonghan today?” he says loudly even before the hostess is out of earshot. The people at the two tables nearby glance in your direction and you start to regret coming here at all. “We really won this one. Y/N, we should do this more often.”

You definitely should not. “Um, yeah. Totally.”

Last week’s meeting with your friends is what gave you the idea to consult with them about your situation. You first suggested the idea to Mingyu, and then used the prospect of free food to get Soonyoung and Seungkwan to come out, and naturally, Chan is busy so it ends up being the four of you at brunch. Which is better on your wallet, you think. You get the feeling that this quarterly meetup can totally happen more often if you were to make this offer every time.

As for what you’re about to ask… well, truthfully, you still don’t know if you should even do it. You’ve gone so many years without saying a word that it’d simply be odd to ask now, plus you would run the risk of making everything weird. But if you don’t do it, you would only end up making it weird anyway because how much longer can you go on pretending?

Besides, it’s not only you and Jeonghan who are prolonging this inside joke for way longer than it should’ve lasted. All of your friends should be in on it if they treat the two of you like a couple too.

The waiter comes by to take your orders, and you try not to wince at the entire list that comes out of Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s mouths. Mingyu gets the least, seemingly knowing that something is up if the worried glances he throws your way is anything to go by.

Once the waiter leaves, that’s when the small talk stops and all eyes turn to you.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Soonyoung asks with a goofy grin. “Since Jeonghan’s not here, does that mean you need help with Valentine’s Day plans or something?”

Beside him, Seungkwan has the complete opposite expression as he eyes you warily between sips of his americano.

You take a huge swig of water like it’s liquid courage, and then go for it. “This is going to sound weird…” you start, trying not to notice the way Seungkwan tenses up as if bracing for your words, “but I wanted to ask you guys what my relationship with Jeonghan is.”

Silence. Complete, dead silence.

Soonyoung freezes like he’s in a photograph while Seungkwan’s hand holding his americano hangs in mid air as a drop of the drink dribbles down the side of his lip.

“Sorry, what?” It’s Soonyoung who recovers first. “I think I heard that wrong.”

You shake your head. “Just tell me.”

“You’re asking us what your relationship with your own boyfriend is?”

“Boyfriend—exactly!” You have to hold back all the thoughts you have on the topic. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. So you think he’s my boyfriend? That we’re dating?”

Soonyoung frowns but it’s Seungkwan who answers, exasperated. “Y/N, what are you trying to say here? Are you trying to say you guys broke up? Or do you think we don’t know you well enough and this is a test? Can you say whatever it is directly—”

“Jeonghan and I aren’t together.”

There, you said it. Your biggest secret is out.

It should make you relieved to finally let out the secret you’ve been harbouring for years or it should at least alleviate some of the weight on your chest, but it doesn’t. The silence in the wake of your confession only closes in on you and makes it all the more suffocating.

“Any—anymore?”

“No. We were never together.”

The bit of silence from earlier repeats itself. Maybe you should become a speaker or presenter with your ability to draw such reactions from a crowd.

Seungkwan noisily sets down his drink and then leans forward with a frown. He’s still in denial, that much is obvious, and he narrows his eyes as he asks, “Is this a joke? A hidden camera? Are you trying to prank us like Jeonghan—”

“No, I’m completely serious. It’s really not what it seems, and this is why I’m asking you guys what you see us as because at this point I don’t even know the answer myself.”

With a deep breath, you tell them the truth about this entire thing.

You tell them about the high school play and your impromptu acting, and how that led for the two of you to become the famous couple at school afterwards. Sure, it might’ve been a good thing because that meant your acting was believable. But to two people who were interested in just about anything except love at that age, it was annoying and gross.

After the show when the shippers wouldn’t stop, the two of you decided to do what you do best—pull a prank. You spent that Valentine’s Day together as a joke and acted extra disgusting to mock couples while making fun of how stupid people were to believe whatever you showed them. In twelfth grade, the two of you did the same for Valentine’s Day and then even went to prom together as a joke.

In recent years, however, the annual joke of a Valentine’s Day date has turned into his Christmas and your Lunar New Year, his cousin’s graduation, your coworker’s housewarming, and Lee Chan’s wedding. It’s made you on a texting basis with his sister and it’s made him familiar with all your favourite food spots and go-to orders. It’s turned him into someone who’s simultaneously as distant as an acquaintance yet closer than a best friend.

And so, here you are, living an entire lie because you and Jeonghan had the whole world fooled.

“That’s insane,” Soonyoung says when you finally finish the story, unable to look your way and instead, stares into his drink with how mind blown he is.

Seungkwan, on the other hand, remains a bit skeptical. “Okay, but then what was with all that PDA?All the kissing? Is this some sort of situationship?”

“Oh, um.” Immediately you can feel your cheeks heating up. You didn’t think this far at all but now it seems like the entire truth will have to come out. “All of it was fake. We’ve… never actually kissed.”

That drama class has taught you more than you needed to know about manipulating angles and the audience’s perception, and Jeonghan is very good at it. Your fake kisses were often just a trick of the angle or occasionally using the thumb trick, and having seen the evidence captured in photos over the years, you know how convincing it can look.

Now, it’s embarrassing to admit for reasons you never would’ve imagined. Admitting to pulling a childish prank like this is one thing, but the realization that you and Jeonghan have faked it for so long without ever once making it real has you feeling almost dejected.

“I always knew Jeonghan was crazy but I didn’t know he’d be *this* crazy.” Soonyoung now has his head in his hands and is staring off into space. “This is the most insane story I’ve ever heard. I’m not sure if I should be happy for you or sad.”

You give a wry smile. “Yeah, well, I get why you would think we were together though. You met us in college and wouldn’t have known about what happened in the past so I guess there would never be a reason to question it.”

Beside you, Mingyu clears his throat and you turn to look at him. He’s been so quiet throughout your story that you were too busy focusing on the reactions of the other two, but looking at him now, his reaction is entirely different. Mingyu isn’t as surprised as he is concerned. “Actually, Y/N, a few years ago…” he says hesitantly, “there was a time when I asked him if you were actually dating.”

“You did? What did he say?”

“He didn’t deny it.”

“Well, we all know how he loves to be ambiguous and leave things a mystery.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “No—see, that’s what I thought too, but it was different that time. At first he didn’t deny it, but when I pushed a bit more, he said that you’re dating. In actual words and with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face.”

This is news to you. You always assumed that they were all in on the joke and would’ve never guessed that anyone actually asked Jeonghan, but the fact that he answered that way is all the more baffling.

“I don’t get it. Why would he tell you that?”

“Yeah, so,” Soonyoung says, “from then on we all thought that was fully confirmed, and he never said or implied otherwise.”

“Right…”

Mingyu nudges you gently. “Y/N, are you telling us about this now because you’re planning on stopping the act? Has it been bothering you? Or did something happen?”

“Is that why you wanted to tell us today?” Soonyoung lets out a dramatic gasp and leans all the back in his chair, hands over his mouth. “Don’t tell me—are you going to stop the act because you have a crush on someone?”

“What? No, definitely not. It’s not that, it’s—”

Here’s the next part of your big secret being revealed, something you weren’t entirely ready for but you tell yourself that this needs to happen.

It’s because of your feelings for Jeonghan. Your very real, very genuine feelings that have nothing to do with this prank.

Truthfully, you can’t pinpoint when you started feeling this way, much like you’re not sure how this joke was able to stick around for so long. It could be the most recent development—when your friend tried to convince you to hop on a dating app, all you could think about was how wrong it felt because you already had Jeonghan. Or maybe it was the Valentine’s Day just before college graduation when he leaned in so closely you thought he was going to kiss you, for real this time, and then only realizing much later that you were disappointed that it wasn’t real.

Or perhaps it started way back, to the time he asked you to prom—he said he didn’t have a date only for you to later find out he’d already rejected two promposals from other people. All for your fake relationship, supposedly.

And now, for you, what has started as a harmless prank has turned into something much more than that over the years.

Everyone looks like they're at a loss for words after that part, and even Soonyoung has lost his enthusiasm after hearing it. “Shit, that’s…” he starts. “Okay, yeah, I’m definitely sad for you.”

Seungkwan and Mingyu have similar sentiments but you wave them off, eager to lighten the mood again after such heavy topics. The food on the table has been long finished and you’re beginning to feel like you’re overstaying your welcome when there’s a crowd waiting at the front of the restaurant. “It’s fine, it’s whatever. I just wanted to get this off my chest today so that I can figure things out before I see him in a few days.”

A while later, you finish paying and then all head out together.

The conversation continues to replay itself in your head, and you realize there is one thing you’re curious about. You turn to Mingyu. “By the way—Mingyu, why *did* you ask Jeonghan if we were actually dating?”

Mingyu stops mid-stride and freezes like a deer in headlights, clearly not expecting your question at all. “I—um, I was asking for a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah, Chan.” He nods a few times in a row. “I thought Chan had a crush on you and I was trying to help him out.”

Strange, seeing as you’ve probably interacted with Chan the least among your friend group. He’s simply too booked and busy to hang out with you, and has been all throughout your college years together.

Oh, and he’s married.

“Like, before he met his wife?” you ask.

Soonyoung starts to cough furiously from where he is a few steps ahead while Mingyu’s cheeks redden the slightest bit.

You vaguely remember the first time the two of you did this, and how it wasn’t anything like how it’s going now.

Tonight is the night you’re supposed to go on your date with Jeonghan, and you’ve been buzzing with nerves since the night before. You have no idea what to expect for tonight since all he told you about it was to show up at his apartment, and that in itself was slightly concerning as you’ve never been to his home before nor has he been so secretive about any plans. Usually the two of you would be going to a casual place or would have the schedule shared ahead of time if it was a more formal event that needed preparation.

Jeonghan buzzes you in when you arrive and before you can say you’ll wait for him in the lobby, he tells you to go up to his unit. Again, a bit strange. You do as he asks though, and then even go to knock on the door when there’s no sign of him coming out.

When he opens the door and steps aside, that’s when everything clicks—you’re not here so that he can get his car and take you to your date location. This *is* the date location.

Beyond the doorway, you can see that his apartment is completely decorated. Rose petals line the sides of the hall and lead to the dining table, covered in a deep red tablecloth and perfectly set for your meal. Beside it, a large bouquet of roses rests at the center of the sideboard surrounded by a row of flickering candles which light up the space.

Even without knowing what his home normally looks like, it’s obvious that all this would’ve taken a lot of effort to set up.

“Jeonghan, why did you prepare all this?”

He gives you a dazzling smile. “Because my darling deserves the best, of course. I told you I was going to make it up to you for cancelling Christmas.”

“Babe, that’s too sweet of you. You really didn’t have to.” You try to return his smile but it doesn’t come easy when this whole situation is overwhelming. Then you let him take your coat and then guide you to the dining table where everything is set up.

Only when you’re seated do you realize that his response doesn’t answer your question at all.

The scent of the roses fill the room and looking at them gives you a pang in your heart. This is what the two of you used to make fun of—these big, romantic gestures, and the couples that willingly eat them up. Now it’s as if the tables have turned and you don’t know what to think.

If this were in public, in front of your friends or other people, you would’ve said that it was another funny gesture that Jeonghan put up for the sake of making them cringe. Because the two of you were the perfect joking, prankster couple, right?

Now that it’s just you and him here, it confuses you as to why he’s going to such lengths for a joke when it’s something that no one else would see, when there’s no audience to watch his performance.

You watch as Jeonghan busies himself in the kitchen, serving the food that he’s prepared and pouring the wine into glasses while glancing your way every once in a while. He looks pleased, you note, and he should be if he got his space to look this beautiful. But you can sense that there’s something else too, almost like a nervousness that sits on his shoulder every time he breezes past you and makes eye contact for the briefest second.

After everything is ready, he finally takes a seat across from you and the dinner begins.

Making small talk is easy at first; you comment on your surprise at this type of date, talk about how cold it’s been lately and how it sucks that your company is forcing you to go back into the office. You ask him how his holiday went and how his family has been, and mention how cute his sister’s new puppy is after seeing a post about it on her social media.

You know you’re just delaying the inevitable. Somehow you get the feeling he knows it too, judging by the way his answers are shorter than usual and how your conversation feels so superficial. So this time after there’s a lull in the conversation, you decide to go for it.

"Jeonghan, um…"

"Hmm?" He looks at you and waits for you to continue, but you don't. Or rather, you can't. "Ah, you're going to comment on how good this is, right?" he says instead, as if supplying you with a way out.

You're all too eager to grab onto it. "Wow, you read my mind." An enthusiastic nod, a slight look of surprise. "It's amazing. Did you make all this yourself?"

Jeonghan shakes his head and then follows up with a sheepish smile. "Partly. The rest is store bought."

Another nod, and then it just ends there again. Seated in this spot with the soft lighting of flickering candles cast against the wall and the heat of Jeonghan's gaze on you, the feeling of discomfort only grows. It's hard to remember what the two of you were like before, during the days when everything seemed so silly–when each move was a clearly defined act between two actors and the world was your stage. And most importantly, when each smile he showed you didn't send your stomach into somersaults or your mind into a loop of second guessing.

The air is so heavy and stifling that you grab your glass and down a large gulp of the wine. At least when you're drinking, you wouldn’t have to speak, whether that might be responding to him in a way that gives away all of your thoughts, or completely spilling them out yourself. Maybe the alcohol will also drown out some of your anxieties and–

"Hey, slow down." Jeonghan glances at you with worry. "We have all night."

You set the glass down, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Right, sorry. This wine is just so good."

Yet another lie, but what's one more at this point? The wine is much too sour and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You would've much preferred a soda or bubble tea, and drinking something fancy like this during such a fancy occasion makes you feel like you're pretending to be someone you're not.

Which is exactly what you're doing, isn't it? You've been living a lie this entire time.

You briefly wonder if Jeonghan feels the same way—the two of you have never properly spent time alone in complete privacy, and to have your first time be in such a formal atmosphere must feel strange. But if he's uncomfortable, he makes no sign of showing it. Or maybe he's always been the better actor of the two of you.

“You know, since you mentioned seasonal depression, I was thinking that for Christmas this year we should go somewhere. Somewhere warm and sunny to get away from the cold.”

“Oh, this year?” you repeat stupidly when you can’t quite believe what you’re hearing. Jeonghan wants to continue this thing? And here you were, thinking that he was about to end it at any moment for the past few months. “Um, yeah. That would be nice.”

“Or it could be a fall trip. Your parents have been wanting to go see the leaves change colour, right?”

There’s no hint of sarcasm on his face and no playful twinkle in his eye, and even though no one can read him very well, you know enough to tell that he’s being serious. You also know that what he’s saying makes no sense at all.

“Right, yeah. They’ve been wanting to do that.”

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply automatically, and then reach for another long gulp of your drink. “Yup, all good.”

Jeonghan frowns, a tiny crease appearing between his brows. “Are you sure? If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

It’s strange, the way he looks at you. Jeonghan, who dances around questions and deflects easily with humour and only shows people what he wants them to see, now has worry filling his eyes as he waits for you to continue. As if he *knows*.

You doubt Soonyoung and Seungkwan would have spilled your secret so easily, but there’s a great possibility that the two of them would be unable to act normal around him after what they learned, and unintentionally hint at the truth. Then there’s the other possibility that Jeonghan knew way before any of this. Because maybe he—

No, you don’t want to think about that.

“It’s just that,” you say, having to force yourself to pause and slow down your thoughts before something terrible comes spewing out. A slow inhale, a shaky exhale. “Why are we here, Jeonghan?”

