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lila-lou · 2 months ago

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✨Taking her in - Pt. 3✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language

Word Count: 5005

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Dean had come to the bar to blow off some steam, but the situation was becoming unbearable. The tension between you was too thick, every glance, every brush of your arm against his, setting off a chain reaction of emotions he wasn’t prepared to deal with. He needed to get away, needed to find some sort of release before he completely lost control.

As he scanned the bar, his eyes landed on a blonde at the bar. She was staring at him, her gaze lingering with interest. It was an easy out, a distraction he could lose himself in, something to take the edge off the turmoil he was feeling. Dean cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus on the present rather than the chaos inside him.

“I’m off for tonight”, Dean mumbled, not really addressing anyone in particular but loud enough for Sam and you to hear. He nodded subtly towards the blonde, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he handed Sam the keys to the Impala.

Sam raised an eyebrow, catching the drift immediately. “Alright, man”, he said, a hint of concern in his voice. “Just take it easy, yeah?”.

Dean barely heard him, his attention already shifting toward the blonde at the bar. He needed this—needed something to anchor himself, to keep his mind off you and the way you were driving him crazy without even trying.

You knew exactly what Dean was up to the moment he handed Sam the keys and nodded toward the blonde. It was like a familiar script that played out far too often over the years—Dean seeking out distractions, trying to bury whatever was eating at him in the arms of someone who could offer temporary relief. And every time, it felt like a punch to the gut, a painful reminder that no matter how close you were to him, there was a part of Dean that he kept walled off, unreachable.

As you watched him head toward the blonde, your heart sank, a familiar ache settling in your chest. You bit your tongue, forcing yourself to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over. This wasn’t new; you’d seen it before, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. You’d become good at masking the hurt, at pretending it didn’t bother you, but tonight, it was harder than usual.

Dean didn’t waste any time. It took less than three minutes for him to strike up a conversation with the blonde. From where you sat, you could see them clearly—Dean leaning in slightly, his posture relaxed, the faint smirk still playing on his lips as he spoke. The blonde responded with a light laugh, her hand reaching out to brush his bicep in a way that made your stomach churn. She was grinning up at him, clearly enjoying the attention, and Dean, ever the charmer, played right into it.

You tried to focus on something else, anything else, but your eyes kept drifting back to them, drawn like a moth to a flame. The more you watched, the more the knot in your chest tightened, the hurt you were trying to bury rising up and threatening to choke you. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was the painful realization that no matter how much you cared about Dean, he would always keep you at arm’s length when it came to his deeper feelings.

Sam noticed the change in your demeanor. He was more perceptive than most gave him credit for, and he’d seen this look on your face before—whenever Dean decided to drown his emotions in a meaningless hookup. He knew it wasn’t his place to say anything, but he also hated seeing you like this.

“You okay?”, Sam asked quietly, his voice gentle, his concern evident.

You forced a smile, but it felt thin and brittle. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… tired, I guess”.

Sam didn’t push, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. “You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. We can head back to the bunker”.

Just when you were about to answer Sam, a guy appeared at your table, cutting into the conversation with a polite smile. He was tall, with a scruffy kind of charm, and his confidence was apparent in the easy way he carried himself. His eyes flicked between you and Sam, clearly sizing up the situation. Given the visible age gap between you and Sam, he must have assumed Sam was your brother, or maybe even your dad.

“Hey”, the guy said, his voice friendly but not pushy. “Sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help noticing you from across the room”. His gaze settled on you, and he flashed an easygoing grin. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to dance?”.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond, your mind still tangled up in thoughts of Dean and the blonde at the bar. You glanced at Sam, who raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem overly concerned. If anything, there was a hint of encouragement in his eyes, as if he was silently telling you it might be a good idea to accept the offer.

Sam gave a slight nod, as if to say, It’s okay. You don’t have to stick around for my sake. He wasn’t pushing you, but he wasn’t stopping you either. It was your choice.

The guy, picking up on your hesitation, quickly added, “No pressure or anything. I just thought it might be fun. If not, no worries”.

You looked back at the guy, his expression genuinely open and kind, and something in you decided that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let yourself have a little fun, to try and forget about Dean for a while. Maybe, just for tonight, you could focus on something other than the ache in your chest.

“Sure”, you said, offering him a small smile. “I’d like that”.

His grin widened, and he extended a hand to you. “Great. I’m Jake, by the way”.

“(Y/N)”, you replied, taking his hand and letting him help you up from your seat.

As Jake led you toward the dance floor, you couldn’t help but steal one last glance at Dean. He was still engrossed in his conversation with the blonde, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. The sight made your chest tighten again, but you forced yourself to look away, focusing instead on the present moment.

Jake guided you into the rhythm of the song. He was a good dancer, confident without being overbearing, and he made it easy for you to relax and follow his lead. For a few moments, you managed to push away the thoughts of Dean, letting yourself get lost in the music and the carefree atmosphere.

Jake was easy to talk to, his conversation light and amusing, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected. He didn’t push for anything more, just kept the mood fun and relaxed, which was exactly what you needed. The dance floor was crowded, and as you moved together, it felt nice to be the center of someone’s attention for once, without the weight of complicated feelings hanging over you.

An hour had passed, and you had managed to push Dean out of your mind—at least for tonight. Jake was good company, his easygoing nature making it easier to forget about the knot of emotions that usually tied you up inside whenever you thought about Dean. You laughed, danced, and even flirted a little, allowing yourself to enjoy the night without the usual weight on your shoulders.

Sam had also found some company, chatting with a woman back at your table. It seemed like everyone was finding a way to unwind, to escape the constant tension that followed you all like a shadow. For the first time in a while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could have a night where you weren’t weighed down by the complications of your feelings for Dean.

Meanwhile, Dean was far from your thoughts—at least physically. The blonde from the bar had been more than willing to follow him to a more secluded spot, and they had ended up in one of the bar’s dingy bathroom stalls. It wasn’t the first time Dean had sought out a distraction like this, but tonight, it felt more desperate, more like he was trying to outrun something that was catching up with him.

The blonde was on her knees in front of him, her hands working at his belt as Dean leaned back against the stall door, his eyes half-closed. He was trying to lose himself in the moment, to let the sensations drown out the thoughts that had been plaguing him all week. But no matter how hard he tried to focus on the here and now, his mind kept drifting back to you.

Even with someone else’s hands on him, it was your face that flashed in his mind.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the noise of the bar, the feel of the cold, cramped bathroom stall. He wanted to lose himself in the moment, to escape the thoughts that had been gnawing at him for days, but the more he tried, the harder it became. The blonde was doing everything right, but all he could see, all he could think about, was you.

It was your face that flashed in his mind, your smile, your eyes—the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. And even though he knew it was wrong, knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, he couldn’t help it. His mind kept going back to you, to the thought of what it would feel like if it was your hands on him instead.

He felt a surge of guilt wash over him, but it wasn’t enough to stop the reaction that coursed through his body. The blonde had managed to open his belt and zipper, her hands working quickly, but it wasn’t her touch that was making him hard—it was the image of you in his mind, the thought of you being the one on your knees in front of him.

Dean gritted his teeth, trying to hold onto the fantasy, trying to pretend that it was your hands, your mouth. He knew it wasn’t fair to the blonde, knew it wasn’t fair to you, but in that moment, he couldn’t stop himself. He needed this, needed the release, needed to imagine just for a second that he could have you in a way that he’d never allowed himself to consider before.

Dean’s mind clung to the image of you, the fantasy overtaking reality as he allowed himself to sink into the moment. The guilt was still there, nagging at the edges of his thoughts, but it was drowned out by the overwhelming desire coursing through him. The fantasy was so vivid, so consuming, that it pushed aside everything else.

And it worked.

His body responded instantly, the tension that had been building inside him releasing in waves as he imagined it was you in front of him, not some nameless blonde. He could almost feel your breath on his skin, your hands on him, your eyes looking up at him with that mix of trust and something deeper that you always had when you looked at him.

The release was both a relief and a torment, because even in the throes of it, he knew it wasn’t real. He knew that when it was over, he’d still be standing in a dingy bathroom stall with a woman who wasn’t you, and the feelings he’d been trying to suppress would come crashing back down on him with twice the force.

But for those few moments, he let himself believe it was you. He let himself feel what it would be like to finally give in to the desire that had been gnawing at him for so long, to finally admit to himself that what he felt for you was more than just brotherly concern. It was something deeper, something that terrified him because he knew it could change everything.

Dean’s mind was still swimming with the vivid fantasy of you as he moved mechanically, slipping his hand inside his jacket pocket to retrieve a condom. The sensation of the wrapper against his fingers brought him back to the present, grounding him just enough to focus on the task at hand. He tore the wrapper open.

Dean pulled the blonde to her feet, his hands firm yet detached as he guided her to turn around, pressing her palms flat against the cold wood of the stall door. She complied eagerly, her breath coming in quick, shallow pants as he lifted her skirt, revealing more of her to him. But even as he moved through the motions, his mind was still caught in that inescapable loop, caught between the reality in front of him and the fantasy he’d allowed himself to indulge in.

As he positioned himself behind her, his body responded automatically, driven by the release he craved. But every touch, every movement, felt like a betrayal of something deeper, something he was struggling to understand. The condom in his hand felt almost foreign, like it belonged to someone else in a different moment. He knew what he was doing—knew what this would accomplish—but the act itself felt hollow, like he was going through the motions without truly being present.

Dean took a deep breath, forcing himself to flip that internal switch, the one he’d used countless times before to detach from his emotions and just get through the moment. It wasn’t easy—not this time—but he knew he had to do it. He couldn’t afford to let his thoughts linger on you, not when he was in the middle of something like this. He needed to compartmentalize, to push aside the feelings that were threatening to overwhelm him and focus on the task at hand.

With a mechanical efficiency, he rolled on the condom, his movements precise but devoid of the usual eagerness he would have felt in a situation like this. The blonde didn’t seem to notice his hesitation, her breaths coming in soft pants as she braced herself against the stall door, completely unaware of the war raging inside him.

Dean positioned himself behind her, trying to focus on the physical sensations, trying to let the heat of the moment take over. But even as he moved, even as he tried to lose himself in the act, there was a part of him that remained distant, disconnected. The release he sought felt elusive, like a distant memory he couldn’t quite grasp.

He gripped her hips, guiding her back toward him, and with a sharp inhale, he pushed into her. The sensation was familiar, yet hollow. His body reacted out of habit, thrusting with a rhythm that should have ignited a fire, but all he felt was a dull ache in his chest.

Dean tried to focus on the physicality of it, on the heat and friction, on the sound of her breathing and the way she moaned softly, but it was no use. His mind kept drifting back to you, to the thought of what it would be like if it were you in front of him, if it were your body he was holding, your voice he was hearing.

It took everything he had to keep those thoughts at bay, to focus on the here and now, but they kept creeping back in, filling him with a sense of longing that he couldn’t shake.

As Dean struggled to maintain his focus, the blonde’s voice broke through his thoughts, her moans growing louder as she complimented him. “You’re so big”, she breathed out, the words meant to excite and encourage. For a brief moment, Dean tried to latch onto the words, to let them fuel the physical interaction and distract from the emotional turmoil inside him.

Dean clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the present, on the physical sensations he was experiencing. Her words, though initially hollow, finally broke through his mental fog. As she moaned about how big he was, something inside him snapped, and he decided to lean into the moment, to use the intensity of it to drown out the thoughts of you that kept intruding.

“Yeah?”, he growled, his voice rough and edged with something dark and desperate. He accompanied the word with a hard, deep thrust that sent her flush against the door of the stall, her palms pressing flat against the wood as she let out a sharp gasp.

The reaction spurred him on, and for a few moments, he allowed himself to get lost in the physicality of it. He gripped her hips tighter, his movements becoming more forceful, more determined to chase the release he needed. The sound of her moans, the way her body responded to his, all served to drive him forward, to help him forget—even if just for a little while—everything else that was weighing on him.

Each thrust was punctuated by a grunt, each movement aimed at pushing both of them closer to that inevitable release. For those brief moments, Dean was able to shut out the noise in his head, to focus only on the raw, primal sensations that came with it.