His frown deepens, but now it’s turned into confusion. “What do you mean?”

“What are we doing? This date has been nice, but I’m just very confused over why you put so much effort into this when there’s no one else around to see it. Weren’t we doing all of this as a joke? As a prank? Pretending to be a couple so that we can fool the world since that’s exactly what they wanted to see, but joke’s on them because we’re not?”

Jeonghan watches you silently with an unreadable look on his face. “Is that how you feel?”

“’Well, yes, because isn’t that the truth? And now, we’ve been doing so much together that it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. How can it be when your mom is offering to give me homemade side dishes? Or—or when Chan’s wife was there, smiling at us on her wedding day like she wished we’d be just as happy as they are?” You pause to look at him and then proceed to look away. “How long are we going to continue lying to the world? Because I can’t stand the guilt.”

The last part of that may be true, but it’s not the full truth.

“Yeah, you’re right. We don’t have to keep doing this.”

“W—what?” You stare at him, dumbfounded.

Jeonghan sighs deeply and then meets your eyes, but then quickly looks away. “Yeah, we should’ve left this in high school. The joke has kind of gotten old, hasn’t it?”

You have no idea what he means by any of that, but it feels like you’re better off not knowing. The tension in the air is thick, and even when you imagined your fake breakup hundreds of times in your head, this is not something you could have predicted. It’s as you’re on a precipice, and one wrong move will delete all those years, all that time you spent with him.

And the worst part is that you don’t even want to break up.

“Jeonghan, look. I know all of this is supposed to be a joke, but why is it that it feels like you really do care?” One last deep breath before you make the jump. “And why is it that I *want* you to care?”

That has him stunned for a second, so much that the expression is obvious on his face in a way that almost never happens.

“Wait, what? I do care. No, I get that we started all this for fun back then, but that’s not how I feel about it now. Everything we’ve done is real—trust me, I wouldn’t have brought you to my family if that wasn’t the case. And I never thought I was lying to them. It’s exaggerated, yes, and much too dramatic, but I’m not a good enough actor where all that can be based on a complete lie.”

You braced yourself for the final blow, only to be completely confused over his words. “What are you saying?”

“Y/N, it’s always been real to me. All of it.”

“But—but I thought you wanted to stop all this when you cancelled our plans for Christmas. Why did you do that?”

Jeonghan opens his mouth a little but then closes it again. “Do you remember last year at Chan’s wedding when you caught the bouquet?”

You nod but don’t hide your confusion about where this is going.

“After you caught it, everyone was looking at you… and then at me. It was like they all expected us to be next, because well,” he shrugs, “everyone thought we were together. And that’s when I realized that this is more than simply feeling like it’s real. We were turning it into something real.”

“So you called off Christmas because you wanted to stop doing this? Because you hated how it was becoming real?”

“No,” Jeonghan shakes his head. “The opposite. I was afraid of how much I liked that it felt real. That day at the wedding, I—I wanted to kiss you for real, Y/N. Not have to fake it.”

“Oh…”

“If we did meet up for Christmas, I don’t know what might’ve happened. I thought it was safer to stay away for a bit and gather my thoughts.” He hesitates slightly and you can see the pained smile he has on. “But one day into the holidays and I was already regretting my decision.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Your mind is hardly listening anymore when it keeps on repeating Jeonghan’s words like a broken record, screaming to you that it’s real, that all of it is real. That you’re not the only one who’s been feeling this way, and that you won’t need to stage a fake breakup for your fake relationship.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I’m just—are you sure all this is real? Jeonghan, are you being serious?”

He breaks into a tender smile. “Don’t you remember? I already answered you back then, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me if I’d be your darling, even if thousands of miles may separate us, even if—”

“—if the paths we walk may crumble,” you finish off. “Or something like that. I actually have no idea what we said back then.”

Those were the lines in the play that you did back in high school, the very lines that the two of you conjured out of thin air one day and the very moment that started this whole thing.

“Yeah, that,” he says softly.

“Hmm, so, babe,” you put on your usual mockingly sweet tone, repeating the line that you said on stage many years ago, “are you going to kiss me?”

Jeonghan holds back a smile like he can’t contain his happiness, and follows with his line without missing a beat. “If that’s what my darling wants.”

The smile only widens when he gets up from his seat and you go to meet him halfway, and it’s the last thing you see when he leans in closer and closer. Jeonghan gently slides his thumb between his lips and yours as he closes the distance, like how it was done the very first time, but this time you can feel it as he slowly moves it away.

Then you’re kissing him, actually kissing him for real for the first time. His lips are soft and warm, and the bit of hesitance between you seems to completely melt away as you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer. You let yourself drown in his scent, the warmth of his touch, and the loud pounding of your heart now that you no longer have to be paying attention to the reactions of the people around you. Nothing else matters anymore, all that matters is what you have now.

You spend the rest of the night catching up, whether that’d be stories over the years of shared memories, or creating new memories to make up for the lost time. He tells you he loves you and that the trip suggestions were very much real, and the two of you laugh over how you’ve become the exact couple you once mocked. It’s easy to understand them now though, you think as Jeonghan gives you a sleepy smile as you’re cuddled up on the couch.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask something,” you say, and he looks at you in alarm at your abruptness. “Why did you tell Mingyu that we were together?”

Jeonghan stays silent for a bit, narrowing his eyes as if having difficulty recalling what you’re talking about. Then he finally answers. “Oh that?” He chuckles. “That was because I didn’t want him to think he had a chance with you.”

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #jeonghan fic #my fic #if you asked me just last week if i was ever gonna post again #i might've said no HAHAHA #truly this came out of nowhere!! and yes it's so rushed OTL #not a brand new idea tho bc it's smth i've been thinking about over the years #kinda inspired by an iconic tumblr post!!#tbh the first jeonghan fic on this blog was gonna be #his story of the holiday party series (i wrote 6k in dec and gave up)#was gonna scrap it but i reread it this week and it's not bad??#so try again this year ig 🤡

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 22 days

Note

Am I the asshole for not letting my husband have a say for the guest list of our baby shower?

I (21 f) and my husband (25 m) moved very quickly in our relationship, much to the judgement of my sister. We moved in with each other after a month of dating and she basically told me it was a stupid idea. We also got eloped with no family or friends there four months after that. When I texted my sister we got married (yes, I texted everyone instead of called) she asked if it was a joke and when I said yes then sent a picture of marriage license as proof, she didn’t respond for days. She called me later which I sent to voicemail, which was basically her crying saying she always imagined she’d be at my wedding and was hurt. I was upset because no one was invited or even told about the engagement; that was the point of eloping. The rest of my family was pretty happy for us though and I focused on that.

We didn’t talk for months because I wanted an apology, or at least a congratulations on getting married. She texted me a few times about nothing important (she sent a few memes). An apology never happened, but I started to text her again because I found out I was pregnant and wanted her to know about it. I called her about it eventually and she was supportive.

Before the Not Talking stage happened, her and my husband didn’t get along. She has made multiple passive aggressive comments about our relationship in the past. There was one time she visited us that made my husband upset because she showed up with little notice and also insisted on visiting again when our cat gave birth to her litter of kittens. She talked about helping and I didn’t really think anything of it. My husband later said he was upset she acted like she knew our cat better than us based off a couple of other comments she made and didn’t like how she invited herself over. I don’t think she meant anything negative about it, but it was annoying she insisted on one specific cat thing we told her we had under control and didn’t stop pestering until my mom called the vet to ask for advise and the vet agreed with my husband and I about how we handled the cat situation. I’m not sure if I explained that well but I honestly don’t know how to describe it without going into too much detail. This is just background info.

My husband and I wanted to do a gender reveal for the baby. We agreed on the theme and had a general date in mind. I invited my immediate family, best friend, and his immediate family that he talked to (which only consisted of three people). He said he didn’t want my sister at the gender reveal and this caused a huge fight. He said if she was there then he wouldn’t show up and I could tell him the babies gender on the phone. I cancelled the gender reveal because I didn’t want to uninvite my sister when she hasn’t made any bad comments in months and also wasn’t about to have my husband not be there. In my mind, there’s zero point in having one if both parents aren’t there. We found out gender by having our doctor write it down on a paper and we opened it later by ourselves. We told everyone over the phone what we are having.

Now, I am pretty far along in my pregnancy and my family wanted to set up a baby shower for me. I let them and we set up a date for it. My husband and I talked about the baby shower multiple times and looked forward to it. I Facebook invited the same people I invited to the gender reveal to the baby shower and he wasn’t happy when he saw my sister was again on that list. Him and my sister has only seen each other one time during these months, which was at a funeral. My sister initiated a handshake which he accepted and asked how he was. He answered fine and that was the end of it.

The baby shower argument was the same for gender reveal. He didn’t want her there and he didn’t want to come if she was there. He said I shouldn’t want someone who has done nothing but disrespect both of us in the past year to be at this event and should get a say in who comes and who doesn’t. There’s no excuse for the things my sister has done and said but it felt wrong to exclude her. If she wasn’t going to be invited to the baby shower, then what was his opinion on our son’s birthdays and other events? We couldn’t do this forever. She hasn’t been rude in months but we never got an apology. I’m also a little bitter about it but I’m trying to not be harsh. At this point, I didn’t say much when my husband said she couldn’t be there. This is because we just got done with a different argument about something completely different and he said he was done about certain things. I said ‘like what?’ and he told me he didn’t want my sister at the baby shower.

He said he wouldn’t have invited anyone that has disrespected me and I shouldn’t either. It sounds fair but it also sounds very black and white. I get along with the family he talks to outside of family events. I don’t get along with a couple of extended family members but he doesn’t get a say in who was invited to those events and never talks to them outside of those family events even before we were together. I didn’t really say anything for my argument because I knew he wouldn’t agree with it anyway. This sounds calm but he was very angry and I was crying pretty hard. He asked over and over again if she was coming to the baby shower and I refused to respond. If I say she’s not coming then I’ll have to follow my word and uninvite her, probably causing arguments within my family. If I say she is then he won’t come. (I’m not sure if this is relevant but my husband and I are both autistic and have been known to shut down and stim when we’re upset). He said he’s tired of being disrespected when I refused to answer for 30+ minutes and wanted a divorce. He crumbled up our marriage license and took my wedding ring off my finger.

He didn’t say anything about the baby shower and started asking questions about the divorce. ‘How much do you want in child support? When do you want to do visitation? Etc.’ I refused to answer for a while but he kept asking and I mostly gave vague answers like ‘whatever you want’ all while still crying. I didn’t say much except to say he was staying and we weren’t getting a divorce.

I don’t remember what happened next and what I said, but he eventually said that I had one more chance to choose him because he’s always chosen me. This is true because he has put me first. He works a lot while I’m not working this pregnancy and always makes sure I eat and everything. I’m not sure what’s going on with baby shower. I think he said that she can come if I put up boundaries about being nice otherwise she can’t come. I think this will start an unnecessary fight because she hasn’t done anything in many months so it seems insulting. I didn’t say anything though. We fell asleep and cuddled and he apologized the next morning before he left for work. He said he was more mad that I refused to talk. I, personally, was more upset about the marriage license he crumpled up. I still didn’t say anything but ok. He still hates my sister and expects me to tell her to be respectful.

I don’t know what to think really. I sound like a jerk for not letting him have a say for baby shower. It is his kid too. I also don’t want to divide my family by not inviting my sister, but he’s also my family. I know he acted like a jerk for the argument but that doesn’t necessarily means he’s wrong about the guest list and having a say. So would I be TA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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desperate-gay · 7 months

Text

1v1

Alexia Putellas x fem!reader

“Hi, I’m Kelley O'Hara, and this is one v one. Today I am joined by former NWSL player who now plays for Barcelona and the USWNT, Y/n Y/l/n!” Kelley does jazzy hands towards you while you smile and wave at one of the many cameras pointed at the two of you.

Both you and Alexia decided to take a trip to the states so you could see all of your friends and family and so Alexia could take a break from all the press who followed her around. You both share an apartment in New York in case you’re ever in the US and, obviously, a house in Spain. Kelley asked if you’d be okay with doing one of the interviews she conducts with Just Women’s Sports, and of course, you said yes. You’ve missed her since the World Cup ended, so who were you to say no? Alexia decided to stay back and rest for a bit while you went.

You’re now seated in front of multiple cameras with a few crew members and beside Kelley. The room you’re in is nice and calm, and the window behind you allows the natural light to peek its way in.

“Now, getting straight into it, I introduced you as Y/n Y/l/n, but soon you won’t have that name,” Kelley smirks with a teasing eyebrow while you blush and fiddle with the ring on your finger. “Seeing as your lover, aka the goat of soccer, aka la reina, aka Alexia Putellas, proposed to you a couple of months ago.”

You laugh at the multiple names the brunette presents your fiancé with. “First of all, Alexia is going to be mad at you for calling it soccer and her la reina. Second, yes, my name will very soon be legally changed.” Kelley starts applauding with a bright smile on her face.

“I can’t believe two of my teammates are going to be married to basically the two best female soccer players ever! Mrs. and Mrs. Putellas, then Mrs. Kerr and Mrs. Mewis.” You nod excitedly, hoping for your wedding to approach sooner.

“I remember when you came up to me and Kristie, explaining to us how we couldn’t talk to our fiancé’s about our game plans.” The defender laughs and nods her head, remembering how offended both of you looked. “Me and Kristie are still mad at you for not trusting us.”

Kelley puts her hands in fake surrender before going on to explain. "Well, a couple of us were thinking about how you two are with the enemy, and one of us just had to make sure.”

“A couple of you?” You shout in disbelief, making her look at the camera with a worried face. “Nope, cut the cameras. Interview is off!” You joke as you make it look like you’re taking off your mic. The crew chuckles at your guy’s antics and shakes their heads.

—

After several minutes of talking about why you moved to Barca and how you’ve been over there, you are now down to the last discussion.

“As we all know, you’re with Alexia Putellas, as previously mentioned. A lot of fans want to know how the it couple met.” Kelley’s legs are crisscrossed on the chair while she faces you. “I mean, I already know the story, but gotta give the fans what they want.”

Thinking back, it was a cute little story. A couple of Spanish players were in the states for whatever reason, most likely for conferences, and you didn’t have anything to do that day.

“Well, we all know my bestest friend is the one and only Christen Press, and she’s also friends with the amazing Jenni Hermoso. So when word got around they were in town, everyone set plans to go to this nice club and essentially hang out. I specifically remember after Chris and Tobin dragged me with them when we got there and sat in the round booths, both Jenni and Chris forced me and Alexia in the middle to sit next to each other. We got to talking, and eventually, we went on a couple of dates until Jenni and Christen finally admitted they had been trying to set us up.”

Most of what you say is true, but you leave out some parts to keep it PG. After you both got extremely drunk, Alexia dragged you to her hotel room, where you both had an unrestful night. The next morning, she did explain how she’d love to take you on a date, to which you said yes, and now you’re happily engaged. After you two were together for around a year and a half, Barca had an offer for you, which you quickly accepted. Everyone adored how you moved to the club with your fiancé.

Kelley’s head rests on her hand as she stares at you in a complete trance. “Tell me more.”

You laugh at her words and say, “Umm, oh! Now Christen is my maid of honor for our wedding, and Jenni is Alexia’s. Mapi was not happy about being knocked down to just a bridesmaid or groomsman, whatever you want to call it.”

“I’m a little offended that I wasn't offered the position of maid of honor.” The brunette places a hand on her heart in fake hurt, making you roll your eyes.

“You’re literally one of my bridesmaids. I can just put you as a guest if you want."