She responded to every movement, her moans growing louder as the pace quickened, her body moving in sync with his as she chased her own pleasure. The tension between them built rapidly, the intensity of their connection amplified by the urgency with which they were both seeking something—anything—that could provide an escape.

Dean felt himself nearing the edge, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps as he pushed harder, faster, determined to find that release that would offer at least a temporary reprieve from the chaos inside him. The pressure built within him, coiling tighter with each passing second, until finally, it snapped.

As his climax hit him, he gripped her hips tightly as he rode out the sensation, his eyes squeezing shut as he let the release wash over him, his mind blissfully blank for just a few seconds.

But as the pleasure ebbed away, the reality of the situation came crashing back down on him. The emptiness returned, more profound than before, and the guilt that had been gnawing at him from the start surged back with a vengeance. What should have been a moment of satisfaction felt hollow, meaningless, and all he could think about was how wrong it all felt.

He pulled away from her, his movements suddenly awkward and hesitant. He quickly disposed of the condom, his hands shaking slightly as he did so. The blonde, still catching her breath, turned to him with a satisfied smile, completely unaware of the turmoil that was tearing him apart inside.

Dean forced a tight-lipped smile, his mind already elsewhere as he mumbled something about needing to get back to his friends. The words felt empty, but she didn’t seem to mind. She simply nodded, fixing her clothes and giving him a casual wave before stepping out of the stall.

As the blonde stepped out of the stall, she almost collided with you. A casual chuckle escaped her lips as she steadied herself, her eyes glancing over you with mild amusement. “Careful, kid”, she muttered with a smirk, brushing past you as she made her way out of the bathroom.

You barely registered her words, your mind already processing what you were seeing. Your heart pounded in your chest as your gaze shifted from her retreating figure to the stall she had just exited. The door wasn’t closed and you caught sight of Dean.

Time seemed to slow as the two of you locked eyes.

Dean cleared his throat, the sound rough and strained as he stepped out of the stall. He was visibly uncomfortable, his eyes avoiding yours as he quickly adjusted his shirt and ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension, and every second that passed felt like an eternity.

He finally managed to look at you, but the usual confidence in his gaze was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a flicker of something that looked almost like shame, though he quickly masked it with a forced nonchalance. “Uh, hey”, he mumbled, his voice awkward and uneven. “I, uh… I’ll drive home with you and Sam”.

He paused, as if searching for something else to say, some way to smooth over the obvious discomfort of the situation. But nothing came. The silence was heavy, almost suffocating, and Dean shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room before settling back on you.

“It, uh… it went quicker than I thought”, he added, the words tumbling out in a weak attempt to explain away what had just happened. An awkward chuckle escaped his lips, but it died almost as soon as it began, hanging in the air like a bad joke that no one wanted to acknowledge.

You swallowed hard, pushing down the swirl of emotions that had risen in your chest.

Nodding stiffly, you cleared your throat, mirroring his awkwardness. “Yeah, I’ll just… I’m just gonna pee real quick. Sam’s already ready to go”, you mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

Dean nodded in return, relief flickering briefly across his face. “Okay”, he said, his voice still strained. “I’ll, uh, meet you guys out there”.

You slipped into the stall next to him, the silence heavy around you as you tried to collect yourself. The encounter had shaken you more than you wanted to admit, but you knew you couldn’t let it show. You had to keep it together, at least until you were out of the bar.

After finishing up, you washed your hands and took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. You forced a deep breath, pushing down the hurt and confusion that threatened to overwhelm you. This wasn’t the time or place to fall apart, not when Dean was just outside.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw Dean walking back towards Sam, who was still engaged in conversation with Jake at your table. Sam seemed relaxed, laughing at something Jake had said, completely oblivious to the tension you and Dean were dealing with.

You approached the table, a small, forced smile on your face as you moved to say goodbye to Jake. “Thanks for the dance”, you said, your voice softer than before. Without thinking, you leaned in to give him a quick hug, hoping the simple gesture would help ground you after everything that had happened.

Jake smiled, returning the hug with a warm, friendly squeeze. “No problem”. he replied, pulling back slightly to look at you. “It was fun hanging out with you tonight”.

Just as you were about to step back, Jake hesitated, a curious expression crossing his face. “Hey, before you go… could I maybe get your number? I’d like to see you again”.

The request caught you off guard. Your mind, still reeling from the bathroom encounter, struggled to process the shift in conversation.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up slightly, and he glanced between you and Jake with a look that was a mix of doubt and surprise. He didn’t say anything, but the tension in his posture was palpable. His eyes settled on you, as if waiting to see how you would respond.

You hesitated, the weight of Dean’s gaze making it hard to think clearly. Part of you wanted to give Jake your number, to allow yourself the possibility of moving forward, of exploring something new and uncomplicated. But another part of you—the part still tangled up in your feelings for Dean—held you back.

After a brief pause, you offered Jake a small smile. “Sure”, you said, pulling out your phone. You quickly exchanged numbers, the whole interaction feeling somewhat surreal given everything else that had happened tonight.

Jake’s smile widened as he took your number, clearly pleased. “Great. I’ll give you a call sometime”.

“Yeah, sounds good”, you replied, your voice steady even as your mind buzzed with conflicting emotions.

With that, you turned back to Sam and Dean, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on you. The three of you made your way out of the bar.

The walk to the Impala felt heavy with unspoken tension. Sam was still talking, something about the last hunt, but his words were background noise compared to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your mind. You could feel Dean’s presence behind you, the weight of his gaze like a physical force even though you hadn’t exchanged a single word since leaving the bar.

When you reached the car, you slid into the back seat without thinking, leaving Sam to take the front passenger side. Dean got behind the wheel, his movements stiff, and started the engine. The familiar rumble of the Impala filled the air, a comforting sound that usually brought you some sense of peace. But tonight, it did little to ease the tightness in your chest.

As the car pulled out of the parking lot, the silence between the three of you grew more pronounced. Sam eventually trailed off mid-sentence, realizing that neither you nor Dean were engaging. The only sound was the low hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the radio.

Eventually Dean’s eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, catching your reflection as you stared out the window, lost in thought. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone casual even though the question was burning inside him. “So, who was that guy? Jake, right?”, he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

You turned your gaze from the window to the back of Dean’s head, surprised by the question. His tone was nonchalant, but there was an underlying tension that you couldn’t quite place. “Just a guy I danced with”, you replied, trying to match his casual tone. “We exchanged numbers. No big deal”.

Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened imperceptibly, though you didn’t notice. “Hmm”, was all he said, but his mind was racing. He couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that bubbled up inside him, a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of you with someone else. He knew he had no right to feel that way, but it didn’t stop the emotions from churning in his gut.

Sam, sensing the tension but not fully understanding its source, glanced between the two of you. “Jake seemed like a decent guy”, he offered, trying to ease the awkwardness. “He was pretty chill”.

“Yeah”, you replied, your voice distant. “He was nice”.

Dean’s eyes flicked back to the rearview mirror, watching you intently. He couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him since Jake asked for your number. It wasn’t just the jealousy—though that was certainly a part of it—it was the realization that he might be losing you to someone else, someone who wasn’t tangled up in all the mess that he was. Someone who could offer you the normalcy that he never could. Someone your age.

“Are you planning on seeing him again?”, Dean asked.

You hesitated, sensing the shift in his tone. “I don’t know. Maybe”, you answered honestly, still unsure yourself. The night had been a whirlwind of emotions, and you hadn’t really had time to process any of it, let alone make decisions about Jake.

Dean didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he focused on the road ahead. The rest of the drive back to the bunker was steeped in silence, the air thick with unresolved tension. You could feel Dean’s eyes on you every now and then through the mirror, but you avoided meeting his gaze, unsure of what you’d find there.

When you finally pulled into the bunker’s garage, the tension in the car was almost unbearable. Sam was the first to speak, breaking the silence with a yawn. “I’m beat. I think I’m gonna crash”, he said, clearly unaware of the storm brewing between you and Dean.

You nodded, barely hearing Sam’s words as you unbuckled your seatbelt and slid out of the car. Dean lingered for a moment, watching you closely as you headed towards the bunker’s entrance. He could feel the distance growing between you, and it terrified him.

As you reached the door, you paused, finally turning to look at Dean. There was something in your eyes—hurt, confusion, maybe even anger—that made his chest tighten. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that had formed between you, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Goodnight, Dean”, you said softly, your voice carrying a weight of finality that made his stomach drop.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)”, he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned and walked into the bunker, leaving Dean standing in the garage, his mind racing with everything he should have said, everything he wished he could take back. As the door closed behind you, he was left alone with his thoughts, the reality of the situation sinking in.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 4

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#jensen ackles #dean and sam #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #taking her in

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pedgito · 6 months ago

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𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 | Francisco Morales x reader

summary | working your summer job you find yourself fawning over a boy you barely know, realizing by the end of the summer that letting go of him may not be the best idea.

content warning | young!frankie morales, reader is working in bar (if there’s some things wrong, just know i tried fjsjsj), background tf boys, phone texts, inebriated hook ups (frankie is a lil drunk but he’s okay i swear) smut out the wazoo, oral (m/f receiving, protecting p in v, hints of voyeurism, idk let me live in this dream pls

word count — 7.5k

The bar was supposed to be easy cash, a second job you picked up during the summer, between the interim of your final year of college and the beginning of your life—just some extra money to keep you afloat amongst the drowning seas of tuition debt. But, the job came with unexpected challenges—rude customers, drunk customers, (given that you worked in a bar you really couldn’t fault them) but it was the rowdy ones that really got under your skin. And you quickly learned the unspoken schedule of customers as they made their weekly round for a few drinks, some over-fried bar food, and a game of darts or pool.

Monday through Wednesday were some of your more favorite days, friendlier people who liked to visit earlier in the day before the bar got packed after sunset, some relaxed chit chat and a beer or two. They tipped very nicely, too.

Thursday was the slowest of the week, co-workers sliding in to catch a game of pool or watch some sports game on the old, ratty television tucked in the corner area of the bar, even with you squinting your eyes it was still barely visible and they almost always left the biggest messes at their table—but again, you couldn’t complain when it was only a few tables you had to scrub down.

Friday was always busy, the weekends just as bad—from open to close you were shuffling around behind the bar, in tune with your co-workers as you moved around each other. You knew some people by name and some would politely remind you—you saw about a hundred different faces every week, some were bound to slip through the cracks.

But, within your first week there, you found a particular group of boys would show up every Friday without fail—a few rounds of beers, a mountain of wings and fries and whatever else they could get their hands on, and a game or two of darts and a pool table they had just to themselves.

The charmer, Santiago, was the first to introduce himself.

A crisp hundred dollar bill slipped over in advance with a softer tone, “I’m apologizing in advance, they tend to get a little, uh, loud.” It wasn't the right word, but you smiled nonetheless, still checking the money behind the counter in case he tried to slide you a fake and mask it with a simple courtesy that wasn't shown often. Kindness.

You start their tab, grab their orders, and within twenty minutes their voices are already booming over the rest and arguing about a stupid game of darts, three other boys crowded around Santiago as their faces are within an inch of the board, fingers pointing all over.

There is a straggler, though—a man who’s similar in age to most of the boys, late twenties maybe? He had to be close to your age or just a little older but the sodden expression on his face made him feel much older, sipping at the round of beers you had brought by as soon as Santiago headed back for the table.

They call him Catfish, whatever that means—and it seems like they all have nicknames for each other and you wanted to ask, but it didn’t seem worth it. Your Rolodex of names in your head was already bursting at its seams and Santiago was the only one you could bother to remember, especially when he’s sliding over a chunk of cash in advance rather than blowing up his tab and then scrambling to pay.

For a few weeks it’s just that. They come in, Santiago pays, and then they spend a few hours in the back of the bar arguing like boys, rather than men. But, they always leave you a hefty tip when they don’t fill out their tab or when they go over and pay it out and then some.

And naturally, you’re curious. About them. About him.

So, when Catfish comes in on a Saturday night completely alone, that curiosity does get the better of you.

He doesn’t make much of a scene, sliding into the bar stool instead of taking up a table, and seeing how busy it is, he waits—quietly and with a faint smile on his face that you catch a few times in passing, refilling cups with ice and offering a polite smile back.