“No! No, I’m cool with bridesmaids.”

—

Once the interview was done, you and Kelley hung out for a little bit to catch up. After a while, she offered you a ride back to your apartment, which you gladly accepted.

Alexia is sitting on the couch with Nala in her lap when she hears the fiddle of keys in the doorway. The pomeranian jumps up from her lap and over towards the place where you now stand. You crouch down and pet through her fur.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hola, mi amor.” Alexia makes her way over to you and pecks you on the lips.

“I was actually talking to this one.” You gesture to the dog that’s now panting in your arms. The taller girl glares at you and takes Nala from your arms before beginning to walk away. “No no no no no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You say as you press multiple kisses on her lips.

“That’s what I thought.” She mumbles against you and sets the ball of fluff on the ground. Her hands grab onto your hips, pulling you in, and start to wrap around your waist. She nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck while placing feather-like kisses on your skin. “I’ve missed you.”

You wrap your arms back around her, feeling all of your tension go away. “Awe, I’ve missed you too, baby. I know I’ve only been gone for a few hours, but it felt like years.” Your voice is muffled by your face being pressed against her chest.

“I’m glad you decided to sleep with the enemy.” You pull back from the embrace and notice her little smirk.

“You saw the interview, huh?”

The Spanish player nods before hooking her arm behind your legs and lifting you up. “Now, I have been patiently waiting for you to get home so I can get my daily cuddles.”

She struts off into your bedroom and throws you, not so gently, on the bed. Cutting off your complaining, she jumps on top of you, hugging your body and resting her head on your stomach. You shake her head with a smile on your face and begin to run your fingers through her faded pink hair. Her head slowly rises and falls due to your breathing, but it still lulls her right to sleep. Nala jumps beside you and also rests her head on your chest, causing you to smile softly and run your other hand through her fur. There is no other place you’d rather be than with your two favorite girls sleeping on top of you.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso #kelley o'hara #lgbtq

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cutielando · 2 months

Text

marriage headcannon ~ rafe cameron

my masterlist

it would be the best decision of your life

you and rafe had been dating for 3 and a half years before he popped the magical question

he had done it at Midsummers, in front of his entire family and basically the whole of Figure Eight

the ring he had bought you had taken your breath away, fitting on your finger so beautifully like it was made just for you

when you told your parents, they were absolutely over the moon

they had also got married young, so they didn’t judge you for moving too fast

plus, they absolutely adored the living hell out of Rafe, supporting him through his recovery like he was their own son

the conversation about your engagement with his family, though, didn’t go as well as the one with yours

well, at least not entirely

Rose and Wheezie were very excited when they found out, thinking that this would be the thing to finally make Rafe settle down and be the man of his own house

even though Rose and Rafe often didn’t see eye to eye, she couldn’t deny the very positive effect that you had over her stepson

Sarah quite simply just didn’t care, she wanted nothing to do with any of you, especially not her brother

despite the fact that you and Sarah had been best friends when you first started dating Rafe, she began distancing herself from you and the rest of her family when she started hanging out with John B and the Pogues

Ward, however, didn’t want to believe that it was true in the beginning. he wouldn’t accept the fact that his son was starting to make a family of his own, that he wouldn’t be at his beck and call every second of the day anymore

none of their opinions mattered to you or Rafe

you both felt that getting engaged was the right move for the both of you, for starting to build the future that you have always talked about together

you started planning the wedding right away with the help of Rose and Wheezie

after lengthy conversations between Rose and Ward, the latter had finally come to terms with the engagement and agreed to let the two of you host the wedding party at Tannyhill

Rafe didn’t want to intrude on the planning, trusting that you would take care of it and plan the wedding of your dreams and he didn’t want to be in the way

before the day of the wedding, Rose and Wheezie kept you away from Rafe the entire night, Topper and Kelce doing the same with Rafe

it was hell for the both of you, neither liking being away from the other, especially before such an important day

on the morning, though, the nerves were almost paralyzing

Wheezie had helped Rose do your hair and your mother helped with your make-up, transforming you in the most beautiful bride they had ever seen, as per their quotes

once you also put on your wedding dress and finally saw yourself in the mirror, tears had welled up in your eyes, as well as the other women’s in your life

your mother was especially emotional when she saw you ready to get married

once it was finally time for your father to walk you down the aisle, your mind was going into overdrive, dozens of thoughts hitting you all at once

however, once you stepped out into the garden and locked eyes with Rafe, the entire world seemed to fade away

tears had started welling up in Rafe’s eyes as he watched you slowly walk towards him, his smile imprinted on his face

as soon as you reached him and your father gave you away, you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him

the ceremony and the party were a dream, you were with the people you loved most and you were finally married to the love of your life

you spent your honeymoon in the Maldives, the 2 weeks you were there being the most relaxing and fun you’d had in a while

domestic bliss had really set in when you got back

having moved to your own place, living with each other had been everything you had hoped for and more

attending events was a particularly fun thing for the both of you, getting the opportunity to call each other “husband” and “wife”

you would have sex every single day, not being able to resist each other

in the morning, in the afternoon, at night, at the club, in restaurants, it didn’t matter where you guys were. you did it everywhere

after 2-3 years of being married, you would find out that you were expecting your first child, which made you both fall in love with each other a thousands times over again

all in all, being married to Rafe was the best thing to ever happen to you

the love you two shared having conquered every obstacle thrown your way

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lovelyjj · 6 months

Note

Heyy❤️ I love your stories so much! And I came to request something which might be weird and disgusting but hear me out….🤭

JJ and kook reader have been dating for some time and both are crazy in love although she’s kook she’s Pogue at heart and has understood JJ since day one and both create TikToks and have sleepovers and…she even transferred from kook academy to jj, pope and Kiara’s school to be close to him and the pogues and she happens to sit next to JJ and all 4 of them sit on the same desk group and both reader and JJseem horny so he secretly fingers her in class🫣

Dirty

jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings: fingering in public (I think that’s it)

wc: 1.3k

a/n: go easy on me, this is like my third smut i’ve ever written

JJ and you were inseparable. You were always together. It was rare to see one of you without the other. You were also stupidly in love and anyone could see it.

You were in the living room of the château scrolling on your phone. You were on TikTok and you came across a trend. The trend was to ask your partner to kiss you like they would on your wedding day.

You immediately wanted to try that with JJ. You secretly set up your phone camera and pressed record. Then you called for him to come over to where you were.

JJ eventually came into the living room. He eyed the camera suspiciously but didn’t say anything.

“What’s up babe?” JJ questioned.

“I want you to kiss me like you would on our wedding day.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah i’m being serious.” You let out a frustrated huff.

“Baby you think about our wedding?”

“of course I do, don’t you?” you responded.

“I mean yeah but I didn’t think-“

“Just shut up and kiss me maybank.”

“Right well i want to do this right,” JJ stated.

JJ went up to you and grabbed your face. He cradled your face in his hands gently. JJ was grinning into the kiss. JJ kissed the life out of you. He kissed you with so much passion it made you dizzy.

JJs blood was rushing through his veins. The kiss was heated and frantic. Your stomach felt tingly. You were giddy kissing him. Your lips were crushing together. Your hands snaked up into JJ’s hair.

JJ rested his forehead against yours once you stopped kissing. “You know I love you right?”

“Yeah I know, but I love you more,” you stated.

“Not possible.” JJ gave you one last little peck.

Then you went to your phone and hit stop on the recording.

Later in the day when you and JJ were cuddled up on the couch you posted your TikTok. After a while you checked to see how it did. You got a ton of likes and a few comments. One was from Sarah that said, “you guys are too cute!”

You and JJ were spending the night at the château in JJ’s designated room. You were cuddled up together enjoying each other’s company.

“So marriage huh?” JJ put out.

“I can’t wait to have a future with you in it.”

“Me ether.”

“Do you want a big wedding or a small wedding?” JJ questioned.

“Maybe a small wedding on the beach,” you answered.

“The beach sounds nice,” JJ commented.

“Yeah and maybe for flowers there could be blue hydrangeas or purple dahlias.”

“You can have any flowers you want baby,” JJ replied.

“How about a cake?” JJ continued.

“Hmmm maybe chocolate no red velvet no no chocolate for sure.”

JJ chuckled. You lifted your head off of JJ’s chest and turned your head to see him laugh. You loved how his face lit up and his eyes crinkled.

“We have plenty of time to plan the wedding but I have to propose first.”

“Yeah no pressure,” you laughed.

“You know when were married we can have sleepovers every night,” you smiled.

“Of course we will,” JJ exclaimed.

“I love you JJ.”

“I love you more angel,” JJ said as he pressed a kiss to your hair.

“Get some rest.”

You cuddled more into JJ and let sleep overtake you.

————-

A week later you had some exciting news, and you couldn’t wait to tell your boyfriend JJ.

You were running into the château when you were met with a hard chest.

“Woah there girly,” JJ warned.

You were jumping up and down with excitement. “I have some news.”

“Well spit it out,” JJ ordered.

“Ok ok are you ready for this? I’m transferring from the kook academy to your school, can you believe it?”

“Wait are you for real?” JJ questioned.

“Yes! I hope your not sick of me because I’m gonna be at school with you all day long,” you grinned as you continued to bounce up and down.

“I could never be sick of you! I’m so happy.”

“When do you start?” JJ asked.

“Monday,” you answered.

————-

School came around quickly and you were excited to have JJ with you at school.

It was Monday and you went to the office to get your schedule.

JJ quickly took your schedule and compared it to his.

“I can’t believe it we have four classes together.” JJ announced.

“Really? Yay,” you squealed.

The school day was everything you wanted and more. You really loved being in the same school as JJ.

You were both in your fourth period and were surprised when you got seated at a table with your friends.

You were in Mr. Sunn’s history class. JJ was seated next to you and Pope and Kiara were in front of you their tables pressed together and your table on the side of theirs making a table group.

Mr. Sunn was rambling on and on and you were not paying attention at all. Your cheek was pressed against your hand and you were looking at JJ. He was gorgeous.

You began looking at his hands adorned in rings. Your mind started to go somewhere else. You thought about his hands wrapping around your throat. Then you thought about his fingers inside you and you were already flushing.

JJ started to look over at you and he was confused to see you all flustered. He looked down and saw your legs squeezing together and then he figured out you were feeling needy.

JJ looked at your chest and saw your cleavage peaking out from your shirt and all the blood rushed to his dick. JJ was feeling horny all of a sudden.

JJ moved his hand to your upper thigh and looked into your eyes.

“Can you be a good girl and be quiet for me?” he whispered.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed.

JJ reached under your shorts and moved you panties aside. He traced a finger through your folds and you bit your lip to suppress your moan at the sensation.

“God you’re dripping. Dirty girl,” JJ smirked.

JJ placed a kiss on your shoulder and then proceeded to slide his finger into your hole. Your legs clamped together around his hand when his digit entered you.

JJ was enjoying himself watching you squirm.

JJ started to add another finger when you let out a little yelp.

Pope and Kiara turned towards you and gave you a confused look. They of course were oblivious to what was happening under the table.

JJ moved his thumb to circle your clit. You jerked forward at the contact, biting your lip so hard you could taste blood. Your hands were gripping the table so hard your knuckles were turning white.

JJ thrusted his fingers in and out setting a fast pace. JJ curled his fingers inside you making your eyes roll back as he reached your g spot.

“Gonna cum for me princess?” JJ whispered huskily.

“Yes J,” you breathed.

Your body felt like it ignited with fire. You were hot and your stomach was tingly. You felt that familiar tightening in your stomach and you knew you were about to coat JJ’s hand in your release.

“Oh god,” you mouthed. You clamped down on his fingers and your orgasm jolted through you. JJ’s thumb was pushing on your clit and his fingers worked in and out of you as you came.

JJ took his fingers and popped them in his mouth. You were embarrassed and covered your face as JJ licked up your juices.

When the class was over you were practically jumping out of your seat. You were antsy and wanted to get out.

JJ caught up to you as you fast walked out of class.

“When we get home, I’m gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk,” JJ spoke in your ear. You couldn’t wait for the school day to be over.

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blainesebastian · 4 months

Text

something real

words: 13,045 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: SFW except for one explicit scene summary: i took inspo from a request about fake!dating for a wedding and from another film with a similar premise. what else do you do when your ex is getting married? hire a fake date notes: feel free to visit my austin masterlist warnings: none, but check the rating. tag list: @austinbutlermischief, @killerqueenfan, @stylespresleyhearted,

“You’re losing it.”

A short laugh escapes your lips because god, maybe you are. This all started out easily enough—you needed a date for your ex’s wedding. Right, the fact that you were even invited kind of drives you crazy. It’s not like you didn’t have a good relationship with Todd, you did? But it also doesn’t change the fact how things ended—he ‘meant’ to break things off with you but started seeing someone at the same time. Claire. The girl he’s marrying. But you’re not about to go through life with grudges and anger when you can just let things go.

Which is why you’ve entertained this wedding invitation in the first place?

But to go alone? That’s a fate worse than death.

Which, ironically, is exactly what your friend, Jill, is telling you you’re going to be with this idea you’ve come up with.

“It’s all perfectly safe.” You mutter, sliding onto a bar stool and turning to look at her. You’re wearing a light blue dress, pair of booties, and jean jacket. Just casual enough but also hinting you’ve got a figure to show off if you really wanted to.

She scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what everyone says before they end up on 60 Minutes.”

You can’t help but smile, tugging the file out of your course before setting it on the bar top. “Do you want me to explain it again?”

Jill puts her hands on her hips—as if that will somehow make her comfortable with all of this, but she’s not protesting either. So you open up the file and—

“So my neighbor’s used this service before to go to her high school reunion, you know, so she didn’t end up there alone. She went onto their online platform, filled out a survey and bam, she was matched with someone to go.”

Jill narrows her eyes, “For twenty thousand dollars.”

“Well it’s not charity,” You throw back, “I’ve done the research, there’s a ton of reviews—all positive. It’s not like it’s about sex or anything, it’s just…companionship for one event.”

Jill looks at the file, crinkling her nose, “There’s so many other ways you could have done this—Rick, the guy in 6B? He’s always thought you were cute.”

You laugh a little, “If I go out with Rick, there is a good chance I’ll end up missing some limbs—dude is creepy, Jill.”

Her friend rolls her eyes but it’s fond, opening up the file and pointing to a blank spot where this guy’s photo should be, “Okay, but you don’t even get to know what he looks like?”

“I think it was my Wi-Fi,” You state honestly, “Some of the images weren’t loading. But that’s why you’re here,” You grin, “Safety measures. So—” You gently push on one of her hips, “Go find a table, order a drink while I wait for Austin.”

“That’s the gigolo’s name?”

“Wedding date,” You correct, shooing her away until she heads to a table.

Taking a breath, you look at the reflective surface of the bar mirror in front of you, mentally praying that this somehow not a huge mistake and order a drink.

Chewing on the drunken cherry in your Manhattan, you glance down the bar as you see someone handsome talking to a small group of women. You wonder if that’s Austin, looking for you—he’s about ten minutes late. Your stomach clenches anxiously, knowing that maybe Jill was right and this is utterly ridiculous. But…you got invited to the wedding late (either it was a last-minute thought or it got lost in the mail) but there was no way you could organically find someone to ask.

Sure, you could have brought Jill or some other friend but…deep down? You know this is about making Todd feel utterly stupid for cheating on you, for leaving you for someone else. You don’t want him back, of course, but that feeling of satisfaction? That look on his face when he sees you with someone else? You want it.

You can’t not go and you can’t find someone random in your life already to go with…so when your neighbor mentioned this quick fix? How could you not look into it? You’ve got a ton of money saved from over the years, not to mention a small investment your grandfather put in your name. What’s the harm in looking into this, right?

“Y/N?”

Turning on the bar stool, you nearly swallow your own tongue as you’re met face to face with who you assume is Austin. And joke’s on you because he’s ten times more beautiful than the other guy at the bar you saw talking to those women. He’s tall, lean, in a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. Easily handsome, like…James Dean or Elvis Presley. Doesn’t have to try very hard.

And suddenly something hysterical crawls up your throat as he takes a seat next to you, introduces himself as Austin, and apologizes for being late because of traffic because—

“I’m sorry—” You interrupt, shaking your head, “This uh, this isn’t going to work.”

His eyebrows draw together in confusion, his mouth opening and closing, “Excuse me?”

“You’re,” You laugh lightly, cheeks heating up. There’s this sickly sensation gripping your stomach, telling you to run, “No one is going to believe that we’re dating.”

And maybe that’s something oddly pathetic you shouldn’t have uttered outloud because what’s even worse, Austin seems to grip what you’re saying and his features soften. You do not want pity or sympathy, you’re just…stating a fact.

Austin takes in a soft breath and looks towards the bartender, ordering himself a beer, confusing you a little because you expected him to just…take off. There’s no money involved at this point, it’s a clean break. This meeting is just to discuss details.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself,” He states gently, eyes sweeping over your form. And god, he’s good, isn’t he? You suppose this is his job, making women feel good. Confident. Even though it’s all a lie.

Letting out a breath as his drink is set down on the bar, you figure there’s no harm in…talking with him, right? He came all this way; you can at least wait until he finishes his beer to turn him down. You’ll just go to this damn wedding alone—it’s really not that big of a deal, right?

Austin takes off his leather jacket, hanging it up on a hook underneath the bar and he smells amazing—some sort of cologne that’s fresh and almost citrusy. You run a hand through your hair and order another Manhattan.

“So your request said a wedding?”

“My ex,” You clarify, “And I don’t want him back, or anything, I just want him to feel like an idiot.”

Austin smiles a little, humming— “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard. I’m assumin’ he already is one.”

A small laugh stutters forward in your chest because yes, he is. Your shoulders start to relax just a little because maybe Austin gets it. By not going or going alone you…you don’t want Todd to think that he’s somehow gotten one over you, that you’re lonely or broken ever since you’ve separated.

“Have you…done weddings before?”

He shifts a little on the barstool so that he’s facing you a little easier, “I’ve done weddings the most,” He admits, “Two high school reunions, one funeral.”

You raise your eyebrows, setting your drink down on the bar. “A funeral?”

Austin shrugs lightly, “Some women just want a hand to hold on their hardest day, a shoulder to cry on. Someone to talk to.” He licks his lips, taking a sip of his beer, “I’m not one to judge.”

You straighten your shoulders and…you suppose you’re really not in a position to do that either, given you’re here to hire Austin so you feel less alone and pathetic at a wedding. You take a long look at him for a moment, —curious. He doesn’t want to be doing anything else?

“Can I ask—why are you doing this?” Your fingers trace shapes into the condensation on your glass. “This whole fake-date program?”

Austin clears his throat, “You can ask me whatever you want,” He starts and that within itself seems like a dangerous proposition. “I work at this café near here but uh, it doesn’t exactly bring a lot of money in. I want to be an actor, like…a serious one, the money I get from these dates I’m savin’ up to go to L.A.”

And he essentially gets to pretend to be someone he’s not. Like an endless list of auditions.

There are other things you want to ask, other questions stuck in your throat about doing weddings. Why weddings? The whole concept seems like a bad idea—a high school reunion, a holiday party, even a funeral makes more sense, doesn’t it?

Those aren’t emotionally connected events, there’s no…opportunities to fall into something deeper than what the contract of attachment allows. But weddings? It’s about love and finding your person and…going to one with someone else feels like such a slippery slope.

Or maybe it doesn’t because Austin is a professional.

“So if I…if we do this, what does it entail, exactly?” You take another sip of your drink, as if you need the liquid courage for his response.

A small smile graces his handsome face again, “Don’t overthink it. It’s whatever you want, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You feel like there’s this heat uncoiling in your belly even though he’s not suggesting anything. Somehow, it’s in the ocean blue of his eyes—a depth there. You clear your throat, “You mean uh—if I require a dance partner? Because I love to dance at weddings…usually badly.”

Austin laughs warmly but shakes his head. “I meant if I was goin’ as your date or a boyfriend.”

And oh, of course, you hadn’t even thought about it but of course Austin would want a more specific role to sink his teeth into and your mind spins about what you want to do. It’s just one night, one silly wedding, there’s no long con here. It’s not like Todd will even care who you show up with, right? You’re the one who wants to feel less lonely—

And yet—

“You can think about it, if you need to—”

“Boyfriend.” You say, cutting him off. Heat returns to your cheeks…mise well go big or go home, right? If you’re going to do this? This has got to be a bad idea, right?

“Okay,” Austin smiles, “Good.”

So it’s settled that he’ll meet you at your place beforehand, you’ll iron out details of your relationship in case anyone asks and then you’ll go to the wedding together.

Austin stands and he tosses some cash on the bar counter (enough to cover your drink as well) and he hovers for a moment, tugging on his leather jacket. “My number’s in the file, in case you need it.”

Then there’s a moment where Austin watches you, fixing the lapels of his jacket. His one hand then rests on the bar, taking a step closer to you, and the way that you’re seated, your legs open just slightly to accommodate his body in your space.

“Don’t hit me, alright?” He smiles a little, leaning down, and honestly you’re the one that feels like you’re getting sucker punched in the stomach. Air right out of your lungs. “It was nice meeting you.”

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as your eyes flutter to his lips, “Yeah, you too.”

There’s more than enough time for you to pull away, but you don’t, so he kisses you.

It’s nothing obscene, but slow and gentle. Warm. Just enough to make your heart pound against your ribcage, electricity singing in your veins. You suppose it’s something you should get used to if Austin is going to pass as your boyfriend.

You raise your eyebrows a little as he pulls away, hot under the collar of your jean jacket.

“Figure we’d just get that out of the way so you could concentrate.” He teases and god, your mind is spinning. You kinda hate that he’s made you feel like this so easily, like somehow it’s second nature.

“What, that doesn’t cost extra?” You manage to throw out there, finding your voice.

Austin grins, another soft laugh rumbling in his chest. “I’ll see you soon.”

You let out a slow breath, running a hand over your hair as you watch him walk out of the bar before downing the rest of your drink.

“So that’s your date, huh?” Jill asks as she comes up behind you—honestly her voice kinda sounds like cotton in your ears. “Todd is gonna swallow his own tongue.”

And you can’t help but grin.

You meet one more time before the wedding, just…something to solidify that you do, in fact, know what you’re doing. But also to get a bit more comfortable around Austin and the fact that he’s going to be your boyfriend. You let out a slow breath, aggravated by how crazy that sounds. Maybe Jill’s right, maybe this is a bad idea (despite how handsome and charming Austin is).

He’s picked you up to go somewhere but won’t tell you where. And when the engine turns off, you undo your seatbelt and look out the windshield, “A custard house?”

“Was hopin’ you could go for somethin’ sweet,” Austin smiles a little, “They make these waffle custard sandwiches that’ll change your life.”

You hum lightly and start to get out of the car, a little confused because…well, you’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. “We’re here for ice cream sandwiches?”

Austin scrunches his nose in mock offense at her flippant description, “No, we’re here for waffle custard. You need to work on listenin’, come on.” He gets out of the car too and locks the doors.

You know you’re about to paying Austin a decent amount of money to be your stand-in date, your fake boyfriend, dragging him to this wedding for god knows what reasons make sense in your head but…you suppose you didn’t count on him being like this. A tiny bit thoughtful, sweet, funny even.

Or maybe he’s already a decent actor.

You follow him to the counter, your eyes trailing over at least thirty different custard flavors—not only that, but there’s twice as many toppings. How are you supposed to choose?

“You know what you want already?” You ask as Austin rolls up the sleeves of his jean jacket a little.

“I always know what I want.” He leans on the counter, turning towards the woman at the register to order French vanilla—but stops when you make a noise. He looks at you over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Somethin’ you wanna share?”

You purse your lips and rocks back onto your heels, shaking your head, “No I just…vanilla, really? You don’t seem like the type.” She teases.

Austin smirks, straightening his back. “Oh, huh.” He motions to the large display menu. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby. What should I order?”

You let the pet name slide (and it does, like heated molasses right down in your veins), which is probably a dangerous slippery slope, but you’re too busy trying to take in a custard selection at the moment to care. You chew on your lower lip, slipping through the flavors written in chalk on the board and decides to go with your favorite pairing—

“He’ll have chocolate and strawberry custard in that waffle sandwich thing with…” You hum, “Caramel sauce and chocolate sprinkles.” You smile, clearly happy with your selection before ordering the same for yourself…except you also get chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

Because why the hell not?

“You’re gonna have that all over you before the night is over.” Austin motions to the dripping mess in your hands, carefully shelled between fresh waffles wrapped up in foil.

You slide yourself onto the hood of Austin’s car, almost sliding back down but managing to lean against the windshield before losing your custard sandwich.

“Challenge accepted.”

Austin smiles a little, sitting down next to you, looking far too handsome sprawled out on his car.

You realize that everything between you both is so dangerous, wrapped in gentle dynamite, the softest breath or touch capable of explosion. But it’s also tantalizing in a way that excites you—Austin is different, gentle but rough with the walls he keeps up.

Everything about this is a lie –circles in your head, over and over, trying to remind you not to take anything too seriously. And yet? You bury it deep with a bite of your custard sandwich. You moan softly and lick chocolate off your lips because Jesus, this is incredible.

Austin smirks, licking custard between the waffle before he takes a bite of his own. “Told you it was worth the stop.”

“I’m not going to admit you somehow know all just because you have decent taste in custard.” You smile and takes another bite of your waffle sandwich, leaning back to watch cars drive by.

“Give it time.” Austin glances over and you can feel his gaze, always like a magnet tracing the curves of your body. You want to tell him that you enjoy when he looks at you like that, to be felt and seen all at the same time, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

You wonder if he looks at every woman who’s ever paid him like that.

You’re not sure you want to know.

You turn and meet his gaze, holding it for a moment before a small smile graces your lips. “Do you really work at a café?”

He nods, leaning further up against the windshield. “It’s called Mug Half Full; been there about three years.” He licks his lips, pulling a napkin from his pants pocket and wiping his chin where he feels caramel sticking. “What do you do? You didn’t mention it in your email.”

You swallow down a bought of self-loathing at the question and decide to take another bite of your sandwich; sweet hiding sour. “I uh, I’m kinda in-between jobs at the moment.” You know Austin has to be able to see through that terrible excuse of an answer. “I’m currently getting an online degree in education.”

Austin finishes his custard waffle, which is admirable because yours is two seconds away from becoming soup in your hands. You lick at the sides as he crumples up a napkin and puts his trash in a can nearby so it’s not in either of your way.

“What do you want to do?”

The question shouldn’t offend you as much as it does, the want and need to defend yourself raising your hackles a bit. You bite down on reacting too sorely; he’s just asking a question—and you realize you haven’t given him a reason not to ask something like that. Your bland response is what prompts the statement.

You suppose you’re just…too used to people asking that, especially since society makes you feel like you somehow got a late start in figuring things out. In reality, it’s never too early or too late to be whoever you want. You’re just…getting to that.

You clear your throat, setting your custard sandwich down on your lap a moment, the foil protecting your clothes. “I have no idea,” You admit with a soft laugh, “My relationship with my ex kinda took all my energy—supporting whatever he needed, you know? Now I’m just starting to figure myself out.” And you’re proud of that progress, even though it feels like pushing a boulder up a hill sometimes. “I might teach maybe, one day.”

He holds your gaze for a moment, slight amusement dancing in the corners of his eyes. He smiles gently, looking down at your hands before he picks up your sandwich and licks whipped cream off the corner. Ridiculously obscene and unnecessary but you let him do it anyways.

You have apparently become accustomed to sharing things—you’ve noticed that he continues the ruse of soft touches and intimate gestures when no one’s watching. You think it’s to help solidify the fact that you’re supposed to be dating, supposed to be into one another. Which isn’t very hard when he does things like that with his tongue.

Austin tosses your trash like he did with his own before turning to look at you, handing you a napkin to wipe your hands off. “I could tell you wanted more. And you know, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Then why does it feel so guilty for you to admit— “Sometimes it feels selfish, to want things for myself.” You swallow, letting it sink into the air. You’ve never told anyone that before, not even your best friend or your parents.

“Sounds like someone really selfish made you feel that way.” He says gently and it’s like…wool has been taken off your eyes. Something you maybe knew but needed to hear.

It’s not what you expect him to say, not in the slightest, but it warms you from the inside out either way. You nod because yes, you’ve never thought about it like that but yes, that’s it exactly. Realizing that taking care of yourself is one of the best things you can do—knowing yourself and that you deserve to want, that it’s normal, even.

Austin hums softly, moving to slip off the car. You swing your legs around and when he offers you his hand, you take it to slide off as well.

How easy it would be to lean up and kiss him, how he’d probably taste like hints of chocolate and strawberry. You wait for him to let you go, for his hand to stop holding yours. But he doesn’t.

You lick your own lips, your eyes looking to his lower one, how it pouts out gently when he looks at you—and you decide to stop waiting for things you want. If you’re going to pay for his company, you might as well enjoy it.

You press your lips into his own, capturing something sweet, lips moving together like you both were always made to kiss. Austin’s one hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your hair back around your ear before eventually pulling back. You’re breathing a little shakily, your noses brushing, Austin taking his time to trace your cheekbone with his lips before he opens up the car door for you.

“You’re not charging me extra for the gentleman treatment, are you?” Or for the kisses I keep stealing?

Austin smiles, a soft laugh leaving his throat as he waits for you to put your seatbelt on. “Not yet.” And closes the door with a wink.

You think about canceling six times between when you wake up on the day of the wedding to the moment you slide your dress over your head. You’ve told yourself that this was and continues to be a terrible idea and if you hadn’t paid him half up front through a cash app, you’d have the nerve to tell him never mind. Kisses and all, you really feel like you’re starting to lose your damn mind.

Though you know even if you told Austin to forget the whole thing, you still have to go to this wedding. (You could probably skip it no big deal, but the last thing you want is Todd to assume you’re bothered either). Canceling now would definitely mean going alone and you can’t stomach it, not when you feel like all of your insides are already in knots.

You smooth your hands down the front of your dress as you hear the doorbell, taking the steps downstairs carefully in your gold heels. You’ve settled for a navy-blue number that shows just enough cleavage and is ruffled at your middle, hugging curves and kissing your skin beautifully. You feel confident and comfortable, which is important for a long night.

You sigh, glancing at your front door for a moment before turning the knob and opening up to see Austin. He’s standing in a suit, beautifully polished, hair perfectly coifed on his head. A navy button-down underneath a gray suit jacket, tie to match with a red spidery design that reminds you of tree branches in the winter.

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows because, “Why are you shakin’ your head?” He asks as he steps over the threshold and you close the door.

“I just naturally assumed you were going to show up in black. Black in your profile picture that finally loaded, black at the bar… I thought that was the only shade you owned.”

He runs a hand lightly over his chest. “Grays in the same shade family.” He’s joking but you’re not laughing and finally he just throws his hands up a little, “What’s the big deal?”