When you finally get to him you're slightly breathless, wiping your hands on the towel tucked into your back pocket, “Hey, sorry about—what can I get you?”

“Just a beer,” He says with a shrug, promptly sliding over a twenty as you pour and hand off the glass.

“Where’s the others?” You ask curiously, an attempt at casual conversation despite selfishly wanting to know.

“A party,” Fish explains, “Benny won his tournament so they’re celebrating that.”

The name sounds familiar but you can’t quite place it.

“The younger one,” He adds with a subtle smirk, seeing the furrow in your brow of you thinking too hard.

“So Benny, Santiago—but you get stuck with Catfish?”

It can’t be his actual name, but they never use anything else.

“Francisco,” He takes a generous sip of his beer before setting it down, tapping his fingers idly against the surface of the bar, “—but, just Frankie. If that’s easier.”

You tilt your head with a genuine smile, putting a name to a face and it feels fitting, the hat suffocating his mop of hair, curls peeking around the edge of his hat and the dark colored tees he always wore, some sort of dismay always written on his face. You can’t explain it, but it works for him.

Frankie. Francisco. Catfish.

“Well, Frankie—if you need anything just yell. That’s probably the only way I’ll hear you,” You tell him with a laugh before attempting to depart—the bar isn’t too bad at the moment, all customers dealt with but the roar of the bar is loud.

“Well—wait,” Frankie half shouts, grabbing your attention, “what’s your name? I gave you mine, seems fair to ask.”

You tell him with a shrug, “But, I only ever hear honey or sweetheart all night, so really, I’m whatever you want me to be.”

Frankie chuckles at that, looking away briefly as if to busy his mind with something else and you slip away then.

You don’t ask why he came alone—why he would skip out on a party with the men he came here every Friday night with—maybe he needed a break. Alone time. It wasn’t your business.

But, one Saturday becomes another. And two months later he’s come by every Saturday. Alone. And giving you his undivided attention. It’s sweet, you’ll admit that.

He isn’t as closed off on Friday’s when he arrives with the other boys but isn’t as outwardly friendly as say, Santiago would be during that time. But, Saturdays—he’s a whole different person. Lighter. Happier.

He only ever orders one beer, makes small talk, and lately—he’s been walking you to your car. So, not only is he nursing that beer over the four hours left in your shift by the time he gets there, he’s waiting for you. To clock out, that is.

Really, it’s against your better judgment. Allowing a total stranger to know what you drive, where you park, what time your shift ends, but Frankie is a… friend.

He isn’t like most of the customers, terrible at small talk and flirting and only making half-assed, nasty comments toward you when they get a few rounds in.

He’s seen it a few times. He never berates the guys, but he does pull your attention away, occupies your mind, and always manages to slip in a few words that make your legs go weak and encourage the dull throb between your thighs—even if it’s just a smile and an apology on their behalf.

Frankie always shows interests, ask about you and your life in the politest way he can without seeming like a complete creep—you can tell he doesn’t flirt often, by the way he’s quiet around his friends when you stop by their table or how he never asks for your number despite twirling his phone in his hands idly most of the night, trying to seem occupied but mostly staring at a blank screen until he finally gains the courage to ask you another question.

The first night he walks you to your car it’s quick—he stays until you close up for the night and walks around back, a careful and watchful eye on your surroundings as he nods and wishes you goodnight with a half-hearted smile, kicking himself in the ass for not just asking for your number.

And it continues like that for weeks, within those couple months, and gradually Frankie bursts out of his shell little by little until you both are giggling one night over a particularly rowdy customer, having gotten himself arrested for indecent exposure and broken a table.

His hand grazes your lower back as you walk out, a genuine mistake but you turn your head toward him quickly, soothing his worries with a smile as you stick the key into the lock.

“Don’t worry about it,” You tell him with a comforting tone, “I’m used to men being a little more handsy than that, so, if anything, you’re a gentleman.”

“Those aren’t men.” Frankie argues lightheartedly.

“Eh, men who act like boys,” You say, “they’re assholes either way you put it.”

Frankie nods, readjusting his cap on his head as he pushes his fingers through his hair.

You twist the keys in your hand and start the walk toward your car.

“Do you ever take that thing off?”

Frankie’s eyes dart up toward the hat and he chuckles, hidden under the scruff and grown out facial hair, “No. No, not really.”

“Would you do it if I asked you to?”

He contemplates but never gives you a straight answer, forcing you to prod him gently with the end of your key, “Don’t worry—I won’t. Not yet.”

Frankie’s fingers curl around the edge of your door as he holds it open and watches you climb in, mind swimming with a million ways to ask what he wants, but it never comes.

But, you see it on his face immediately, the caution behind his eyes in being so forward with you.

“Ask for it,” You tell him, turning on the ignition to your car, still looking at him as he looms between you and the car door, “—unless you want to make me ask.”

Frankie looks away briefly and you laugh softly at his sudden unabashed expression as he smiles and turns back to you, “Can I have your number?”

You hold your hand out in wait, thumbing in your number the moment the phone finds your palm. You send yourself a short text with a smiley face to make sure it goes through and hand it back over, feeling a sudden flutter of anxiety in your chest.

Not good, not bad—but it is something.

“Put it to good use,” You warn him, “don’t make me regret that.”

Frankie smiles wider that time, his teeth peeking out behind full lips.

“Right,” He agrees, “absolutely. I promise.”

He adds a soft goodnight and you depart, feeling your phone buzz again before you even pull out of the parking lot.

[Unknown Number]: Goodnight

You snort a quiet laugh to yourself.

An hour later, a toothbrush tucked into your cheek as you stare down at your phone when it vibrates. You had half the mind to save his number despite your exhaustion from the shift you worked.

[Frankie]: Home safe?

[You]: Yep. :) Thank you for checking on me

[Frankie]: :) Goodnight.

[Frankie]: Again lol.

It’s stupid—it shouldn’t make you smile. But, it does.

You quickly find every day occupied by Frankie in some form, through text or just the thought of him. He’s everywhere and you can’t seem to care—and you give up sleep in the middle of the night for text conversations that come from just wanting to hear from him, as nervous as you are to just call—you could, you knew he wouldn’t care. But, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You try to learn as much as you can about him.

[You]: Why Catfish?

It’s a random Tuesday when the text comes through his phone. He’s busy in class, cramming himself in as many hours as possible before he tests for his pilot license.

[Frankie]: Long story. Obnoxiously long. Why?

[You]: Just curious. It’s a strange nickname

[Frankie]: So what does that make me?

Frankie doesn’t get a response for a while and he knows you’re probably working, but he finds his fingers reaching for his pocket any time his phone vibrates in the hopes that it’s you.

[You]: Sorry. There was a mess at work.

[You]: It makes you strange btw

[You]: I’m kidding. But, it’s still a weird nickname.

Frankie can tell it’s you from the constant buzzing and he takes a peek at his phone.

[Frankie]: Oh shit. How bad of a mess?

[Frankie]: I know. Maybe I can explain it another time.

You’re busy wiping the beer off your face as you look at his text, the security dragging out the guy who had splashed the glass of liquid back at your face.

[You]: Some asshole threw a beer at me. Nothing new. Clothes are soaked.

[You]: Don’t try to make a joke about that or I’m double charging you this Friday.

Frankie frowns at the implication that you think he’s first instinct is to make a joke at your expense, but you can’t help to protect yourself from the behavior you’re used to from most men.

[Frankie]: Do you need me to bring you something? I can stop by on my way home?

[You]: I’ll survive. Thank you, though. My shift is almost over.

A couple days later you end up going down a fireshot line of questioning to get to know him, much to his surprise.

[You]: Okay. Birthday?

[Frankie]: April 2nd.

He returns the question to which you answer but add on another text with a joke at his expense.

[You]: Damn, a day short and that would be perfect for you. So, you’re an Aries.

[Frankie]: Yeah, whatever that means.

You laugh to yourself, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you walk through your local grocery store to pick up items for dinner that night.

[You]: It fits you. Oh! What do you do for work?

[You]: Fair game since you know what I do.

[Frankie]: We’re all in the army. I work on aircraft.

Oh, that’s…not what you were expecting.

[Frankie]: It’s new. I’m trying to get my pilot's license right now. I’ve got a big test coming up for it.

[You]: That’s so cool! Take me for a ride sometime?

You smirk to yourself as you press send.

[Frankie]: Yes.

You look ridiculous smiling at your phone in the middle of the aisle but you can’t help it.

In the army. A pilot. And a gentleman? Or, at least he’s provided himself to be nice enough. You were both young, so it didn’t surprise you that you were both unluckily single. But, Frankie seemed like such a catch—and it terrified you how badly you wanted him. Even in the simplest form.

A friend, a best friend, even. Or more, definitely more. But, you didn’t mind either way.

He’s due to take the test for his pilot license the Monday after your last shift, showing up with the boys on that Friday before—typical routine and behavior, but he does seem a bit more handsy. Santiago has always been friendly, but he does hug you this time he sees you, catching you on the way back to the bar and he plants a kiss on your cheek that you welcome with a soft, playful shove of your hand at his face and if it strikes Frankie with jealousy, you don’t notice.

But, he does shock you when he wraps an arm around your front and hugs you lazily, haphazardly slumping his other arm over your shoulder as he plants a kiss in your the hair at the crown on your head and rubs your hip with his thumb, leaving you dumbstruck and wanton the rest of your shift, frazzled every time you glance his way.

Santiago orders a round of shots toward the end of the night and thanks you with a wink, departing for the table and interrupting the idle conversation the men were entranced in.

You’re not sure what was going on, wiping down the counter as the night slowed down and casually flicking your eyes up to check on them, hearing them laugh occasionally, glancing your way briefly and suddenly Frankie was headed your way, fiddling around with the brim of his hat as he pressed a forearm against the countertop you had just wiped down.

You snap him gently with the towel and give him a look, he backs away slightly, hovering over the edge of the counter.

“What’s up?”

“They’re a bunch of dicks, I’m sorry.” Frankie deflected, glancing back at the boys who were staring on with sated smirks, clearly enjoying the sight of him fumbling and dropping the ball as he spoke to you. His eyes flick up wearily, soft and so distinct to him that it makes your heart ache. “Pope—Santiago, he dared me to come over and kiss you. And it’s stupid but if I didn’t at least try I would never hear the end–”

You pull him in by the collar of his shirt, the brim of his hat being pushed askew by the force as you press your lips to his in a simple, but unmistakable kiss. Tilting your head slightly as you pull away briefly to kiss him once more, dropping your towel to push your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and it seems like his brain catches up too late, his fingers barely grazing your neck as you pull away.

You pointedly look around Frankie to flip the other three off with both hands.

“Get out of here,” You warn playfully, “before I murder one of them.”

Frankie huffs a soft laugh through his nose before he turns away, speechless.

They were out of there within a few minutes, but an hour later your lips were still tingling.

Frankie is different that Saturday—more energetic, seeming lighter and more playful.

He drinks one beer, then two, surprisingly a couple shots of tequila—and before you know it, you’re seeing a much different side of Frankie than you're used to and it is quite the sight.

“Am I cutting you off?” You ask curiously, “I don’t want you nursing a hangover tomorrow when you have your test on Monday.”

“One more,” Frankie promises, “but—surprise me?”

You shrug, not finding a problem with it.

“Sweet or savory?” You ask him.

You feel your breath catch slightly as he pauses, his eyes doing a subtle drag over your body as you take a couple steps back, reaching for an empty glass.

“Sweet.”

It has an underlying tension to it neither of you address.

You make something up on the fly—fruity and sweet with the slightest bit of tang, nothing that screams Frankie but when you set it down in front of him and he drinks, his eyes widen slightly.

And for half a second you think he might spit it out, but then he’s chugging the rest down—and maybe it’s alcohol dulling his taste buds but he makes a quick show of assuring you he liked it, even if it’s mostly for your own benefit.

Shaking his head as he licks at his lips with his tongue in a way that feels so unnecessary that you can’t help but giggle, snatching the empty glass away from him as he smiles, his eyes half-lidded from the faint buzz he has going on, but otherwise he still seems fine.

You couldn’t let him get that drunk, not when he had so much riding on that test.

By the end of the night, your side hurts from laughing so much, forceably having to shove your hand in Frankie’s face to get him to shut up for half a second, his fingers circling around your wrist as he pulls you forward and you giggle into his shoulder.

“Stay. Let me close up and we can walk through the back.” You tell him and he nods quietly, though his grin never fades, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip idly while he watches you work around the clutter and reorganize, cleaning everything down before you’re flicking off the lights and nodding at him to follow.

If it were anyone else, you’d have given them a stiff kick to the balls and sent them on their way, but the moment Frankie noses at your neck your hard resolve melts and you shrug him away at how much it tickles your skin, feeling his hand wrap around the bicep on your left arm. He’s never been so touchy but you can’t say you don’t enjoy it. In fact, you’re eating it up at this point.

“Frankie,” You warn him playfully, working and failing to lock the door as uses his other hand to squeeze at your side, “come on—I can’t lock up with you doing that.”

“Try,” He teases, challenges, and you can’t help but like the bolder, less restrained side of himself he’s offering up to you.

The gentle nuzzling quickly turns to kisses, wet and open mouthed as he practically drapes himself over you, one hand pressed into the brick wall beside the backdoor and you sigh softly, leaning into his chest as you finally get the door locked and shrug him away.

“Am I going to see you next week?” He asks hopefully, knowing that with August looming in the distance that your job at the bar was close to being nullified.

You shake your head with a bittersweet smile, “Tomorrow is my last day, actually. For now, anyway.”

Frankie’s brow furrows at that and he shakes his head slightly before he’s invading your space, hands cupping your face as he lifts your chin up to meet your lips and kisses you gently, your fingers coming up to curls around his forearms and you feel his lips part just as you pull away.

“What—what are you doing?” You ask him, feeling like an echo as he comes back to the surface with a delayed response, trying to kiss you again but you're pressing your fingertips over his lips until he realizes that you actually want an answer.

“I’ve wanted you all summer,” He admits and it makes your blood run hot, that distinct tingle of pleasure shooting down your spine and it is nothing you were expecting him to say, but tonight was full of surprises apparently, “do I need to prove it to you?”

He presses his forehead against your own and you shake your head in response. You believed him, you didn’t doubt him for a second—but it feels surreal. Those quick, fleeting summer flings you only hear about in passing, never expecting to experience it yourself.

You may never see him again, you had to strike the match while it was still in reach.

“Are there cameras back here?” Frankie asks hastily.

You snort, “No—we’re five minutes away from college dorms in the poorest part of town. People come here for cheap booze, not security.”

Frankie nods at that, “You’re right,” He responds but the end is muffled as he kisses you again, with less care and a lot more tongue as you open your mouth to him and find the words on your tongue are muffled by his.

And thank god the street lights were shit in the back alley, barely working amongst the occasional flicker, you eventually find your way in the darkened corner of the back alley with Frankie’s hand working at the button on your jeans, almost tripping over an overturned crate on the way there that causes you both to burst into a fit of giggles, laughing through the sloppy kisses Frankie can’t help but smother you with, sighing when his fingers dip past the denim and thin fabric underwear to cup your pussy with his entire hand, the warmth of his palm like an answered prayer.

His hat is frustrating though, constantly bumping and prodding at your head before you finally get fed up, plucking it off his head and tossing it to the ground with an annoyed sigh that forces a choked laugh from Frankie’s throat, dipping a finger down the center of your core before pressing inside of you, gasping at the sudden but welcomed intrusion. You release a shaky sigh and open your eyes to look at him, finding he’s plenty amused but still buzzed in his own way.

Half beer, half pleasure—but he looks like he wants to devour you.

Lucky for you, he was starving.

Your mouth hangs open slightly, breathing picking up as he angles his fingers and slips another inside, curling them toward you from within and you pull at the curls at the nape of his neck.

He smirks in amusement, “Wish you could see how needy you look,” Frankie comments, “all it took was a couple fingers, huh?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Too bad it took you all summer,” You pester him as he picks up the intensity, using his other hand to push your jeans lower down your hips, “and some stupid fuckin’ drink to make you finally want to have sex with.”

“Sex?” Frankie jokes through a throaty chuckle, “Who said anything about—”

Your hand cups the front of his jeans firmly, a little harsher than necessary but you can tell he doesn’t mind, almost challenging you to tease him a little more but the moment you both hit a solid wall you’re tripping over each other’s feet and it pulls you back to the surface and despite your clothes being half-stripped away and Frankie’s hand still shoved down the front of your jeans, it brings back a surprising amount levity to assess the situation at hand.

“I mean, do you want to?” You ask him curiously, tucking a curl behind his ear as he blinks, considering how this would affect his relationship with you, as brief and fleeting as it was.

“You’re really asking me that?” He responds, “Of course.”

“Well, I mean you did just say—”

Frankie places his palm over your mouth, muffling the end of your sentence.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He deflects, hoping you’ll play along.

You work at his belt without hesitation, far over the small talk and tired of wasting time. Frankie pulls his hand away much to your disappoint, pouting slightly as he drag his hand up your stomach, under your shirt until he’s got it tucked under your chin and mouthing of your bra greedily, the fingers of his other hand peeking around the fabric to pull it down, taking the soft, pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking with a satisfied groan as you dip your hand beyond his waistband and over his boxers, pulled tight against his thighs and groin. You could picture the sight of him in your mind for hours if you wanted, but you had him here, right here.

Why not give yourself a peek at the real thing?

Frankie is lost, deep within the exploration of your body that he doesn’t even hear your voice when you plead with him, his voice grazing over the delicate skin of your breasts as he pulls away, already ready to descend and yank your jeans the rest of the way down, press his face between your legs and feast on you like it was the best thing he’s tried all night.

But, there’s the pout again—so subtle he would miss it had he not finally given you his full, undivided attention and he was right. You are needy.

His thumb rubs at the small sliver of your lip that’s poking out, rocking his hips gently into the hand still tucked away into his jeans—there was such a distinct charm to him, melting under his gaze the second his eyes made contact with your own. Every time.

“I don’t wanna keep you,” You whine emphatically and Frankie almost immediately begins to shake his head—

No. No, of course not. You wouldn’t be keeping him at all. Not a chance, not a fuckin—his inner monologue is going wild but he finds you perking up at the slowly growing panic on his face.

“But,” You breath, the thumb that was resting at your bottom lip trailing down the valley of your breasts before he cups one gently in his hand, “I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t give you at least something to remember this.”

“Couldn’t forget about you if I tried, actually,” He begins, but you shake your head, shushing him and pushing his hand away before you sink to your knees despite the immediate protest in your knees at the hard gravel—but god was it fucking worth it when you look up, half-lidded eyes staring back as you shake his jeans down his hips, just far enough that you can watch as he does the work with his boxers, cock bobbing free as he settles the band underneath his balls and if has to look away by that point, overwhelmed in the way your eyes roam but you don’t speak, clearly admiring and seering this to memory as you smile cheekily, taking his cock in your hand and jerk him slowly, thumb running along the vein that follows to the head of his cock.

“Get off the floor,” He begs pathetically, “gonna tear your knees up doing that.”

You laugh quietly to yourself and slide your tongue along the head of his cock, dipping down the slit of his head and to his shaft, pulling back at the skin and taking him into your mouth fully. He’s uncircumcised, thick and perfect—he fills your mouth out so beautifully in all his girth that you wonder just how much better it can feel between your legs, filling you out in the best way.

“Oh, jesus—baby, that’s,” You hum, bobbing your head in constant rhythm as your work your free hand around his balls, cupping them and allowing your other hand to cover the rest of what your mouth couldn’t take of his length and Frankie looks like he might actually pass out, looking around desperately for something, anything to lean on before he just settles for the wall behind you, resting both of his palms against the brick as he towers over you.

Frankie sighs shakily, dropping a hand to tuck against the back of your head, and your stomach swirls with anticipation as he allows himself to break his restrain a little, guiding his cock into your mouth with little aide given how eager you were as you took him as far as you could go, brush your nose against the trimmed patch of hair at the base and feel his hand flex in your hair, gripping it tight and attempting to pull you off to no avail, repeating the process until he’s begging for you to slow down, give him just a few seconds to breathe, ultimately finding that you don’t stop until he finally finds his voice again, stuttering out a desperate, “Stop, stop, stop–”

You pull away suddenly, worrying crossing your face but quickly dissipating as Frankie laughs, pulling you to your feet without much fight on your part and he does notice the few scraps on your knees, collecting with blood and he really wishes you would have listened but you brush him off, his body pressing you up against the brick wall behind you, pants still hanging at his thighs and his dick pressed against your stomach, shirt still sloppily bunched up over your tits.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, so vulgar it makes you pulse around absolutely nothing, his eyes roving over your face curiously, his thumb tracing over your lips, with a soft mumble, “God, I need you so bad.”

“My car,” You respond, tongue pressing against the pad of his fingertip as you nod behind him, “Condoms, they’re—in the car.”

Frankie makes a face, sort of amused but a little confused.

“Shut up,” You null his question before it slips out—”It’s precaution, okay? Guys love to pull the whole—”

“No, I—I get it,” Frankie answers, a small laugh rounding out his tone, “I just figured, you know—we’d…go back to your place? Or mine?”

Your hand fists into his shirt slowly, pulling him impossibly closer like he wasn’t already pressed against every surface of your body.

“What if I can’t wait?” Your eyes soften, looking up at him and catching the swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip, wanting to taste that tinge of sugar that lingers with him, “Would you fuck me right now?”

Frankie nods eagerly and you don’t hesitate, grabbing for his hat, placing it against his chest and gripping his hand in your own before you shove him away gently and lead him to your car, mostly covered in darkness aside from the obnoxiously orange streetlight that glowed overhead. Your clothes haphazardly pulled back up as you clamber into the driver's seat to reach over the console and into the glovebox, aware of the hand that slides between your leg as you search in the poor lighting, squealing when he squeezes at the flesh under his grip and shoving the foil wrapper into Frankie’s chest when you finally get your hand on the box.

“Off,” He tells you, pulling at the zipper of your jeans, “all the way.”

There was so much going on in your mind, nothing you could pluck out and focus on but it buzzed with excitement, anticipation, the kind of adrenaline that only comes in situations when your judgment is hasty and not fully-thought out. You’re barely kicking your shoes off and pulling your jeans past your ankle before Frankie is manhandling you into the backseat, and pressing his face between your thighs as he licks into you, a surprised gasp tearing from your throat as you grip the seats wherever you can.

Your pussy throbs under the care of his tongue, and he carries on obnoxiously, making a mess between your legs as his fingertips grip at the flesh of your ass and force you to open yourself wider to him, “Frankie—” You interject weakly, but he silences you with his mouth, sucking at your clit like it was his new obsession and you whine so pathetically that you find you covering your mouth in shame, biting gently at your bicep to muffle the flurry of sounds that came out after.

He pulls away some time later—minutes, hours, days, you can’t even place it. But, you hear him shift, the rip of the wrapper and the jingling of his belt as he shifts his jeans further down and slides into the backseat more comfortably, hovering over you. His hands squeezing at your hips, a comforting gesture as he speaks from behind you.

“Are you sure?”

It’s sweet, you can admit that. But, you don’t need that.

“Frankie.”

He wasn’t budging. Because, if by some sudden change of heart you didn’t want this, he wanted to know.

“Yes. Yes,” You say, turning slightly to look over your shoulder, his face only an inch or so away as you tuck your arm back and push your fingers into his hair, pulling his face next to yours as he pushes inside of you slowly, yanking gently at the strands between your fingers as he settles, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

“Let me hear you,” He begs, “It’s just us.”

He hears you all the time, voice carrying across the bar but never like this—for him, only for him.

He pulls back gently, snapping his hips firmly and you hum softly, slightly giddy over the entire situation. He continues that way, so gentle and cautious that it makes you wonder why you both avoided this for so long, “More?” Frankie asks. You nod and his pace quickens slightly, a little harsher, and your hand grips onto the passenger seat beside your head for leverage as he chest rumbles with a deep sigh, “Fuck this is—baby, you have no idea.”

“Tell me,” You plead, the quiet creak of the car drowned out by your loud, pathetic moans as Frankie’s fingers curl around your throat and hold, no pressing or squeezing, just another place for them to find a home.