“Because we match.”

Austin looks down at himself and pauses, doesn’t get it, gives you a look that makes you feel a little crazy. “That a bad thing?”

“It’s—” No, it’s not exactly a terrible idea but it somehow digs under your skin because you want today to be perfect and Austin is supposed to be your boyfriend and you can’t be that couple that goes all matchy-matchy to events, right?

What are the odds that he shows up in something that is the exact same color as your damn dress?

“It’s too perfect, it’s not believable.” You say and he raises his eyebrows because that does not make one lick of sense. He takes a step towards you and you mirror one back, shaking your head.

Austin lets out a slow breath because you’re nitpicking and it annoys him, a flare of impatience decorating his handsome face. “Well I don’t exactly got another suit in my back pocket and we’re already late.”

You narrows your eyes, “Just…follow me. I’ll change.”

You’re up the stairs and in your bedroom before you realize what you’ve said, Austin slipping in behind you and looking around the room, drinking you in with permission you’ve accidently given him. You turn suddenly and slip off your heels, pressing one hand to his chest to stop him.

“Don’t move.”

He smiles a little and nods his head, sticking his hands in his pockets as he watches you slide into your walk-in closet to change. You sigh softly and run a hand over your forehead before you take a moment to unzip your dress and glance at your options.

“A lot of beige.”

You roll your eyes and pull out a black dress, quickly pulling it on and kicking your navy blue one to the side before stepping out of your closet. You don’t bother to zip it up until you make sure it’s the right one.

Austin has dutifully not moved from the spot on the carpet where you’ve left him and he scrunches his nose at your dress, “You goin’ to a wake?”

“What’s wrong with beige?” You glance around your bedroom; at the little accents you’ve added that have color to them. Some shades of coffee colored brown and touches of teal here and there. It’s minimalist but tasteful.

“It’s just not what I pictured.”

“You pictured my bedroom?” You ask, but the corners of your mouth pull slightly as you put your hands on your hips.

Austin tilts his head at you, eyes traveling over your body in an unashamed way. “Maybe.” He pauses for a moment to let that sink into your pores. “You don’t seem like a beige. Also, no to that dress. I can maybe get you not wantin’ to match completely but that doesn’t line up with what I got on at all.”

You nod and turn to go back into your closet, pulling the dress off and standing far too long in your underwear trying to decide on a color range. You could go gold…but that feels too flashy, gray is out of the question and so is another navy dress so…

You finger red fabric for a moment that matches the scarlet on Austin’s tie and pull it off the hanger.

“I’m not actually that fond of beige,” You admit over your shoulder as you pull the dress up—it’s a fit and flare that kind of reminds you of the sixties. Something that hugs your waist with a high-neck tanked top and flares out like a wide flame at the bottom. It hits just below your knees and your gold heels will still go nicely with it.

“But the house kinda came this way and…I never took the time to fix it.” You walk out of the closet, pulling your hair free from underneath. “Todd didn’t like bold colors anyways.”

Austin’s eyes descend on you like a cold rush of water, a wave crashing down onto your shores. He stares for what feels like a long time, his hands coming out of his pockets like he wants to touch but can’t—too far away. You smile softly as his gaze sticks, he’s captivated by the dress, and you notice he has to shake his head as you approach to be able to speak to you.

“So I’m guessin’ he’s not gonna like this.” He reaches to touch your waist, fingers pressing warmly into the fabric.

You chew on the inside of your cheek a moment, looking up at him. “Do you like it?”

He smirks gently, pulling on your elbow to turn you around. He doesn’t reply but you feel suddenly naked under his gaze as your bare back is exposed to him. He takes his time finding the zipper and slowly draws it up into place, fixing the little hook at the top. His hands rest against your shoulders and guide down, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

“Get your shoes. We’re already late.”

You let out a long sigh that somehow turns into a pout, making him smile, “We could stay here, you could give more wisecracks about my bedroom decorum.”

Austin smirks and grabs your purse from where it’s seated on the bed as you slip your heels back on. “As amazing as that sounds, that’s not what you’re payin’ me for.”

And the words sound sour, swallowing them down, nodding your head as you leave the bedroom with him.

The wedding itself isn’t actually terrible—it’s beautiful in a way that would make any woman envious. Lots of flowers and gold designs and as you watch the entire ceremony take place, you have moments where you wonder why you’re here. Was it really that important for you to show up? And not only that, but pay a date to be here? You keep going back and forth, like a serious game of tug-of-war.

Why did it matter if you showed up alone? Or with Jill?

Austin helps you with your coat, his hand on your lower back as you walk out of the church and towards the reception hall which is being held in this beautiful botanical garden that has rooms you can rent for things like this.

People begin to pile into the building, pausing at the coat check before heading into the reception all, and it’s right there that you suddenly feel like bolting. Truth is? Todd was your boyfriend for years before your breakup (a breakup that might have never happened if you hadn’t realized he was cheating, because clearly he hadn’t taken the initiative until it was too late). And it’s probably so stupid that you remained friends with him, that you were invited to this wedding, that you for some reason care about what he thinks—even now.

But you do.

You should have just moved on and thrown the wedding invitation in the trash but…feelings don’t always come in black and white. You constantly live in a shade of gray.

And you’re worried someone is going to see right through you tonight.

Austin squeezes your hand, getting your attention as you remain grounded by the coat check. He’s patient, waiting until your gaze meets his own. “You’re shakin’.” His other hand covers the one he’s already holding.

You nod your head and offer a smile you don’t feel. “I thought this would be easy. Having you here as a distraction, smiling at all the right times and drinking too much wine in a nice dress,” You shrug your one shoulder, “It doesn’t change how I feel.”

Despite the small amount of privacy the coat check wall provides, you can feel eyes on you two from different parts of the room; people slipping past to get a glass of champagne from the cash bar, fluttering in-between hors d'oeuvres tables and congratulating the couple. Guests who know who you are, who are whispering about you. You can hear Todd a few feet away; big laughs and too loud discussions that tell you he’s a little drunk but genuinely happy.

Or maybe this is all in your head.

“Look, I think you were gonna feel this way no matter if you came alone or with someone.” He runs his thumb over your knuckles. “But you can still do all the other things you mentioned,” Austin leans in, brushes his lips over your cheekbone as he talks, “Drink too much wine in a beautiful dress and smilin’ definitely doesn’t hurt.”

He pulls back and you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to lean up and kiss him again. To feel his arms wrap around you and pull you close, back outside, to his car, away from this place where you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.

Austin grasps your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, waiting until your eyes meets his own again. He leans forward to brush your lips together, gently, more to distract you than anything else because it’s not a kiss.

“Women hire me because they want to feel wanted and if that’s what you need to hear, then fine, I do want you, Y/N.” You let out a breath that sounds too shaky for your own good, your knees slightly buckling. All the other gazes you once felt on you fade away, until it’s only you and Austin in an empty botanical garden.

“But hearin’ that doesn’t matter until you want things for yourself. You want someone to believe in you? You want to feel confident? Wanted?” His hand falls to your waist, “Good enough?”

You swallow thickly, his words reaching something that’s still raw inside of you, that still hurts to think about. You want to pull away, nearly do, but instead surrender to his weight against you. It’s not his fault that he does a better job of reading you than you do looking in a mirror.

“Then it has to come from you first.”

You shake your head as he pulls away, his hand very simply returning to yours as you both move towards the cash bar. “I know you think you know me from a few meetings and a detailed email request. But you don’t.” Your words at least sound stronger than you feel.

Austin looks at you over his shoulder and smiles but says nothing in return.

Maybe the problem is, he does know you, even from the simplest interactions. Maybe you’re just not used to being seen. Todd never saw you, even when you gave him so many chances to try. You suppose at that point you need to want to try.

You’re seated at a table that has mostly co-workers and friends and you attempt not to cringe when someone asks you how you know the bride and groom. Austin swoops in and responds that they’re friends, his arm stretched out over the back of your chair. You’re grateful because the words we dated are sitting in your throat like a lump, difficult to swallow over.

The night spins forward, you’re able to avoid the bride and groom for the duration of it, just enjoying food and a little bit too much wine and hanging out with Austin. There are long conversations where you get to know one another, fill one another in about things that are real, beyond the layers of this fake-date situation.

It’s nice, seeing him in that light, getting to know him as if you’d bumped into him at a bar and enjoyed his company.

You almost wish that was the case, instead.

His arm squeezes around your waist as you both dance on the dance floor, his jacket on the back of his chair, dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. You’re definitely a little tipsy, the room is rose-colored, but all in all? It feels like a crisis has been avoided, you’re actually having a good time.

“Can I get you another glass of wine?” Austin asks, brushing his lips over your forehead, “Maybe some cookies from the dessert table?”

You grin, “You know me so well.” And it’s not a line, somehow, you’ve been craving cookies for the past half hour.

Austin smiles, nods, squeezes your waist and leaves you to do just that. You somehow ache with missing the heat of his body once he’s gone—and that’s how you know you’re slightly in over your head. You have to keep reminding yourself that none of this is real—the way Austin talks to you or looks at you, the way his hands travel over your body, the slight brush of his lips against your own.

It's all a lie.

A lie that you paid for.

Running a hand over your forehead, you turn and nearly bump into someone, blinking as you look up and—

“Todd.”

Your ex smiles, “Hey—I’m so glad you came, I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Neither was I, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” Chewing on your lower lip, you’re struck with being unsure of what to say, scanning the crowd for Austin before clearing your throat, “Uhm, everything has been beautiful.”

Todd smiles, nodding, taking a look around for his bride. “Thank you. Are you uh, here with Jill?”

You open and close your mouth like a goldfish until you feel that familiar arm slide around you. “No this is Austin,” You take the glass of wine and have a hearty sip and it instantly makes your head spin.

Todd clears his throat and even though he’s smiling, it’s clear he’s giving Austin a once-over. He did not expect you to be here with someone. “I didn’t know you were bringing a friend that wasn’t Jill.” He kinda laughs, like maybe it’s a joke that you don’t have many other close friends other than her.

But Austin is quick to smile, “Actually, I’m her boyfriend.”

And there it is, the look on Todd’s face that you were after this whole time. It’s quick, gone almost as soon as it appears, but lingers in his eyes. Regret, maybe even jealousy. Even though his wife appears by his side and introductions are exchanged.

Luckily the conversation doesn’t last very long, the bride and groom are swept towards other people, more dancing. Which is good because you’re pretty sure you noticed that the bride couldn’t keep her eyes off of Austin.

What a couple her and Todd make.

Downing the rest of the wine, you set it on the table, letting out a slow breath. Austin keeps his hands firm on your hips and you can’t quite meet his eyes. You’re not quite sure how…this wasn’t what you expected, nor wanted.

Just feels like a big mistake.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks quietly, seeming to read your mind.

You nod and he keeps his arm around you until you make it outside and reach his car.

That last glass of wine did you zero favors and by the time you make it to your front door, you’re dropping your keys instead of sliding them into the lock. Austin smiles a little, picking them up and unlocking everything, pushing the door open. You’ve got a firm hand on his shirt because you’re swaying slightly, almost a little afraid of what might happen if you let go.

What if all of this is one weird dream?

“Where are we going?” You ask as he comes inside, closing the door behind him.

“Water n’bed.” Austin replies as he guides you into the living room.

You scrunch your nose and look to the ceiling, definitely knocking yourself off balance as the room spins. Austin lets out a short grunt as he catches you, steadying you against his chest.

“In that order? That’s so boring.”

He chuckles slightly, guiding you both until he has you in front of the couch, encouraging you to sit. “You got somethin’ else you’d rather do?”

You can’t help but grin at the question, poking at his chest. “I think you know what I’d rather like to do.” It’s like hot lava pouring from your lips, you can’t seem to stop it even though you know you’ll have burns later.

Austin hums under his breath but doesn’t respond, concentrates instead on keeping you on the couch once you’re seated.

“Stay there,” He says when you try to get up, holding onto your shoulders and pressing you gently down. “You good or you gonna slip off?” There’s an amused smile pulling handsomely at his lips as he tilts his head down to look at you, slipping his thumb and forefinger along your chin.

“Good, I’m so good.” You nod, determined to give him responses that make sense. You just wish the room would stop spinning.

Only when he feels like you mean it does he pull away from you. You closes your eyes as your fingers grip the cushion, trying to hold yourself in place. None of this really helps and instead you just end up feeling nauseas, forcing your eyes to open so you can see Austin.

He’s taken his jacket off, tie gone and shirt unbuttoned a bit, and seeing his chest and forearms makes heat unwantedly pool between your legs and you lick your lips, trying to focus on what he has in his hands.

“He…he honestly didn’t think I’d be there with anyone.”

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows and he pauses, “What?”

You swallow, not sure if your trail of thought makes sense. “Todd. Jerk.” You give as an explanation.

Something passes over Austin’s face but it’s gone as soon as it appears and he crouches in front of you, his one hand slipping over your knee a moment, “Do you actually care what he thinks?”

You hold his gaze for a long moment before shaking your head. He hums softly, squeezing, his thumb between your thighs and it’s really too distracting.

“Then fuck him; neither of those two seemed like they should be giving relationship advice.”

You giggle something ridiculous and cover your face with your hand a moment, glad you were able to make sense of all that even though you probably didn’t need to bring it up.

“You got anythin’ like a long t-shirt?” He changes the subject as he makes a motion to go upstairs. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get pants on you.”

You huff out a sound and rub a hand over your face, most likely smearing makeup in the worst way. “That’s alright, I like bein’ pantless.” You reach over and is happy you don’t tumble, using one hand to hold onto his shoulder to get his attention. “Upstairs, first drawer on the right.”

He’s back and forth quickly; makes you wonder how long you’ve actually been sitting there.

Him undressing you is a blur; you note that he does his best to dip his gaze when he can to give you a little privacy. Just enough that you can figure out that your head doesn’t go into one of the arm holes and assists when you starts whining that you can’t get it right. You throw your wedding dress aside and kicks off your heels, letting out a soft huff when Austin disappears into the kitchen.

He comes back with a warm washcloth that smells like lilac soap and he waits until your gaze focuses on him before he asks whether you can do this yourself.

You nod a little absently, taking the washcloth from him and wiping your makeup off before handing it back to him. You pull as many bobbypins as you can find from your hair and toss them onto the coffee table, pulling your strands back up into a bun before collapsing face first into the couch.

You barely feel the couch dip as you smush your face into a pillow, blankets being draped over your shoulders.

When you wake up, you don’t automatically remember where you are.

You lift your head and groan softly, pinching your eyes with your thumb and forefinger trying to get the pounding to stop. There’s a soft blue light casting shadows on the walls of the living room and oh, that’s right, you’re home. Austin brought you home last night.

You swallow and nearly sit up too fast, leaning up on your elbows because oh, oh fuck, now you remember. A wave of nausea crashes down on you for moving and you flutter your eyes closed briefly and hope that helps. When you feels confident enough to fix your gaze on something other than the inside of your eyelids, you turn to look at Austin who’s sitting up in one of the lounge chairs nearby against a few pillows, watching TV.

He didn’t leave. He stayed with you the entire night.

The sound from the TV isn’t loud enough to be heard but you can tell he does this often, eyes on the screen, just absorbing the images that flicker to life. His head dips to look over at you when you move; he looks tired. You really hope he didn’t sit up to just…keep an eye on you, making sure you slept alright.

You clear your throat, the sound scratchy and dry regardless of your trying, “Am I dead?”

Austin smirks a little and stands to come and sit by your legs, handing you a glass of water that’s on the coffee table. “Here. You passed out before I could get you to drink any.”