“Thought about this—so many times,” He admits, “came here for months—fuck, months. And then you show up and I was nervous—couldn’t, couldn’t even think of what to say to you. I knew I’d embarrass myself in front of them.” He squeezes then, a gentle pressure on your throat that has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“I had to see you alone,” His throat is tight, his breath a little quicker as he speaks, his hips snapping into you at a steady pace that clouds your mind effortlessly, “wanted you for myself—and, I would’ve fucked you that first night if you’d let me.”

You cunt squeezes him tight at his words and he curses, “So greedy, baby. She’s drooling all over me—such a fucking mess,” And you need to see him, face the man who’s finally found just the right amount of confidence to make you speechless. You lean up suddenly and force a hand into his chest and he only looks slightly confused before you’re pulling him inside and forcing him to sit into the cramped back seat, uncaring of the open car door as the car rocks with the weight of your bodies and you seat yourself on his lap, gripping his dick in your hand and sinking back down onto him without a word, curling yourself over him as you push away the hair clinging to his forehead, damp from sweat and his eyes are blown wide, staring up at you like he was under hypnosis, gaze locked on your own.

“Tell me now,” You challenge him—nowhere to hide behind his words.

“Would you—have let me fuck you that one night I walked you to your car?” He asks.

You smile guiltily, remembering the heat of his hand on your back, never really an accident.

“I’d have let you fuck me over the pool table if you asked, Frankie.” You admit, “In front of your friends too, if that’s what you really wanted.”

Frankie laughs weakly, giving you the lead as you lift your hips with a sudden eagerness.

“Is that what you want?” You tease him, “You guys are all about claim, right? Army boys love to show off—I mean, they’d probably be into it. Santi, for sure—”

Frankie covers your mouth with his hand and you giggle, biting playfully at the flesh of his palm.

He squeezes at your hip with his free hand, forcing you into a hurried pace as he begins to move his hips to meet your own, lifting off the seat slightly with every snap of his hips. Your cry is muffled by his hand but Frankie sees it in your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes that tells him.

“Touch yourself, babygirl,” He tells you, “Let’s see how bad you want it.”

You lean back between the open space of the driver and passenger seat, one hand gripping the upholstery of the seat while the other works between your legs, fingers drifting over your clit and into the mess of yourself that was leaking over Frankie’s cock from where it was buried inside of you and he wasn’t lying—you’ve never been so turned on in your life. Half-assed hook-ups and guys that didn’t give a shit about your own pleasure, Frankie was a goddamn dream and a hell of a good fuck.

You know your body well enough that it doesn’t take long, but the show is for Frankie’s benefit alone, head thrown back over your shoulders as your middle and ring finger circle your clit, occasionally wrapping your hand around what of his shaft was available as you tried weakly to move your hips, squeezing to pull a soft little gasp from his chest. It was such a damn shame you didn’t have him fully naked, splayed out on the mattress in your shitty apartment. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin, leave half crescent marks and a reminder of you for days, weeks even.

“Fuck, I’m right there, baby—” He warns, unexpectedly joining your own fingers and forcing you over the edge just before he pulls you in, a brutal snap of his hips before he’s muffling the deep groans of his orgasm into your skin, teeth sinking gently into your shoulder.

The next few minutes is spent in a blissful silence, moving off of him carefully as he discards the condom but never letting you drift to far, still curled up and half naked on his lap as he pushes a strand of hair away from your face, pulling you in for a kiss that takes your breath away, literally pulls from your chest and makes your heart stop.

Oh…this was not good.

You breathe shakily and pull away with a smile that masks that sudden ache in your chest and kiss again at the inside of his palm. He leans his head against the backseat, eyes closed as he catches his breath and groans slightly when you move off of him, oblivious and exhausted as you redress hastily beside him, pulling your jeans back up your legs and over your hips, slipping your shoes on and readjusting your shirt, shaking him gently when you fear he might have passed out right there in the back of your car.

“Frankie,” You call out, saying his name a few more times before you call out, one last time, “Francisco, hey.”

His eyebrows raise in question, a subtle smile on his lips as he peeks an eye open to look at you.

“I really need to get home,” You tell him, laughing half-heartedly at his drunken stupor, “you’ve gotta go.”

Frankie seems to realize then that he can’t drag this out any longer, redressing himself slowly as he climbs out of the car, watching you fiddle with your shirt and your appearance, trying to not look like you just got fucked in the backseat of your car.

He seems to notice the slight dismay on your face, knowing that your lives were diverting down different paths, but this was still the present. Now. And he was still here.

He presses you into the driver’s side door and kisses you then, hands crawling up the side of your neck and caressing the curve of it, dipping his tongue past your lips and really stealing your breath away, moaning into your mouth like you were the greatest thing he’s ever tasted.

You pull away regrettably when you feel him start to ramp up again, “Good luck on your test, by the way.” You tell him honestly, “You can text me the good news when you pass.”

Frankie chuckles, “I will.” There’s a long pause and then he’s speaking again, the few words you weren’t sure you wanted to hear, “Can I see you again?”

The hesitance is obvious on your face and it kicks Frankie down a peg, but he gets it. He wasn’t a boyfriend, barely even a friend. But, he was still hopeful.

“Maybe.” You offer, “I mean—you still have my number. I’m just a text or call away, you know.”

Frankie couldn’t admit that you were the only thing getting him through this summer without relapsing or making another misstep, that wasn’t your burden. But, the weight on his heart is heavy and his own to bear, welcoming the hug you offer him immediately and squeezing you so tight you might break, but of course, you don’t.

And he thinks that if he showed up broken, in pieces, that you would know exactly how to piece him back together, but he hoped that never happened. That maybe you might manage to escape him and he wouldn’t drag you down with him.

“Goodbye, Frankie.”

He smiles and nods, settling his hat back on his head as he steps away.

You leave soon after, not sure why this sudden dark cloud is looming over you.

Frankie never texts you about his test and the texts you send in the aftermath are never responded to—and eventually you give up, feeling like an idiot for being hopeful in the first place.

↝ beta: @chaotic-mystery

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #francisco morales smut #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #frankie morales fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #triple froniter #my writing

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rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

Text

Between Sets and Scenes

SUMMARY: As a dedicated personal trainer in Washington D.C., you've worked with high-profile clients before, but when actor Glen Powell steps into your gym, life takes an unexpected turn. What starts as a simple fitness transformation for Glen quickly evolves into something more when the lines between professionalism and attraction begin to blur. A chance encounter outside the gym leads to late-night conversations, unexpected connections, and the realization that sometimes the best chemistry happens off-screen. But with Glen's rising star and your grounded life, can you keep things casual, or is something deeper already taking shape?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 5.8K

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The familiar ping of your inbox echoed through your office as you finished typing up a nutrition plan for one of your long-term clients. Leaning back in your chair, you took a sip of your water, already mentally preparing yourself for the evening rush at the gym. It was mid-spring, the time of year when everyone suddenly remembered they had vacations or summer plans that required them to get into shape. Your calendar was filling up fast, but you thrived in the chaos.

As you clicked through your unread emails, one subject line caught your eye.

Transfer Client: Glen Powell – Ultimate Performance, Los Angeles.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Glen Powell? As in the Glen Powell—actor, movie star, all-around charmer? You quickly opened the email, skimming through the details.

Eddie here, from the L.A. branch. We’ve got a transfer for you—our client, Glen Powell. He’s been working with us for a while, getting in shape for a bunch of his previous roles. Glen’s a solid guy, no diva attitude, but he’s wrapping up filming in D.C. and needs a few weeks of training before his next project. Figured you’d be the best person for the job.

I’ve attached his info and previous programs. Let me know if you need anything else, but honestly, Glen’s a hard worker. You shouldn’t have any problems.

Just, uh, maybe keep an eye on the tequila intake.

Cheers,Eddie

You chuckled at the tequila comment but focused on the rest of the email. This was definitely an unexpected assignment, but you were more intrigued than overwhelmed. A high-profile client like Glen meant there was a level of professionalism and discretion required, but you had handled demanding clients before. Glen Powell would be no different… right?

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be worth getting a bit more insight from Eddie before you met with Glen. He’d worked with Glen before and could offer valuable information that a few attached files couldn’t convey. You reached for your phone, quickly dialing Eddie's number. After a couple of rings, the line connected, and Eddie’s laid-back demeanor and accent came through.

“Hey! I had a feeling you’d call.”

You laughed softly, leaning back in your chair. “I couldn’t resist. Glen Powell, huh? Big name. I wanted to get some inside scoop on him before I officially start working with him.”

“Totally understandable,” Eddie replied. “Glen’s honestly one of the easiest clients we’ve had. No diva behavior, no slacking off. He shows up, puts in the work, and follows the plan.”

“That’s good to hear,” you said, relieved. “Anything in particular I should keep an eye out for? You mentioned the tequila?”

Eddie chuckled on the other end of the line. “Yeah, man loves his tequila. It’s the only food from our restricted list he really ever eats. He’s not gonna go overboard, but just be aware that he likes to unwind with a drink now and then. He’s been keeping up with his workouts since our last session, so he’s not starting from scratch.”

“So he’s already in pretty good shape?”

“Definitely,” Eddie confirmed. “He looks great, but he’s looking to tighten up for this rom-com he’s shooting soon. Wants to get that beach body look, you know? He’s got a few areas he wants to tone up, but overall, you’re just fine-tuning.”

You made a few notes as Eddie spoke, already thinking of some adjustments you could make to Glen’s program to push him toward his goals. “Got it. Anything else I should know about his routine?”

“He sticks to his meal plans pretty well. I mean, the guy’s a professional at this point. You’ll probably notice he doesn’t need a lot of hand-holding. But don’t be afraid to push him—he responds well to a challenge.”

You nodded, appreciating the insight. “Thanks, Eddie. I’m excited to get started with him.”

“You’ll do great. Just keep it fun, keep him motivated, and I’m sure you two will get along fine.”

After wrapping up the call with Eddie, you hung up and set your phone down, staring at Glen’s profile on your screen. This wasn’t just a regular client. This was Glen Powell—known for his charm, his dedication to his craft, and apparently, his love for tequila.

With a deep breath, you stood up and stretched. Time to prepare for tomorrow, when you’d officially meet your new high-profile client. You had a feeling this wouldn’t be your typical training session, but you were ready to rise to the challenge.

A week had passed since your conversation with Eddie, and you’d spent the time crafting the perfect workout plan for Glen. He didn’t need a complete overhaul, just some fine-tuning to get him into peak shape for his upcoming role.

Now, sitting at the front desk of the gym, you were watching the clock, knowing Glen would be arriving any minute.

The gym was quieter than usual—late morning hours had a way of lulling the space into a calm before the after-work crowd flooded in. You glanced over at the door, almost on instinct, when the bell chimed. And there he was.

Glen Powell.

He strolled in with that signature effortless charm, his stride confident but relaxed. His black t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders, and his black athletic shorts showed off his toned legs. A baseball cap turned backward, completed the look. Even with his casual attire, he had an undeniable presence.

You stood up from the desk, offering him a smile. “You must be Glen.”

His grin matched yours as he walked up to you, extending a hand. “That’s me. And you must be [Your Name], right?”

You nodded, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and warm—just as you’d expected. “That’s right. Good to meet you in person.”

“Likewise,” he said, his eyes scanning the gym behind you for a moment before settling back on you. “Eddie’s told me great things about you.”

“Oh, did he?” you laughed softly, appreciating the compliment. “He said some pretty good things about you too.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head with a mock-serious look. “Well, I hope I live up to the hype.”

“I’m sure you will,” you replied, motioning toward the gym’s main floor. “Ready to get started?”

His smile widened, and he adjusted the strap of the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”

You led him toward a quieter corner of the gym where you had the session planned out. “So, Eddie filled me in on what you’ve been up to, but I’d like to hear from you. What’s your goal for these next few weeks?”

As Glen set his bag down, he glanced around at the equipment before turning his focus back to you. “I’ve been trying to keep up with my workouts, but this next role has a lot of, uh... shirtless scenes.” He laughed lightly, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. “I want to lean out a bit more, just tighten everything up.”

You nodded, pulling up his customized workout plan on your tablet. “I’ve got just the thing for you. We’ll be focusing on toning your core, arms, and legs—nothing too extreme, but enough to get you where you need to be before filming starts.”

Glen leaned over slightly to glance at the plan, nodding in approval. “Looks good. You’ve got me doing some heavy lifts, huh?”

You smiled, sensing his enthusiasm. “I do. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure to push you without burning you out.”

He chuckled, clearly ready to dive in, but before you moved toward the weights, you stopped him with a quick smile. “Before we get started, though, I need to take some baseline measurements.”

Glen raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Measurements?”

You nodded, setting the tablet down. “Yeah, just so I can document your progress over the next four weeks. It'll help us both see how far you’ve come when you’re a couple weeks in, especially if you’re aiming to get more toned.”

“Fair enough,” Glen said, stepping back as you grabbed a tape measure from your desk. “You’re the boss.”

He stood still, arms slightly raised as you started taking the first measurement around his chest. You worked quickly, not making it awkward, but there was no denying the closeness as you measured his biceps next.

“Okay, now your waist,” you said, dropping to one knee to wrap the tape measure around his torso.

Glen chuckled lightly, the sound relaxed. “This part’s always the most nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

You laughed softly in return. “It’s not that bad. Besides, you’re already in great shape. This is just to see how much progress you make in the next few weeks.”

“You say that now,” he joked, but the smile he flashed was playful, clearly at ease with the process.

After finishing his waist measurement, you stepped back and jotted down the numbers. “All set. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Glen shook his head, still smiling. “I’ve survived worse.”

“Well, I’ll be making sure to push you just enough to keep it interesting.” You gave him a grin as you set aside the tape measure and picked up your tablet again, ready to log the details. “Alright, now we’re ready. Let’s get started.”

As you both headed toward the weights area, you couldn’t help but notice the ease with which Glen navigated the gym. He wasn’t just a celebrity going through the motions—he was here to work. And something about his grounded, no-nonsense attitude put you at ease, too.

“So,” Glen said, stretching out his arms before reaching for a dumbbell, “how long have you been with Ultimate Performance?”

“About five years now. I started as an intern after getting my degree in sports science, then worked my way up. Now I’m doing personal training full-time.”

“Five years,” he said with a nod, looking impressed. “That’s awesome. I’ve only heard good things about this place.”

“Glad to hear it,” you replied, as you both moved through the warm-up. “And since we’re talking about that—Eddie warned me about your... tequila habits.”

Glen laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, yeah. Guilty. But I promise to keep it in check.”

“Good to know,” you said, smiling as you moved into the first set of exercises. “As long as you put in the work like Eddie says you do, I’ll let you have a cheat day here and there.”

His grin didn’t falter, but his focus shifted, now locked in as he began his first round of squats. You observed his form, making minor adjustments here and there, impressed by his natural athleticism.

It wasn’t long before the playful back-and-forth gave way to the steady rhythm of the workout, Glen pushing himself with the same dedication Eddie had spoken so highly of.

By the time you moved to the free weights, his shirt was damp with sweat, but he never complained or asked to slow down. Glen had a drive that reminded you why you loved working with serious clients—it wasn’t just about the physical change. It was the discipline, the effort, the focus. And Glen had all of that.

By the time you got to the final set of exercises, Glen was visibly feeling the burn. His breathing had picked up, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. You couldn't help but admire how hard he was working, despite the intensity.

As Glen set the weights down after his last set of deadlifts, he straightened up and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, flashing you a tired but amused smile. “You weren’t kidding about this workout plan. You sure you’re not taking it easy on me?”

You laughed softly, meeting his gaze. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he caught his breath. “Guess I can’t argue with that logic.” He placed his hands on his hips, still winded but clearly impressed. “I’ll be feeling this tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Probably,” you admitted with a grin. “But that just means you’re making progress. A little soreness is good—it’s how you know your muscles are working.”

“Good to know,” Glen replied with a smirk. “I’ll remind myself of that when I can’t walk tomorrow.”

You shook your head, amused by his playful banter. “You’ll be fine. We’ll take it day by day, and by the end of this, you’ll be in even better shape than you were before.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Better than before, huh?”

You shrugged confidently. “That’s the goal.”

Glen flashed you a grin, wiping down the equipment as he finished cooling down. “Alright then, Coach. I’ll trust you to get me there.”

* * * *

It was one of those weekends where you finally had a moment to breathe. You’d been pushing through long days at the gym, so a girls' night out was exactly what you needed. The bar was buzzing with energy—packed enough to feel lively but not too crowded. You sipped your drink, laughing with your friends as the music pulsed in the background.

A larger group walked in, but you barely glanced their way, too caught up in the conversation at your table. Washington D.C. was always filled with all types, so it wasn’t unusual for new faces to pass through. But after a while, you noticed your friends exchanging glances, their eyes darting toward the bar.

“What?” you asked, curious about what had captured their attention.

Your friend leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper as she nodded toward the bar. “Isn’t that...?”

You turned your head, following their gaze—and there he was. Glen Powell. Standing at the bar, his familiar smile in place as he chatted with the bartender. He looked effortlessly casual, wearing a simple grey t-shirt and dark jeans, blending in with the crowd in a way only someone like him could. He seemed completely relaxed, enjoying his night off with a group of friends or maybe coworkers, a drink in hand.

Your heart skipped for a moment, but you quickly dismissed the thought. He was a client, nothing more. It wasn’t unusual for him to be out, enjoying himself. You took a sip of your drink, willing yourself not to think too much about it.

But as the night went on, you found your drink dwindling, and you knew you’d need a refill soon. “I’m gonna grab another drink,” you said to your friends, sliding out of the booth.

As you approached the bar, you felt the press of the crowd around you. You waved at the bartender, but before you could place your order, you heard a voice behind you.

“Should I be worried about my trainer drinking on a weekend?”

You turned, and there was Glen, standing beside you with a teasing smile. His eyes were bright with amusement, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a grin that you couldn’t help but mirror.

You raised your glass in a playful toast. “I’m off-duty,” you said with a smirk. “Besides, I’m not the one who needs to watch their tequila intake, remember?”

Glen laughed, leaning slightly closer as if the conversation was just between the two of you. “You caught me.” He glanced at the glass in his hand and then back at you. “I’ll take it easy. Don’t want you to give me a lecture at the gym on Monday.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“Nah,” he replied, his voice warm. “But you don’t go easy on me, that’s for sure.” He glanced down at your glass. “Looks like you’re due for a refill though. Mind if I grab that one for you?”

It was an offer so casual, so easy, that for a second you almost forgot the circumstances—he was your client, after all. But his tone was friendly, his expression open and relaxed, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Only if it’s not tequila,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him with a playful grin.

He laughed again, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Deal. I’ll stick to something that won’t get me in trouble with my trainer.”

You smiled, and before you could even protest, Glen signaled the bartender. “Another for her, and I’ll take one too,” he said, his voice smooth but casual, as though he wasn’t really paying for your drink but just sharing in a moment.

The bartender moved efficiently, and within seconds, two fresh glasses were placed in front of you. You picked up yours, the coolness of the glass meeting your hand as you glanced up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, that easy grin still in place. “I figured it might soften the blow when you destroy me in the gym next week.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, so you’re buttering me up now?”

“Is it working?”

The way he said it, with just the right mix of playfulness and charm, had you smiling despite yourself. He wasn’t being pushy, wasn’t crossing any lines—just having fun with the moment.

You took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid refreshing after the heat of the crowded bar. “I’m still going to push you hard on Monday, just so you know.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering just enough to feel like a secret between the two of you. “Taking it easy doesn’t get results, right?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his words, recognizing your own mantra being thrown back at you. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the noise of the bar seemed to fade into the background as you stood there with Glen, the conversation flowing easily, as if you were just two people sharing a drink rather than client and trainer.

“So, is this your usual spot?” Glen asked, leaning an elbow on the bar as he turned his full attention to you.

“Not really,” you admitted. “It’s more of an impromptu girls' night kind of thing. What about you? Out with friends?”

“Yeah, wrapping up a long week of filming,” he said, motioning toward the group in the back. “Figured we’d blow off some steam before the craziness starts up again next week.”

You nodded, understanding. “Well, you deserve it. Just don’t go overboard. I don’t want to have to kick your ass on Monday for drinking too much.”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ll try to keep it under control, but no promises.”

“Noted,” you said with a smirk, the comfortable rhythm of the conversation settling between you both. There was something almost effortless about it—just enough teasing to keep it fun, but not too much to cross the line into anything more than friendly banter.

Still, as you stood there at the bar with Glen, the energy around you shifting just slightly, it was hard to ignore the way your heart raced just a little faster. You quickly pushed the thought away. He was your client, after all. This was just a chance encounter on a Saturday night—nothing more.

“Anyway,” Glen said after a moment, glancing at your now-refilled drink, “I better get back to the group. But don’t worry, I’ll be ready for whatever workout you throw at me on Monday.”

You raised your glass in a lighthearted toast. “You’d better be.”

With a final smile, Glen gave you a nod and made his way back to his friends, leaving you standing at the bar, a faint smile lingering on your lips as you watched him walk away.

You made your way back to the booth where your friends were sitting, trying to act like your quick conversation at the bar hadn’t just sent a small thrill through your chest. As soon as you sat down, though, you realized there was no hiding anything from them. Their eyes were all wide, gleaming with curiosity, and they immediately leaned in.

“Okay, spill,” one of your friends demanded, barely able to contain her excitement. “What was that?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “What do you mean?”

Another friend nudged your arm playfully. “Don’t act like you don’t know! That was Glen Powell, wasn’t it?”

You blinked, then gave a slow nod, not quite ready for the tidal wave of questions that was sure to follow. “Yeah… that was Glen.”

Their jaws practically dropped in unison.

“Oh my God,” One of them breathed. “You’re telling me you’ve been casually talking to Glen Powell at the bar this whole time you’ve been gone?”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you replied quickly, trying to wave off the moment as you took a sip of your drink. “We just ran into each other, that’s all.”

One of their eyes narrowed as she leaned in even closer. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you mention a ‘high-profile client’ a couple of weeks ago? Are you telling me Glen Powell is the guy you’ve been working with at the gym?”

You sighed, knowing there was no getting around it now. “Okay, yes. I’ve been working with him for a couple of weeks. But seriously, it’s nothing. Just professional.”

Their eyes nearly bulged out of their heads as they processed that revelation.

“He’s your client?” One of them echoed in disbelief. “How did you not tell us it was him?”

You gave a half-shrug, trying to play it cool. “I mean, I couldn’t exactly name-drop him. It’s a work thing, you know? Confidentiality and all that.”

“Oh, please,” one of them said with a wave of her hand. “You’re too modest. Glen Powell is out there starring in movies, and you’ve been working with him to get him in shape? That’s insane.”

“It’s really not that crazy,” you insisted, feeling your cheeks warm under their eager stares. “He’s just another client.”

“Just another client?” Another one repeated incredulously. “I’m sorry, but you can’t tell me that conversation at the bar wasn’t flirty. He was totally into you.”

You laughed, shaking your head again. “It wasn’t flirting. We were just joking around. If anything, I was warning him about his workout on Monday after all that tequila he’s probably going to drink tonight.”

One of your friends leaned back with a knowing smile. “Oh, come on. He totally offered to buy your drink, didn’t he?”

You hesitated for a moment, then gave a sheepish nod. “Yeah… he did. But it wasn’t a big deal! He was just being nice.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Nice? Or maybe a little flirty?”

You sighed, trying to downplay it. “It wasn’t like that. He was just joking around. Honestly, we talked more about his workout plan than anything else.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, her tone teasing. “I’m sure it was all about the workout plan.”

You could feel their eyes on you, the playful smiles they exchanged as they leaned in with the kind of curiosity only good friends could get away with.

“Seriously,” you insisted, though your grin betrayed you. “He’s a client. It’s not like that.”

Your friends weren’t convinced. “Well, it sure looked like something to me. The way he was talking to you at the bar? He didn’t look like he was thinking about squats and deadlifts, that’s for sure.”

Another one chimed in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yeah, and that whole ‘watch your tequila intake’ thing? That was prime trainer-to-client flirting material.”