You sigh softly and close your eyes, moving to sit up further and is glad to see the room isn’t spinning anymore. “Lovely.” You drink deeply after a few tentative sips to make sure you can keep it down.

“You stayed.”

“I did.” Austin’s quiet for a few moments, playing with the corners of one of the blankets. Clearly he’s not going to elaborate. “You got a headache?”

You hum an affirmative response but it’s nothing water and Advil can’t cure. You lean your head back against the headboard, closing your eyes again for a few moments to avoid the blue light spilling into the room from the TV. You give yourself some time to sip your water before you open them again, setting the glass down on the table. There’s cookies there too, from last night. Austin kept them.

You sense embarrassment licking at your nerve endings, feeling a little ridiculous for your behavior. You should really know better than to let yourself go like that, especially since it doesn’t take too many glasses of wine in a row for it to happen.

“Sober?” He asks and there’s a tilt to his voice that you don’t like, far too amused.

You groan and turn your head to look at him, trying to muster up a glare that doesn’t stick. “Unfortunately.” You rake your fingers through your hair, trying to not even think about what you might look like.

You’re just glad you didn’t vomit.

A deep breath settles in and out of your lungs before you turn your head to look at Austin, the light of the TV casting beautiful shadows on his face. Your eyes skitter over the scruff beginning on his jawline and your fingers itch to follow. You clear your throat, getting his attention, and he turns his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry for getting plastered.” You smile a little because he does; that same amusement back on his face, though it doesn’t bother you this time around. “I’m shocked that you do weddings.”

You allow yourself to laugh a little, shaking your head like it’ll somehow clear the fuzzy memories of him bringing you back to your home, tripping over yourself. You regret the way you’ve carried yourself, but a tiny part of you is glad you decided to let yourself go, to enjoy the open bar and let your emotions run a little rampant for once.

You’re so used to keeping everything inside, to holding it all in. For once you didn’t.

Austin’s chewing on words he’s not saying, you can see the hesitance in his expression, wanting to say something but unsure if he should. You wait, don’t press, and eventually,

“Admittedly, I haven’t done a wedding in a while.” He shakes his head, “Because they tend to be messy in a way that I never expect.”

You wince, rubbing the back of your neck because…clearly you hadn’t planned on making a fool out of yourself but Austin quickly continues to explain,

“I don’t mean you.” He turns a bit to lean against the couch, his shoulder pressed along the cushions. Austin licks his lips, his eyes tracing your jawline and lips, slipping down your neck and collarbone enough to make you shiver.

“In your request, you said somethin’ like, ‘I don’t want my ex to feel like he’s taken something from me. Something that’s mine and will always be mine’.”

You search his eyes for a moment and when his finally meet yours, something warm and aching starts in your chest, blooming outward like a flower only meant to grow at night. You swallow thickly, “You remember that?” Because you kinda…bared you soul in that request for a date service. You hadn’t meant to come across so desperate but…you were also just being honest.

“I have a very good memory,” He attempts to wave this off, and you want to tell him not to—that what he’s saying matters. Austin’s seeing you, over walls you didn’t realize you had up after all this time.

“You said kind of implied that you wanted Todd to regret cheating on you, but I think you really meant that you wanted him to see that he didn’t break you.” He licks his lips and trails his pinky finger along your jawline as he curls loose hair behind your ear. “I’ve met a lot of women in similar situations, and not all of them have handled it like you.”

A laugh slips out of your throat, something you can’t stop. You’re trying to break the tension gathering in the room, something heavy and thick like warm cotton settling over both of you. Handled it? You haven’t exactly done that well, have you? If last night is any indication.

“What, they didn’t hire a male escort and get piss drunk?”

He smiles gently, shaking his head. “They let their exes break them because they couldn’t figure out who they were without them.”

The warmth in your chest threatens to burst and you wish for a moment that you could see yourself the way Austin does, so clearly, like everything is laid out before him, all he has to do is read.

“But not you.” It barely leaves his mouth before you close the distance between them.

The heat erupts in a single kiss, both of Austin’s hands tangling themselves in your hair, pulling it loose from your haphazard bun. He kisses you like you’ve always wanted to be kissed, even though you hadn’t realized it was something that was missing until now.

He inches you forward, forcing you to move until you’re straddling his waist, blankets getting caught and tangled in-between. Anything that’s been building up suddenly releases into you both, like a wave crashing, heated breaths against skin and not being able to get close enough. Austin tugs off your long t-shirt and a shiver travels down your skin as you reach up and automatically unclasp your bra.

You sit there for a moment, almost in the wake of realizing what you’ve done, and you watch Austin’s gaze. His eyes drink you in, hands still on your waist, trailing up your sides, thumb slipping underneath one of your breasts to press against your ribcage. The touch is intimate enough to cause something sharp in your throat, thick swallowing for it to disappear. You lean forward, presses your foreheads together and you kiss again.

You’re fumbling to get blankets down, to move everything out of your way and Austin flips your positions, easing you down onto your back along the cushions. He rifles for something in his suit jacket that’s nearby while you slip your hips up to slide your underwear down and off and away. He’s got too many layers on and you itch to immediately remove his shirt when he’s overtop of you again.

Toned skin greets you and you can’t help but touch, sink your fingers in, drag your nails. The noises that leave Austin’s throat are enough to single handedly build the heat beginning in your lower belly, something you don’t think you ever want to stop hearing. He moves only long enough to take his pants off, tossing them to the side, and he holds your gaze—

He waits.

You swallow and know this is such a bad idea, that nothing good can come from this. But wasn’t it Austin who urged you to figure out what you want? You want to feel confident? Wanted? Good enough?

Then it has to come from you first.

There’s a half-nod in Austin’s direction before he’s slipping a hand down between you, to put a condom on but also—

You moan, rolling your hips as you feel his fingers slide against you, inside of you. He teases, rolls flesh between his thumb and forefinger, lips falling to your neck to leave kisses that eventually find your mouth again.

He takes his time even though you wish he wouldn’t, building you up and letting you down easy before pressing inside. You gasp and your back arches, hips rolling forward, Austin leaning down to capture your mouth again, to absorb your sounds. You wrap your legs around him, which makes moving a little difficult, but you don’t want him to move too far away, want to constantly feel him—keep you both connected.

Austin nips at your lower lip with his own, not taking you long to build up what you’ve started. Pleasure circles in your veins, pulling you towards an end that you doesn’t want to reach yet. He doesn’t stop, keeps moving his hips forward at a quickening pace and you dig your nails into his back.

You barely have time to warn him before you’re cumming, though because your bodies are molded together, you think he already knows—probably knew before you did. He grunts as he loses himself in you, his face falling to your neck, gentle panting and lazy kissing.

You tilt your head back so your throat is exposed, your hands slipping down his back and settling on his waist, his skin a little slick to the touch. He lays there for a long few moments and you take one another in, his chest pressing into your own as you both breathe.

He pulls back too soon for your liking, but you don’t have the energy to tell him to stop. Austin cleans himself up, slipping onto the couch again, this time behind you, and pulls you close. You turn on your side, blankets coming up over your shoulder as you puzzle-piece both of you together, your face hiding in his neck, already falling asleep.

Austin says nothing, which is fine with you, he doesn’t need to say anything. His lips find your shoulder, a few kisses here and there, hands intertwining in your hair.

You finally figure out what you want—

and you want this. You want him.

You wake up before Austin does, pulling yourself from the couch and disappearing into the bathroom near the kitchen. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you kinda shake your head before drawing up Jill’s text messages on your phone.

Y/N: I think I messed up.

You wash your face and feel a little more human, sitting down on the closed toilet seat as she pings you back.

Jill: oh no, what happened? Jill: please tell me Austin didn’t turn out to be a serial killer

You laugh, your hand covering your mouth. Jesus. A small, hysterical part of you wonders if that’d be easier to deal with.

Y/N: the wedding went fine, he brought me back home, stayed the night Y/N: may or may not have had sex with him on my couch this morning??

Jill instantly tries to call you and you press the red button—you can’t talk to her when he’s still here.

Y/N: I can’t, he’s still here

Jill: !!!!!! Jill: girl omg— Jill: how was it? 😉

Running a hand over your face, you wonder if you should have ever said anything. Then again, there’s this small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. In general, you know that there’s nothing wrong with what you’ve done—both of you are consenting adults. But then there’s this whole other layer of…paying him to be your date. It’s not like you paid him for sex or anything but…

You kinda can’t help but wonder how many jobs he takes that end up like this.

Y/N: it was perfect but that’s not the point

Jill: so what is the point?

You sigh softly, tapping on your cash app and just…wondering. So many insecurities and questions and wonderings wrapping around you like a blanket, except it’s far too tight, suffocating almost. Taking in a breath, you set your phone down on the counter, looking up when there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” Austin asks, “You alright?”

Reaching over to grasp the knob, you open the door with a soft smile, “Yeah.”

Austin looks ridiculously adorable slept on. His hair is slightly askew, skin looking warm, a soft, tired look in his eyes. God, you can’t believe he’s been here for so long in these wedding clothes, back in his slacks and a white undershirt.

“I uh,” He clears his throat, “M’gonna head home. Shower, change. But…”

You lick your lips, your stomach flip-flopping with eagerness.

“I was thinkin’ I could come back later; we could talk?”

God, talking sounds like such a great idea. Not to mention you could shower too, put yourself together, feel more like someone capable of having a serious conversation. So you nod with a soft smile—that sounds perfect.

And then—

You can pinpoint the exact moment that Austin glances to the sink and sees the cash app open because his expression changes, like a shadow passing over but instead of dissipating—it stays, darkening the color of his eyes. A breath catches in your throat as you straighten your shoulders, words on your lips and stuck on your tongue. Nothing comes out.

His gaze flickers up from the phone to your eyes and what you see there is like a cold bucket of ice water, anger but…deeper, it’s—

“Not what it looks like.” You finally say, breaking the tension into pieces with a hammer.

Austin hums, nodding his head and licking his lips. He’s trying very hard to speak without sounding annoyed, “What’s it like then?” He asks, the words daggered. “Cause it looks like you were about to pay me for services rendered.”

You shake your head and stand from the toilet on wobbly knees. Austin takes a step back from you, almost like a caged animal, getting ready to bolt. And then you realize, right, he’s not angry, he’s hurt.

“No—”

“Don’t lie to me,” He grounds out, the words chewed on between his teeth.

A shuddered noise leaves your lips because you can tell you’re losing it, this conversation slipping like sand between your fingers. He’s not going to be willing to listen to you if you confirm he’s right, that you had thought about it—if you admit you weren’t sure what you were doing or what sleeping together meant.

You distantly know that this isn’t going to end well, no matter what you say. Austin tore his walls down in front of you, exposed himself, and now he looks like a fool for doing it. Even if it’s on accident, you’ve hurt him, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to backpedal without looking guilty.

“I thought about it,” You admit after a moment. “I wasn’t…” The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel cheap; you know that this thing started as a transaction but also that something changed last night.

“Nah, it’s good. You were payin’ me to do a job, right?” Austin turns to walk back to the living room, gather up his things. And it’s like…you have no idea what you can possibly say, how you can stop him.

Your legs carry you forward, “Austin, don’t.” You sigh and puts a hand on your lips, suddenly feeling nauseas as he moves too quick for you to stop him.

“Business is business. You can stop feelin’ so guilty,” He straightens his shoulders before grabbing his jacket, slipping it on. Metaphorically it feels like a shield, another layer he’s building back up between them both, shutting you out.

He can’t possibly leave like this, right?

You’re practically stumbling over your own feet as he makes it to the front door, “Please don’t walk away.”

His hand pauses on the doorknob, just for a moment, like he might actually be considering your words. But then he yanks the door open and slams it shut once he’s outside.

You don’t go after him.

Time goes on.

You expect that Austin might reach out to you—to apologize, to start over, or maybe even request the unfulfilled payment that he was supposed to receive after the wedding date. But nothing, it’s radio silent…and you think that’s worse.

You want to reach out to him on your own, but you’re not even sure where to begin. How to apologize for thoughts that are incomplete in your head. How to express emotions that are sitting at the bottom of your ribcage.

You’re just hoping for a chance to apologize and explain yourself, even though you’re not entirely sure you deserve it. Is this really it? Going back to business as usual and pretend they never met one another?

You sigh as you hear a few knocks on your door and hate how it feels like hope, quickly moving from your kitchen to tug it open and see Jill on the other side. You give her a small smile, letting her inside,

“I got your twenty texts, you alright?”

You run a hand over your forehead and shake your head, moving towards the kitchen for Jill to follow. You offer her a cup of coffee, sitting back at the counter with your own. Wrapping your hands around the ceramic, you glance up at your friend,

“I screwed up.”

Jill sighs softly, grabbing a cup for the coffee because clearly, she’s going to need it. “Tell me what happened; your texts were all hysteria and no detail.”

You map out the whole thing from start to finish, the chapel, the reception, the night of, the morning after—your voice drops on intimate details, like somehow you have to keep them exactly that. Intimate.

“Damn, Y/N.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I know…it was an accident.” You swallow. “The money part, anyways.”

She adds a few spoonfuls of sugar to her mug, stirring. “Does tall, blonde and brooding know that?”

You let your hand fall from your face, eyes focusing out the window above the sink at the city sounds and sights. Suddenly a dark blue gaze rekindles in your memory, the hurt there, wounded and refusing to let you past his boundaries again.

“I tried to tell him; he wouldn’t listen.”

Jill hums under her breath a moment and shuffles, “Maybe give him some time? Try him tomorrow.”

Easier said than done, “I don’t even know where he lives. He’s not going to pick up the phone if I try to call him; texts are useless.”

Your friend’s quiet for a few moments, considering—and then a sound leaves her lips and you picture a lightbulb going off on her facial expression. “But you know where he works.”

You stand outside the café that Austin works at for what feels like a long time, staring at the sign and pacing back and forth to your car parked down the street. You really hope no one is watching you because you probably looks crazy; you feel crazy. You can’t just approach this man where he works, can you? You don’t even know if he’s working today.

But it’s…worth a try, right? Like one last shot before you just drop it.

You’re not sure that if the situations were reversed, he’d show up at your front door, so. Or maybe you’re just hoping he would.

So after spending ten minutes contemplating what to do, you finally force yourself to walk up the café door and make your way inside. It’s a hole in the wall but filled to the brim with people at tiny circular tables, waiting in line to place their order with a beautiful blonde cashier and satisfied customers adding sugar and creamer to their coffees at a station to your left.

The heady scent of fresh coffee and baked goods slam into you like a truck, leaving you almost breathless. This place blends in when it should stick out—she wonders if you didn’t know Austin if you’d come in to order an iced coffee just walking by on the street.

Your eyes graze behind the counter until you finally spot him further down, filling baked goods trays in a window that were once empty. A ton of questions hit you at once; did he make those baked goods that are at his fingertips? How does he separate the time between the café and the stand-in job? What are you going to say to him?

Before you can fully approach him, Austin glances up—and spots you.

He’s not happy to see you but he doesn’t look as pissed off as the last time you saw him, so, you consider that progress. You swallow as you walk towards the counter and your hand settles on the top of the glass, the lights above the pastries warming your palm.

“Hi.” That’s it? That’s all you can say? This conversation is going to be just as painful as the last one.

Austin doesn’t have a chance to open his mouth because another worker, a blonde girl, rushes to the counter because she must be on register, “Hi,” She smiles, bright, “We have orange scones on sale today. What can I get you?”