You laughed again, leaning back in your seat as the teasing continued. “It wasn’t flirting,” you repeated, though their playful accusations were starting to wear down your defenses.

“Right,” one of the girls said with a wink. “Well, even if it wasn’t, he clearly likes talking to you. So maybe that’s a sign of something.”

One of the others nodded, her expression turning a bit more serious. “Hey, we’re just saying—if something does happen, you have our full support.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of their friendship settle around you. “Thanks, but really, it’s all professional. I’m not looking for anything more.”

One of the girls raised her glass in a toast. “To keeping it professional… but maybe hoping for a little fun along the way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you clinked glasses with her. “I’ll drink to that.”

As you took a sip, though, your thoughts wandered back to the easy conversation you’d had with Glen at the bar. Sure, it was just work—just a client interaction—but there had been something undeniably lighthearted, something that had left you smiling long after he’d walked away.

As the night went on, you found yourself stealing glances at Glen from your spot at the booth, the laughter of your friends fading into the background. You couldn’t help but notice the easy charm he exuded, even as he joked with his friends at the bar. It was hard not to smile every time you thought about your previous conversations. The playful banter between you two had definitely sparked something beyond a simple trainer-client dynamic.

After a while, you decided to venture back to the bar for another drink, this time determined to keep the mood light. As you approached, Glen noticed you immediately, his face breaking into a grin.

“Hey! Look who it is,” he called out, leaning against the bar with a casual confidence. “Back for another?”

You chuckled, leaning against the bar beside him. “What can I say? You have to stay hydrated, right?”

He laughed a warm sound that made you feel more at ease. “True. So, what’s your game plan for the weekend?”

“Honestly? Just a girls' night tonight. You know, drinks, gossip—typical stuff,” you said, your gaze lingering on him as you took a sip of your drink.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds fun. Any exciting plans with the girls?”

You shrugged. “Nothing too crazy. Just catching up. What about you? Any plans for the weekend?”

Glen leaned closer, lowering his voice slightly. “I was thinking of having a quiet night, maybe get some takeout on the way home. But who knows? My plans could change.”

You smirked, noticing the suggestive undertone in his words. “Oh? What kind of changes do you have in mind?”

He met your gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Well, I could be convinced to do something more… interesting if the right company showed up.”

You felt a warmth spread through you, caught off guard by the implication behind his words. “Interesting? Like what?”

“Maybe a movie night? You know, two people just relaxing and enjoying some downtime,” he suggested, his tone playful yet serious.

“Sounds tempting,” you replied, your heart racing a little faster at the thought. “What kind of movies do you like?”

“Rom-coms, obviously,” he said with a wink. “I’m an actor, after all. Gotta stay on brand.”

You laughed, but then the conversation shifted. “So… any significant others I should know about?” you asked, genuinely curious.

He shook his head, his expression turning thoughtful. “Nope, just me. I’ve been focusing on work mostly.”

“Same here,” you admitted. “I’m single, too. Just haven’t had the time to meet anyone.”

“Funny how that works,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you. “Two busy people, both single.”

There was a charged silence between you as you both processed the moment, the playful tension hanging in the air. Glen shifted slightly closer, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. “You know, it’s refreshing to meet someone who gets it. Not many people can understand the kind of schedule I keep.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “Yeah, I'm sure it can be tough.”

“Maybe we should change that,” he suggested, his voice lower now. “Have some more ‘interesting’ nights.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart racing at the unspoken invitation. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Just then, as the night began to wind down, you glanced at your phone to check the time. “Wow, it’s getting late. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

“Yeah, it sneaks up on you,” he said, glancing around. “Are you getting an Uber home?”

You nodded, a hint of reluctance creeping in. “Yeah, I should probably call one.”

Glen frowned slightly, then offered, “Let me give you a ride home. I don’t want you waiting out here for an Uber.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. It was tempting, but you couldn’t shake the professional boundaries. “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”

“Not at all,” he insisted, his smile warm and inviting. “I insist. Plus, it’ll give us more time to chat. And, you know, I can promise not to make you do any burpees in the car.”

You laughed, the tension from earlier dissipating. “Okay, if you insist.”

As you both walked outside, the warm spring air wrapped around you. Glen kept the conversation light as you walked to his car, and you found yourself enjoying his company even more. Once you were inside, he turned to you, the playful atmosphere returning.

“So, how bad my pis my punishment going to be on Monday for the drinks I had tonight?” He asked, his gaze locking onto yours.

You smirked, leaning in a little closer. “I might just add some extra reps to your routine.”

His smile widened, and suddenly the air felt charged again. You could feel the intensity building between you, the chemistry undeniable.

“Bring it on,” he replied, his voice dropping lower. “I can handle it.”

And before you knew it, the space between you disappeared. Glen leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet electrifying kiss.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you realized you’d crossed a line, but it felt exhilarating. You were no longer just trainer and client; you were something else entirely.

“Wow,” you breathed, your heart racing.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Wow, indeed.”

As Glen pulled out of the bar's parking lot, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in your stomach. The city lights blurred past the windows, and you glanced over at him, catching his eyes focused on the road, a slight smile playing on his lips.

When you arrived at your apartment, you hesitated for just a moment before inviting him in. “Do you want to come in? I mean, if you’re still up for that movie?”

“I’d love to,” he replied, stepping out of the car and following you inside.

Once inside, you hung up your coats and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch. You headed to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of drinks before settling next to him. Glen watched you with that familiar warmth in his gaze, and it made your heart flutter.

“Okay, I’ll let you pick the movie,” you said, scrolling through your options.

“Let’s go classic,” he suggested, pointing at How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. “This one is always a good time.”

You chuckled. “Good choice. It’s one of my favorites.”

As the movie started, you both settled into the couch, the initial awkwardness fading into the cozy atmosphere. Glen’s arm rested casually on the back of the couch, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, enjoying the easy banter that flowed between you.

About halfway through the film, you felt his arm move, sliding down to your shoulder as he gently pulled you into his side. A warmth spread through you at the gesture, and you smiled, leaning into him comfortably.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking down at you with those charming eyes.

You nodded, unable to suppress your grin. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“Good,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I am,” you replied softly, feeling the connection between you deepening. You could feel his heartbeat against you, steady and reassuring, and the atmosphere felt charged with a sweet kind of intimacy.

As the movie continued, you caught yourself glancing up at him, noticing how he focused intently on the screen, yet you could sense he was aware of you too. Every so often, your shoulders brushed, sending little sparks of electricity between you.

“Have you seen this before?” he asked, his gaze still on the movie.

“A million times,” you laughed. “It’s one of those movies I can watch on repeat and never get tired of.”

He smiled, looking down at you. “It’s one of my favorites too…Kind of like the person watching it.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment, a light flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach. “You’re smooth, aren’t you?”

“Only when the situation calls for it,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

The film played on, but the focus began to shift more towards each other. You felt the tension build in the small moments, the lingering touches, and the way his gaze lingered on you. It was as if the lines between work and pleasure had blurred completely, and you were both caught up in something new and thrilling.

With the credits rolling, Glen turned to you, the air between you electric. “So, what do you think? Think I can pull off this upcoming Rom-Com role after watching one?”

You laughed, your heart racing. “I think you’ve got the charm down already. Just maybe don’t take any advice from this movie for your actual dating life.”

“Noted,” he replied, his voice dropping slightly. “You know maybe I need a few more rom-com movie nights to fully prepare for this role.”

“I might know someone who could help you with that,” you said, your pulse quickening as you realized how much you wanted to spend more time with him.

He leaned in slightly, his expression softening. “You know, I really enjoy spending time with you outside the gym.”

“Me too,” you admitted, the vulnerability of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Before you could think it through, you leaned in closer, feeling the magnetic pull between you. And just like that, he was closing the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tentative kiss.

It felt like the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment. When you pulled away, breathless, you realized this was more than just a client relationship; it was the start of something new, something exciting.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction

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heesdreamer · 2 years ago

Text

give it time

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ being jakes twin sister, your reputation followed you around wherever you went. add on the fact you were a known man eating playgirl with a thing for nerds and you were heeseung’s worst nightmare

GENRE ➩ playgirl!au x inexperienced!hee

WARNINGS ➩ sexual scenes (no full smut sorry guys) and light slut shaming

WC. ➩ 14.03k

DISCLAIMER ➩ i don’t feel like i got to explore these characters enough so fyi im opened to one shot request or small drabbles for these two! feel free to send an ask if ur interested in a scene

Despite the common perception of you, you were not a complete and total monster.

Sure, the rumors were true in some aspects but in most cases things were warped and twisted as they danced from mouth to mouth and you were left with a bit of a startling reputation.

You leave too many freshman boys crying and suddenly you are the devil disguised in a perfectly polished and manicured body, girlish scents and cheeky smiles being used to lure your victims in to their death.

Frankly you thought this was all way too dramatized. You liked to play around, who didn’t, and it wasn’t your fault you had a very particular taste when it came to your boys. Death was dramatic, if anything their social meters skyrocketed after being seen with you.

“It’s immoral.” Your best friend was currently giving you his opposing opinion. Sunoo was laid across your bed and watching you carefully reapply your lipgloss in the large mirror on your desk. “Maybe even a little bit sick.”

You laughed at him, turning to face him fully and strike a pose. He gave a thumbs up at your outfit and smiled at you despite his scoldings.

Sunoo had been your friend for as long as you’d known what the word meant. He was a year younger than you but decades more mature and when you both started to change drastically, you still remained friends.

Most of the version of yourself you showed outside of this room was a carefully poised character, a show of beauty and confidence to ensure you weren’t belittled and were taken seriously in all aspects of life. Yet here, alone with Sunoo as you got ready for another Saturday night party, you were your rawest self.

“I can’t help what I like.” You continued on your conversation now that he’s approved your attire.

And you meant this from the bottom of your soul. You’ve tried to fall for other guys, tried to stare length at the football players and hope it stirred something awake in you and you could fulfill another cliche when it came to high school norms.

Yet it was earlier on in your years of puberty when you discovered your type, and oh god was it a discovery.

Park Sunghoon had stumbled off the summer camp bus behind a few girls you’d recognized from previous years. He was clutching his backpack strap with one hand and pushing his glasses up his nose with the other. To make matters worse (or better, depending on who you’re asking) he had tripped coming down the steps and nearly face planted in the dirt below him.

For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly inlove. Or at least as inlove a sniffly 14 year old can be.

You’d had your first kiss that summer, hidden behind a bush on the final nights huge campfire and you blushed thinking about how Sunghoon’s hands were shaking and his eyes were wide when you pulled away.

That was the exact thing you’d gotten obsessed with. You never saw Sunghoon again, not at summer camp or anywhere around the city, but you constantly searched for him in other boys. You liked the awkwardness and shy glances and you liked the way you could almost see the corrupted thoughts in their mind after a few weeks with you.

Other people your age gushed over the charmers, the boys at parties who leaned against the wall and asked you to slip away into an uncleaned room. Sunoo sharing the same ideology considering the way he constantly fawned over somebody on the soccer team.

Which is why you didn’t get angry at him for his scolding, for his lack of understanding. It was an art form and not everybody could appreciate it.

“Y/N, kid. I told you I’m not waiting all night for you.” Deafening pounds on your door strictly reminded you of that fact.

You swung open your door with a scowl, ignoring the way Sunoo mumbled about his hatred for the nickname kid, and came face to face with your brother.

Jake was exactly two minutes older than you and spent your entire lives magnifying this fact at any given moment. His eyes scanned your outfits before looking behind you to Sunoo’s and he sighed softly.

“So we are going complete ‘embarrass my big brother’ tonight I guess.” His words caused you to roll your eyes and push on his shoulder so you could move past him out into the hallway.

Jake and you got along great despite your differences, something about the twin connection helping you be a lot closer than you might have been else wise considering everything else about you was completely flipped.

He was the star of your family in all things that truly seemed to matter to your parents, handsome and sociable and not to mention the captain of the football team.

“You’re not my big brother.” You mumbled as you passed him and he smiled at you and messed up your hair. You paused and waited for Sunoo at the top of the stairs, raising an eyebrow at the fact Jake was watching you with a strange expression.