You smile gently at her, glancing at Austin and wondering if he’s going to step in or just…continue not saying anything to you. You suppose you don’t blame him.

“I’ll uhm, take a hazelnut latte and one of those scones,” You nod, reaching for your wallet in your purse, “Thank you.”

“I got the rest of this, Chloe,” Austin steps in as you stick your card into the reader. “Thanks.” He watches her go before turning his attention back to you, customers passing by and receiving orders that he’s already packed at the end of the counter. He hands over your receipt.

“You stalkin’ me now?” He asks but he’s not amused, drumming his fingers on top of the counter.

You let out a slow breath and he moves to fill your order, working the espresso machine with practiced ease, “You won’t text me back.”

“Maybe that’s cause I didn’t wanna talk to you,” He says pointedly before motioning towards your right, “You skipped the line.”

“I didn’t want to order anything, I just wanted to talk.”

He smirks but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes and he grabs an orange scone, wrapping it in a napkin. “Look at you, really learned how to be honest about what you want.”

“You taught me how.” You insist, trying to catch his gaze. When you finally do, you hold it there, trying to will him to listen to you—because you’re not grasping at straws, meeting him, spending time with him…being with him really taught you about parts of yourself that were missing.

Or maybe not missing, exactly, but lying dormant.

“I just want five minutes of your time, please, then I’ll leave you won’t hear from me again.”

Austin lets out a long patient sigh with a shake of his head, something between aggravation mixed with a touch of being impressed—you’re persistent, at least. He’s going to hear you out and suddenly all the words mix in a blender and sink to the bottom of your ribs; you’re almost unsure of how to put this but all you can do is try.

“You’ve been right since we first met; I didn’t know how to want things for myself even though I expected so much out of other people.”

You chew on your lower lip a moment, eyes tracing over the handsome lines of his face—now was not the time to get distracted.

“This whole thing caught me off guard, I wasn’t prepared to want you…and not just as my stand-in date, but you.”

He doesn’t hold your gaze and maybe that’s okay, he busies himself with getting other people orders, keeping the line moving but you can tell he’s still listening to you. He’s still intent on hearing you through…even though you’re almost certain it’s not going to make a difference.

You can tell by his expression, by those walls remaining firm; they’re not budging for you.

Not again.

“The money thing was a mistake. You were right, I did open up my app and think about it because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what this thing was or if I was…imaging how I felt. So I fucked up but…so did you for not sticking around and talking to me.”

Austin’s shoulders straighten; he doesn’t appreciate you calling him out. A rod appears up his spine, his posture almost towering despite the glass case between them.

“I just…that’s it,” You swallow, your thumb running over the scone in your one hand and picking up your finished latte with another. “That’s all I wanted to say. Sorry for disrupting your work.”

You turn quickly, can’t take the look in his eyes anymore, the bustle of other people around you. You’ve said what you needed to—you should feel more complete than before, right? Because at least he knows your side of things.

It’s his turn.

You push the door open, the welcome bell dinging after you as you leave.

He doesn’t come after you.

You try to shake your head as Jill orders another shot, but can’t quite stop her because the woman has a mind of her own when it comes to having a good time.

“No,” You crinkle your nose.

Jill laughs, “Oh come on—one more. You’re not calling it early already, are you? We can get fries after this.”

You sigh, a bit dramatically, but how can you turn down fries? “Fine.” You shake your head, running a hand over your face as you sit at the counter of your frequent bar, “I’ll be back though.”

You slide off the barstool, motioning she should save your seat as you put your purse on it. She grins, cups your cheeks with her hands and plants a kiss on your forehead. You shoo her off, moving through the crowd to the restroom. Once you’ve used the bathroom and spend a little time with a cold and wet paper towel to the back of your neck, you come back out and nearly run someone over—

And blink because—

“Austin.”

It’s been a few months since you’ve seen him but fuck, he looks just as amazing as he did when you tried to explain yourself in the café. Wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, boots and a white button down, he’s got a leather jacket on as well, just a bit more scruff to his face.

“I was wonderin’ if you were gonna be here.” But it’s…contemplative, thoughtful, like he might have actually planned on trying to find you in the bar where you met.

You feel like the world might be spinning off its axis. “Here I am.”

He smiles a little, glancing over his shoulder and fuck, you wonder if he’s here with someone and—you’re pleasantly surprised that it doesn’t cause some adverse reaction. No punch in your gut that you completely screwed everything up. Time, it seems, does heal some wounds.

Maybe not heal, scar at the very least.

“I saw you post somethin’ on your instastory and I was…well I was hopin’…” He kinda trails off and two thoughts slam into your body like a freight train. One, he sounds…nervous? Which you feel like is very unlike him, given what you’ve been through together. And second? It actually sounds like he knew you were here and he meant to find you on purpose.

“Can we talk?” He asks, “Maybe outside?”

“Yes,” And god, you hope you don’t say that too fast. “Fresh air sounds good.”

As you begin to walk outside with him, you text Jill letting her know where you’re going (and with who). She sends you exactly three text messages in response that you don’t dare look at.

You take in a deep breath in once you get outside, the cool air settling over you like a bucket of cold water. You almost wish you grabbed your jacket from the bar but…dragging Austin over there towards Jill would have been such a bad idea.

It’s fine—the air is refreshing, a bit sobering and this conversation probably won’t last long either way. Taking in a breath, you turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself.

“So…”

Austin clears his throat, “You uh—?” He motions to his jacket and you’re not quite strong enough to deny his offer, so you gently nod your head. Austin slips off his leather jacket and hands it to you and you put it on.

A soft noise of approval leaves your lips as your arms go through the sleeves, a little bit long, feeling perfect though when you zip it up. The lingering scent of his cologne and skin is enough to almost knock you on your knees.

“Thank you.” You whisper, curling your hair around your ear.

You know that Austin is gathering his thoughts, but waiting almost somehow feels worse. You’re just…not sure what to do with yourself other than stare at him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” He finally says, “At your place?” It’s like the tension start to unwind from your shoulder at that, you almost have to physically swallow over your words so you can let him speak. “Just…felt like what we did, it was real—and—”

“It was real,” You assure him, can’t allow him to think otherwise, “I know this is going to sound cliché but…opening that cash app had everything to do with me, not you. I wasn’t second-guessing what happened.”

Austin gently waves you off, “It’s not your fault, I—I’m so used to things bein’ a business transaction that I just jumped to conclusions.”

You give him a small smile and it feels good? to be on the same page after all this time but…it’s not like, “It’s okay,” You curl your hair around your ear, “I’m not sure where something like this could go. I wouldn’t ask you to quit a job that’s clearly lucrative.”

Austin nods softly, “Well you don’t have to, because I already have.”

You’re not sure why what he says doesn’t register right away, you’re kinda just staring at him, wrapped up in his leather jacket, people passing you both on the sidewalk as you stand outside this bar.

Then you blink, “What?”

He smirks, running a hand through his hair as he nods, “Yeah, I uh—just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

You feel like your brain might be short circuiting, “But about acting? What about L.A.?”

A soft laugh rumbles in his throat, “I can still do L.A. Bein’ an actor isn’t goin’ anywhere.”

And you know that he still has a café job, that he can find other jobs to satisfy what he wants in terms of collecting money but…somehow you’re worried he’s traded one thing in for another. Even though Austin doesn’t look like he has any regrets as he takes a step towards you. His hands gently rest on your arms, sliding down, like he’s waiting for you to push him away.

When you don’t—

“You're not the only one goin' after what they want.”

You can’t stop a small laugh from slipping from your lips and before you can talk yourself out of it, you press yourself up on your toes and kiss him. His arms wrap around you automatically, drawing you closer, his one hand cupping the back of your neck.

It feels like you’re kissing for a long time, or maybe it’s just felt too long since you’ve kissed. Either way, pulling away makes you feel a bit breathless and Austin smiles, pressing your foreheads together for a moment.

It feels like starting over, or maybe even better, a new chapter.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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sstan-hoe · 1 year

Text

◇ 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 ◇

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — stepdad!bucky barnes × stepdaughter!fem!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — it's your weeding day, you are marrying the man you love...or are you? he says he loves you, so why is he letting you marry the man he claims is not right for you?

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — angst, I hope you're crying, SMUT, fingering, oral (f receiving) p in v, light daddy kink, a bit of degrading and mean bucky, light praise, cheating

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — reblog, comment and/or follow | I got this idea from reading something on tumblr but I can't remember who posted it, tell me what you think!

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃

“He asked me, he asked me, mom he asked me!” you squealed as you entered the kitchen showing off your engagement ring with a big smile.

Your mother's eyes widened in excitement, she hugged you tight and whispered in your ear how happy she was for you. With pleasure you returned the hug, still not able to believe Peter had asked you to marry him.

“When’s the date, sweetie?” she asked as she led you to the living room to sit down. “We didn’t exactly set a date, but we wanted a summer-ish wedding, like summer but still spring,” you explained your mother who smiled dreamily.

“Oh, yes! May is perfect for that,” she proposed to which your eyes lit up, “yes, yes May is great!” you hugged her again.

“This gives us four months to plan, do you two have any other plans?” your mother asked, she was happy you finally found your happiness in Peter. She adored the young man and always told everyone how he would be her son in law.

“Not exactly, we know that we want to keep it quiet. Just family and close friends,” you explained. You hated having to many people around you and if it was just your family and friends you would feel a lot more comfortable.

Your mother agreed with you, however she fought against the urge to change your mind. She needed to respect your wishes, even if she didn’t want to agree with them.

Just then the front door opened and Bucky Barnes, your stepfather walked in. Your mother immediately stood up and fell into his arms with excitement, confused he hugged her back with a smile.

“What has gotten into you honey?” he questioned lovingly, his wife squealed, “my baby is getting married! Peter asked her to marry him, and she said yes.”

Bucky’s eyes squinted at the news, “did he now?”

Bucky Barnes, CEO of Winter Techs, successful businessman and new husband of your mother for three years now. One day you came back home and walked into your father’s house to find a stranger sitting comfortably on the couch with your mother.

The moment she saw you she got nervous and babbled about how they met, how much they loved each other.

You inspected him more closely as he came to introduce himself, he was the complete opposite of your father. Dark hair, broad shoulders, a light stubble beard, tall as well as muscular and most of all younger than her.

Add to that from the looks he was more your type than hers, you never questioned her why she chose someone younger. It wasn’t your place and after gathering more information about Bucky your questions were quickly answered.

After your father died your mother fell in dept and needed the money, Bucky had money, a lot of money and to top it all off he made her feel young as if she wasn’t almost eighteen years older than him – five years more than you.

You couldn’t believe her. You wondered if she actually loved him or if she just wanted the money and the feeling of youth.

Over time you got to know Bucky better despite your efforts to stay away, it wasn’t just that you didn’t want a relationship with him but also the fact that he was insanely attractive.

Bucky however always sought contact with you until you couldn’t stay away anymore. The man could read you like no other and knew of your attraction towards him. One night, your mother in bed and you alone with Bucky, you acted and kissed him.

This was it, that was the start of your affair with Bucky. You wanted to stop, but he was addicting and to your surprise the relationship wasn’t just sexual, no he took care of you and whispered sweet words in your ear.

Long story short. You fell for him but knew he would never feel the same or act on it which was the reason you decided to move on. The only problem? Bucky didn’t accept it, you landed in bed together more often than you’d like to admit.

Peter could be your salvation, he could help you break the cycle. This marriage could be your way out, right?

“I’m happy for you, sweetheart,” Bucky snapped you out of your thoughts with a smile on his face as if was really happy for you. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said tight lipped and pushed yourself up from the cushions.

You want to leave as soon as possible, not wanting to be in the same room as him any longer. “I’ve got work tomorrow so I will go to bed now…,” you stated, and your mother hugged you tightly again. “Proud of you my girl,” she whispered and kissed your cheek, “good night,” Bucky nodded along.

With that you walked up the stairs, a relieved sigh blowing from your lips. You needed a shower, thankfully you had your own bathroom which shielded you from any unwanted intruders.

The hot water relaxed your muscles, and you could feel the tension leaving your body. Hopefully this would all end in a few months.

After the shower you turned on your hairdryer and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. Your thoughts running wild, but the sound of the hairdryer smoothing you.

With a frightened squeak you jumped up a little bit. Bucky had entered with a glare on his face, “marriage huh?” he asked while sitting down. You scoffed at his audacity, “what? Did you expect me to never move on and always pine after you?”

Bucky shook his head, of course not but he wouldn’t let this boy take you away from him. You belonged to him, and he would make sure you knew that.

“No, but you shouldn’t settle for someone like him,” he admitted and closed his hand around yours, but you pulled away quickly. “Someone like him? He’s nothing but good to me, worships the ground I walk on, always knows when I need something, is the nicest person you’d ever meet and he loves me,” your voice broke in the end.

“And I don’t love you? I don’t worship the ground you walk on? I don’t know when you need something, I’m not good to you milyy?” Bucky’s voice is hard, he grips your jaw instead to make you look at him.

He loosened your towel and revealed your naked body, his fingertips grazed over your sensitive skin. You could feel him putting his jaw on your shoulder, his lips close to your ear.

“Tell me, do I not love you?” he questioned again, beginning to stroke your clit. You didn’t want to answer him, his questions were unfair, and he knew it. “Mhm, you’re already wet,” the deep voice sends shivers down your spine, only making you wetter.

“James we can’t,” you whined, letting your head fall back against the wall. A slap on your drenched cunt had you gasping, “what’s my name?” Bucky growled. “Daddy,” you whimpered, a deep chuckle sounding through your ears at the word, “good girl.”

His unoccupied hand closed around your throat, the cool metal sending shivers along the back of your neck. He made you look into his ocean blue eyes, they were filled with lust, lust for you.

You closed your eyes, not being able to look into his eyes any longer. He would draw you under his spell again, you couldn’t let it happen…, “look at me milyy,” he commanded, voice angelic and hard to resist.

“Mhm, you look so good with my hands wrapped around your neck,” Bucky praised, his hand fit around your neck like a necklace. The only one you wanted to wear forever.

While his lips ghosted over yours, his fingertips circled your mound. You whimpered, the brunette always teased you to no end. It was torture, sinful, pleasurable torture.

Two of his fingers entered your tight hole, you squeezed them tight as he curled them inside you. The tightness had him scoffing teasingly, “how can you still be this tight? How often have I fucked you yet huh? One would think I’ve stretched you out by now,” he purred against your mouth.

Oh, how true his words were. Almost every night he would sneak into your room and gift you immense pleasure. At the beginning he had to careful as to not hurt you, the first few times he prepped you until he was able to fully fit inside you.

“I have given you so much, and this is how you thank me?” with a sharp tone he hit your certain spot which had you moan pathetically.

If you could, you would have scoffed, the audacity. He gave you broken promises, countless nights of heartbreak that left you crying yourself to sleep. Those moments seemed to overshadow the good ones by now, the ones you should have had more off.

“Poor guy…how will he take it when you tell him you changed your mind?” his words were laced with honesty, Bucky knew what he was saying and meant every word off it.

The way he massaged your spongy walls made you yearn for more, though your orgasm wouldn’t come easy. They never did with Bucky and if it wasn’t for your current situation you’d preen in every second of it. Now, right in this moment, something was difficult.

“Aww, milyy, my beautiful girl...do you want to come? Tell me I’m the only one, tell me you only love me,” if you weren’t drowning in pleasure, you would have heard his voice waver at the end of the sentence. Bucky didn’t want to lose you.

“You’re the only one, I only love you,” the words melted from your tongue easily, no doubt in your tone.

You shakily moaned as his fingertips pressed against your sweet spot, a tight feeling spread in your stomach. Bucky had his metal fingers still on your throat but you clawed onto his back with compact breaths as you chanted his name over and over again like a prayer.

Nails digging into the white dress shirt that covered his beautiful body, thumb flicking your clit and fingers curling. “Come,” he demanded, letting go of your throat to steady your back, “come on my fingers, show me how good you can listen to me milyy.”

Listen you did, your orgasm came crashing down on you. Even with the blow dryer on your moan would have been heard if it weren’t for Bucky swallowing your mouth with his.

He almost muted your sounds, the kiss made you think you’re in heaven, you wished it could stay like this. Bucking your hips against Bucky’s thigh to create more friction was no use.

As you came down from your high everything downed on you. Lips still locked with Bucky in a passionate kiss, it reminded you of easier times…if they ever were. He was the man of your dreams, but he could never truly be yours.

Still in your little headspace Bucky picked you up and carried you to your bed, he turned off the hair dryer before kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll get you a tea and then we will find a way how you can break the news to Peter,” was all he said and then left your bedroom.

You registered his words slowly, you finally needed to break the cycle. Carefully you walked to the door and locked it, sliding down the hard wood closing your eyes defeated.

Muffled footsteps echoed through the door. Bucky tried opening the door. It didn’t open, again, still closed. With more strength this time, still closed. A scowl overtook his features, “milyy, open the door. I won’t tell you again,” his voice hard and demanding.

“We need to stop, this was the last time,” it was hard saying these words, but they needed to be said, “I’m going to marry him, I’m going to marry Peter.”

Bucky slammed his fist against the door, “no, no. Milyy you won’t, no!” A tear rolled down your cheek at the volume of his voice, why did this have to be so hard? “James leave, please,” another tear grazed your skin.

On the other side of the door Bucky had his forehead leaned against the wood, ‘James’ only you used his first name. Everyone else used his nickname or ‘Mr. Barnes’ but not you, it became special to him and strengthened the bond between you two.

“Open the fucking door,” he sounded demanding – he was. Again, he banged his fist against the door before sliding down like you, his hand pressed to the door.

“Don’t, I love you,” Bucky’s tone was softer now and his voice broke while all your dams broke. Tears streamed down your cheeks, “you have to leave,” you sobbed wiping away the tears, “Bucky,” you said his nickname to underline the importance behind it and the need to act as if there was nothing more than a father-daughter relationship.

Bucky shook his head desperately, it hurt to hear you say his nickname in a situation like this. One single tear escaped his eye, he wasn’t ready to lose you.

Neither one of you were able to sleep that night, you cried yourself to sleep, and Bucky laid awake next to your mother not touching an inch of her.

The next day you avoided him as much as you could, instantly met up with Peter. You spoke with him and a few days later packed your things to move out of your mothers home. She was happy for you while Bucky glared at Peter’s back the whole time.

All he could do was watch you leave, his heart breaking with every piece of you that left. To your mother he acted as if he was just a little sad you moved out, she believed him and loved the whole act of him stepping into the father figure.

The months leading up to your wedding you barley came to visit your mother at her house. Bucky laid awake most nights with you on his mind, his heart completely shattered.

Meanwhile you didn’t feel any different, but the attraction you felt towards Peter helped you. Everyday you animated him to have sex with you, made him go shopping with you, tried being with him every second just so you wouldn’t think of Bucky.

Peter didn’t mind, he enjoyed the time and only fell deeper in love with you.

Your wedding day. It was, finally, your way out. Today you had to face Bucky again, he would walk you down the isle – a wish your mother had. Hopefully everything go well today.

Currently you were getting ready, your maid of honour and mother helping you. They talked to you, how happy they were for you, but all you could think about was Bucky. Why wouldn’t he leave your mind? Today was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, you’re marrying the love of your life…or are you?

“I think I need a minute…alone,” you whispered, letting your head hang down as you fiddled with your fingers. “Of course, honey,” your mom said and kissed your cheek, then moving out of the room with your friend.

As soon as they were gone you sighed heavily, why was it so hard? You wanted to cry but didn’t dare to smudge your make up which took the stylist an hour.

A soft knock caused your head to snap up, you prayed it wasn’t Bucky, “come in,” you announced and to your dismay it was Bucky. You hoped it was your dismay.

“Hey,” he greeted you and closed the door behind him, locking it. “Unlock the door,” you tried to keep your voice strong, to not let him know that he had an effect on you with just walking in the room.

“Please, let us talk,” he begged walking over to you. “We don’t need to talk, it’s too late,” turning your head you looked right into his ocean blue eyes which were filled with hurt.

“It’s not, I love you and you love me,” Bucky took your hands, the familiar feeling of warmth and comfort spreading through your body. “If you loved me you wouldn’t still be married to my mother Bucky,” your voice disgusted at the fact that he was still with your mother and slept with her.

He fell on his knees before you, “don’t call me Bucky, you always say James,” he whispered as his head came to rest on your lap. It hurt you to say Bucky as well, gladly you would go back to James, but it would be wrong right?

“That doesn’t change anything. I’m tired, tired of sharing you with my own mother who only married you for your money and to tell herself she’s still young,” you sniffled as the words left your mouth, you loved your mother, but it was the truth and Bucky went along with it.

“You told me you loved me and then went to sleep in her bed, do you know how much that hurts? I wanted to be with you day and night, but can you say the same?” the tears broke finally free. Until the very end you believed him, it was wrong you knew that.

“Milyy, don’t cry, please. I love you, I know I should have left her and I will, I have the papers ready,” lifting his head he loosened his right hand to wipe away your tears.

You were shocked by that reveal, did he lie? Was he being honest? How could you find out? Why did you even care? You cared because you loved, loved him more than you should.

“I can’t just leave. I risked so much for you, I’m done risking everything for you,” you shock your head. In about thirty minutes you were supposed to walk down the fucking isle and marry, and here you were crying, smudging your make up because of Bucky who declared his love for you and that he was close to divorcing your mother because of you.

“I love you so much, I know what you’re risking but I promise you I’m not lying. This time I won’t stay away, I won’t leave. You are my everything, you’ve been for a long time now and I’m sorry I didn’t show you properly,” both of his hands were now on your face catching the tears. Bucky moved his body up to be face to face with you.

You wanted to believe him, no, a part of you already believed him. After all your body yearned for him and as much as you loved Peter, he was no match to Bucky.

“James…,” hope lit up in Bucky’s eyes as you said his name, his first name, “I love you, but…,” was there really a ‘but’? There should be, Peter is a worthy, ‘but’ he should be the one.

“Milyy I’m done, I will show you how much you mean to me,” words hard he bunched up your dress and vanished under the fabric. You knew what was about to happen as you felt his rough pads dance along your skin.

The brunette pushed your white thong aside, “mhm white lingerie, picked it out just for Peter? For the big wedding night?” his voice was muffled but you were still able to hear his teasing word for word.

He latched onto your cunt without hesitating and groaned as soon as he tasted you, “how much I missed this pretty pussy.” At the deep groan you weren’t able to hold your whimper back, why did he have to be this hot?

With his metal thumb he stroked over your clit, the coolness sending a shiver down your spine. His tongue moved in and out of your leaking hole, the feeling of pleasure consuming your body and Bucky’s sinful words filling your thoughts.

“Oh, milyy have you let him eat your cunt? Let him have a taste of my cunt?” a slap on your sensitive mound pulled an unexpected squeal from you, “I expect an answer when I ask you a question.”

“I did, I let him eat my pussy, I’m sorry daddy,” you whine and oh how quick you were to fall for him again.

He shook his head, mumbling how disappointed he was in you. Still, he let his tongue back to roaming through your cunt, hitting your sweet spot which he found instantly.

As he devoured you like you were his last meal your orgasm approached. A tight knot build up in your stomach, you scrunched your eyes shut only waiting for the blissful feeling to overtake you. Bucky knew you were close, not just your stomach tightened no, your cunt almost imprisoned his tongue.

Bucky’s cool thumb drew circles on your clit before he gently bit his teeth down on your bundle of nerves. A pornographic moan slipped from your lips as a rush of ecstasy crashed into you, it was all it took for you to have one of the best orgasms in months.

With his tongue he guided you through your high, he was proud to have you shaking under him.

Replacing his tongue with two of his flesh fingers, Bucky pulled his head from beneath your dress. “I’m not done with you yet,” a sentence that promised pure pleasure and stilled a need in you.

“You look beautiful in white milyy,” Bucky cooed curling his fingers as he laid his hand back on your cheek, thumb stroking your bottom lip. You closed your mouth around his digit, sucking gently exactly like you sucked his cock.

His head fell back and his dress pants tightened, cock rock hard pressing against the fabric. It didn’t help his case that you, dressed in white was something he dreamed off.

Butterflies erupting in your tummy, you understood him. You missed his cock too much, no one was like, could be like him. Bucky was loosing his patience, retracting his fingers, and moving his hands to your waist. He lifted you onto the table, tugging the top of your breast down exposing your lace covered breasts.

“Would you look at that? Wearing a lace set I bought you, do you think he deserves to see you in it or were you waiting for me? Hoping I’d show up?” Of course, you hoped he’d show up, but you tried to repress the wish.

A scowl placed on his lips, “you dare to wear it for him,” he growled as he undid his pants revealing his beautiful cock.

Your mouth watered at the sight, thick, and the girth is proportioned along his shaft while the head of his cock is even thicker. Mushroom formed head leaking with precum, his pretty curve you’d knew would hit every spot.

Oh, how bad you wanted to suck him off, “hold that for me milyy,” he ordered, holding up your dress. Doing as told you gripped the white fabric, wanting to do everything he asked of you. “Be quiet, we don’t want your mother hearing you…or your soon to be husband. What would they do if they knew you getting fucked by your stepdaddy huh?”

Your mother would disinherit you and Peter would curse you to the moon, but you didn’t care you wanted Bucky.

Slowly he pushed his tip in, already stretching you slightly, “daddy,” you whimpered. Had he been becoming bigger since you last fucked him? A tear rolling down your cheek, however this time from pleasure.

He continued pushing in, the way he stretched you made you feel a kind of pain you welcomed. “Fuck, see? This is what happens when I don’t fuck you enough. You’ve gotten tighter, I need to stretch you again. You will let daddy split you apart won’t you milyy?” Bucky began moving his hips at a slow pace, wanting an answer from you.

You tried focusing on forming words, but your head felt empty, he filled you up too good. A deep chuckle sounded through the room, “can’t believe I already fucked you dumb,” he could believe it.

“Yes, harder,” finally you managed to say something, and it didn’t surprise Bucky, but who was he to deny your wish? His pace became rougher.

With every thrust he hit your spot, god how much he loved the feeling of you clenching your walls together. When he added his thumb into the play you moaned louder than before. He loved the sounds he could drive from you but it was too dangerous right now.

“Keep making those loud sounds and I will have to punish you,” lacing his metal hand around your throat and squeezing it as a warning made your walls clench resulting in your lover groaning.

If your head wasn’t empty maybe you would have been able to bite something back. Even though Bucky was pummelling and destroying your pussy, you need him closer. Wrapping your legs around his middle you brought him closer to you.

His cock hitting deep inside you, without the dress there would have been a belly bulge visible.

“Missed me so much milyy? God, I’m gonna come and let you milk my cock till the last drop,” Bucky was close to the edge, it had been too long since last had his cock buried inside you.

“Come for daddy,” you tightened around him but needed more, something was missing, “fucking come for me, I said,” his tone became harsher, more controlling. Bucky pressed lightly on your throat. That was it the choking, the thumb circling your clit, the way he split you open with his cock.

A pathetic whine left you as you came all over Bucky’s cock, bliss shooting through your veins. “James,” you sighed over and over again, the name music in Bucky’s ears.

“Good girl,” he praised, his pace becoming uneven as his high neared, “milk every last drop of me or I will paint your pretty face with it and let you walk down the aisle covered in my cum.” He didn’t have to ask twice for you to drain him.

He reached his high and let his head fall on your breast to muffle his groan. You accepted every drop of him like you were told, your hands snaking into his hair to keep him where he was.

The last drop came from him, he stilled in your cunt. Endorphins jumping through the air, you’ve never been happier. Bucky, your James was with you again, “I love you, James,” you whispered with a smile. He wasn’t able to keep himself from smiling either, gently he freed his hair from your grasp, “I love you too, milyy,” with joy he locked your lips with his.

Your hands rested on his cheek, the fire and passion you two held still not gone.

Suddenly a knock on the door broke you from the moment you shared with Bucky. With wide eyes you sat up causing Bucky to whimper as he was still inside you.

“Honey? Are you ready? We’re about to start in five minutes, I’ll get Bucky and then we can start,” your mother’s voice could be heard. Everything that just happened downed on you, how could you fall into Bucky again? No, no, no, this couldn’t be true.

Bucky let go of you and pulled his cock out, dripping with you mixed juice. “You have to decide now, leave with me or marry him,” his tone was serious, “maybe this will help you,” reaching into his pocket he pulled out a plug and pushed it into your leaking hole, “wanna make you keep everything.”

Just then you instantly stood up, “this was wrong, you’re lying. You will never leave my mother,” you run around to room, trying to fix yourself.

“How can you be so fucking stubborn. I’m going to divorce her, you get that? I will leave her for you, we can be together. You won’t marry that boy, milyy.” Even Bucky was getting fed up by now, he just wanted you and no one else.

“Those are just words James. You say this and that but when are you going to do something!” You raised your voice, after all this time and he still didn’t understand it.

“You say that now, you will divorce her, but what if I marry Peter. What then? You keep being married to her? As long as you don’t act on nothing, I will marry him,” you couldn’t let him bring you under his spell again just to hurt you. Peter was good for you and acted when he said something.

Bucky scoffed, he was serious. Everything was ready, Steve made the divorce papers, Natasha searched him a new house and the missing piece was you.

“Honey?” your mom called again and this time you answered, “I'm coming!” You gave Bucky one last glance, “will you act on it, James?”

Bucky couldn’t get one word over his lips, he wanted to and he already did act on it, but why was is it so hard to say something?

His silence was defining for you, you shock your head with a glare and walked out to your mother who was excitingly awaiting you, “everything alright?” she asked. You smiled, it was forced but she didn’t seem to notice, “I will walk down alone,” was all you could say.

Your mother was confused, why wouldn’t you let Bucky walk with you? Before she could ask you were on your way and the ceremony began.

Peter smiled, even shed tears as he saw you, however your tears were of hurt instead of happiness. As it began you noticed Bucky coming back in the corner of your eye and whisper something to your mother which left her shocked. A hint of hope sparked in your chest.

Everything went like it should, you said your vows, even were able to say ‘I do’ which to you felt more painful than it should have. “Does anyone here have something against this union? Speak now or be silent forever,” the priest said.

“I do,” a deep, familiar voice said. Shocked everyone turned to the one who those word belonged to, all eyes on Bucky, James, “I have something against it.”

𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑻𝑾𝑶 — @smile1318 @wintasssoldier @xcaptain-winterx @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @jobean12-blog @antisocialwritingx @broadwaybabe18 @waddlenut @buckymcu12 @witchybabel | @ozwriterchick @daemonslittlebitch @alana4610 @hockeybae @ravens-junk-journal

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | @sstanhoe-updates blog where new fics will always be reblogged in case you're not interested in the taglist as it has conditions

#bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #stepdad!bucky #stepdad!bucky barnes #stepdad!bucky barnes x reader #tw stepcest #my cat lover bucky 🦾🤍

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