“My friends are downstairs.” He started to explain and you furrowed your brows in confusion. When you’d first become cool enough to hang out with Jake’s friends, he had warned them and you about the consequences of dating each other, but he gradually realized they were absolutely not your type.

You imagined he still had to deal with comments, you were well known at school and undeniably conventionally attractive, plus Park Jay had definitely made numerous passes at you throughout the years.

“I’d rather jump down these stairs than fuck one of your friends Jake.” His mouth curled in disgust at your blunt words and you saw Sunoo laugh as he approached the two of you, closing your bedroom door.

“There’s a new kid on the team and I know how you are.” He was whispering but his tone was stern and you shook your head at him in annoyance.

“I’m not interested in jocks brother, I feel like we’ve been over this. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“The Sim’s! Looking fantastic as usual.” Jay’s voice floating up the stairs caused the three of you to turn in it’s direction and you immediately froze as you took in the other boys standing in your living room. You heard Jake sigh at your reaction and start to make his way down the stairs.

Standing amidst the usual crowd, Jay (your brothers absolute bestfriend of all time), Jungwon and Riki (two younger boys on the football team), was a boy you’d never seen before.

“Oh wow. This isn’t good.” Sunoo was whispering over your shoulder with a half smile as he followed your line of vision, patting you on the back and starting his way down the stairs after your brother.

The boy was a complete stand out amidst the others and their casual stances. They were dressed dark and sleek, eyes lazy and relaxed like there was nothing that could surprise them about how tonight would play out and by experience, you knew this to be true.

He was standing stiff as a board and ringing his hands uncomfortably, looking around your living room anxiously as he tried to take in the unfamiliar setting. You briefly mentally scolded the boys for letting him wear a sweater to a highschool party and then immediately thanked them for the same fact.

You were down the stairs and stood infront of him before he even processed you approaching and his eyes widened with surprise as he took a startled step back. Your hand was dangling in the middle of the both of you and he awkwardly took it in his.

“I’m Y/N Sim.” You practically purred at him and you vaguely heard Jay bark a laugh from a few feet behind you. The boys eyes darted over to your brother and his friends and then back at you with a curious expression.

“Heeseung.” His voice was quiet and unsure and you raised an eyebrow, keeping his hand in yours for longer than necessary. “Lee Heeseung.”

You repeated his name back to him with a smile, letting it roll off your tongue as you pushed some of your hair behind your ear. Normally by now you’d start to see the signs of infatuation, eyes darting down to your chest and breath catching when you leaned into their personal space.

Heeseung wasn’t doing either, in fact he just seemed more and more awkward and impatient as the seconds droned on. Your mouth twitched down in a shocked frown and you released your grip on his hand, watching as Jake wrapped an arm around his shoulder and ushered him away from you.

Your brother shot you a teasing smile over his shoulder, like he was mocking you for failing to catch his friends attention.

“Don’t look so gloomy sweetheart.” Jay’s voice was in your ear as you started walking to the car. “You’re going to eat him alive.”

——

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the boy.

He definitely had noticed your staring, awkwardly hovering in the corner of the party holding a completely full cup he’d been taking fake sips out of. Your brother had stuck with him for most of it before being dragged away by some other boys on the team for a game of cup pong.

You remembered the fact that Heeseung was supposedly on the football team too and you were suddenly curious what exactly he did. Maybe your brother had only mentioned it in an attempt to deter your advances.

He’d be disappointed to know it didn’t work, considering you were pushing off your seat at the kitchen counter and making your way to his side of the room.

When you were a few feet infront of him he seemed to realize you weren’t changing your course of movement and were in fact coming straight for him. He stiffened up against the wall and avoided looking at you.

“Hi Hee.” You ignored his behavior, leaning against the wall on your side so you could still look at him. You liked the slope of his nose and the way he nervously glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Hey Y/N.” He tried to sound casual but his voice cracked halfway through saying your name and your smile brightened, leaning forward slightly so your mouth was hovering closer to his ear.

“Not having fun?” You leaned back after you spoke, noting the way he held his breath when you got closer and shifted in his stance once you leaned back against the wall.

He shrugged softly and you watched the way his thin shoulders fell back down. He definitely wasn’t small, towering over you and about double your width but he was lean and pretty, not to mention the way he curled in on himself made him seem tiny.

“I know something fun we can do.” You were leaning back towards him, this time letting your hand fall forward to hold his arm. The innuendo didn’t miss him and his wide eyes shot down to where you were touching him and then back to look at you.

“Jake said to not talk to you.” He was suddenly stuttering out but he didn’t make any move to leave or remove your hand from him. “He said if you said you liked me it wasn’t true.”

Your jaw ticked in anger as he spoke, wanting to go find Jake and teach him a lesson about interfering. But Heeseung was peering down at you with those big glossy eyes and he didn’t seem upset, just curious.

“That’s not very nice of him to say, is it?” You were practically cooing at the boy, lips forming a pout like it was the most hurtful thing you’d ever heard.

It worked considering the fact Heeseung immediately shook his head, eyes even more wide like he was worried he had somehow offended you.

Your hand that wasn’t on his arm slowly slid up to his neck, stopping to hold his face and turn him more so he was facing you and you weren’t staring at the side of him. He really was handsome, strong manly features sat nicely below his large eyes.

“Do you think I’m mean Hee?” You decided to use Jake’s words against him, batting your eyelashes with a pout and leaning against him. You felt a flash of satisfaction at the way his eyes went down to your jutted out lip and back up.

He didn’t reply after you said that and you briefly wondered if you pushed him too far for one night. You didn’t mind stretching it out, one time spending weeks with a boring tutor before he even seemed to realize you had boobs, but something about the way he peered down at you made you impatient.

He didn’t respond but he also, once again, made no move to push you off of him. If anything he seemed short of breath the longer you stood there pressed against him with your thumb on his chin.

You let out a small hum of satisfaction and pressed your thumb upwards against his bottom lip, holding it there for a second to see if he would object. He didn’t despite the way his eyes seemed to grow wider and wider every passing second.

His mouth parted and at first you thought he was going to speak, pausing and raising an eyebrow to make sure he wasn’t about to tell you to stop touching him. He looked suddenly mortified and closed his mouth with a snap, causing you to realize he was referring to your thumb pressing against his lip.

“Oh.” He genuinely shocked you, your confidence faltering for a second at the fact he was basically inviting your thumb into his mouth a second ago when you’d barely spoken to each other.

He was bright red and you had a feeling that if your grip on his chin wasn’t so tight, he would’ve disappeared into the crowd to avoid you.

“Sorry.” He was mumbling, voice so quiet you almost missed it beneath the loud music and stacked piles of random conversations.

“Do you want to go somewhere we can hear each other better?” You tried to keep the implication out of your words but you had a feeling you were oozing with sin and intent as you leaned up to speak against his ear.

Still, he was nodding almost like he was on autopilot and seemingly ready to go with you regardless of where you would take him. And that was music to your ears, excitement and tension causing you to smile before tugging him and turning around to leave the party.

You were immediately stopped in your path, your smile dropping into a scowl as you looked at your brother. He was stood infront of you with his arms crossed, Jay and Sunoo’s amused faces peeking over his shoulder at the thought of conflict.

“Excuse us.” You spat at him, tugging Heeseung again. He’d complete froze at the sight of your brother and only seemed to snap out of it at your pull, yanking his hand from yours as he collided with your back.

You stumbled forward and glared behind you at him, confused why he had let go of your hand. He was bright red again and avoiding looking at you, taking a step to the side so he was more on your brothers half of the stand off.

Jake had a satisfied smirk on his face at his obedience and you scoffed at them both, disgusted and angry eyes directed towards Heeseung who was cowering away from your glare.

“Alright.” Sunoo was dragging the word out, pushing past your brothers rigid frame and wrapping his arms around you. “Think it’s time we go.”

You let him steer you away from the boys, sending one last glare at your brothers victorious face. You felt a little fire light up in your stomach with the knowledge he was going to regret it.

——

“What about that junior in your art class. He’s easy on the eyes.” Sunoo was trying to keep your attention while in the lunch room, despite the knowledge most of his words were falling on deaf ears. “And not your brothers friend.”

That caught your attention slightly and you stopped your staring for a second, glancing at your friend before looking back across the hall where Heeseung was sat with the rest of the football idiots.

“If you’re going to tell me it’s immoral again, save your breath.” You half muttered and you heard him sigh softly from beside you.

He started to talk again but this time you truly didn’t hear him because Heeseung was looking around the room for a second before locking eyes with you. You sat up in your seat as you watched him freeze and look around to see if there was anyone else you could possibly be staring at.

When he seemed to determine he was the source of your attention, he awkwardly looked back at you and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You cocked your head but didn’t do anything else, still slightly hurt from the night before.

“Earth to my supposed best friend.” Sunoo’s annoyed voice and shove against your shoulder caused you to break the staring contest with the boy, looking at him apologetically. “It’s fine, we can talk later. But your boy toys leaving.”

His eyes were falling over your shoulder with a quirked eyebrow, following Heeseung’s frame as he quickly shuffled out of the cafeteria and through the hallway doors. You looked frantically at Sunoo for permission and he waved you off with a dismissive hand.

You were on your feet and rushing towards the direction Heeseung had went before you could thank him, causing a few heads to turn towards you as you whipped past them.

Once you pushed through the large doors, you slowed your pace and flattened your skirt, attempting to look casual. You pulled your hair prettily in-front of your shoulders and peered around the hallway corners, trying to catch sight of which way Heeseung had gone.

It didn’t take very long before you were faltering in your tracks, seeing him standing against a closed locker and seemingly catching his breath.

“Hee?” You were standing a few feet away from him, leaning forward and cocking your head in a fake display of coincidence. “What are you doing out here?”

He glanced up at you with an unreadable expression. At first you thought he looked annoyed to see you but you realized quickly he was more so embarrassed at you catching him in a state of panic.

He raised his shoulders in a shrug again and you took a step closer, taking in his outfit now that he wasn’t hidden behind a lunch table. He was wearing another sweater, this one had a large V neck that he covered up with a plaid button up underneath it. You wondered briefly if he was hot at all underneath the layers.

“You shrug a lot don’t you.” As you spoke you casually approached him, leaning on the wall next the locker he was stood against.

He looked like he wanted to laugh at your words, mouth quirking for a bit before looking at you in a similar position to the previous night and frowning, eyes flashing with guilt and embarrassment again.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head as he whispered and you quirked an eyebrow at his sudden mood change.

“For what part?” Beneath the urge to tease him and make him say it directly, you were genuinely curious what about last night he was apologizing for. For leaving you when your brother arrived or was he sorry for your little interaction a few seconds before that.

He looked at you with a sigh and an awkward shuffle in place, giving you your answer. He was too shy to voice it out loud and that led you to believe it was the latter he was attempting to apologize for.

“You’re sorry for that?” You frowned at him as you leaned closer again. He was watching you intensely, still standing awkwardly but seemingly expecting your actions more this time. “For wanting my fingers in your mouth?”

He was sucking in a breath at your blunt words, eyes going wide as he pressed himself against the locker like he wanted it to swallow him whole. You didn’t say anything else, you’d tipped far more than a toe in the waters and you may be a man eater but the last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable.

“Don’t say that.” He was rushing out in a hissed whisper and looking around the empty hallway like somebody could be listening.

“Is that not what you wanted?” Your voice was dropping to a purr again and you could see him swallow the lump in his throat as your hand came to rest against his chest.

You wanted to touch him, desperately strangely enough, but more importantly you wanted to feel how fast his heart was racing and it didn’t disappoint. It was beating so fast you almost found it in yourself to be concerned.

A large part of you wanted to push him further, to make him tell you what he wanted so you could get to the fun part already, but a new part of you was liking toying around with him.

You found yourself curious what he was thinking as he blinked down at you, if he was thinking dirty things about you or if he wasn’t quite sure what that even consisted of. Was he just sweet and awkward or was he truly inexperienced.

Even weirder, you were wondering what you looked like to him. Both in the bodily sense, if he found you pretty or alluring, and in the sense in which he considered you to be a flirt or a whore.

You didn’t mind being a whore, you thought it was a beautiful powerful thing for a woman to be, but for some strange reason you didn’t want Heeseung to think that’s what this was.

Jay was right, you absolutely wanted to eat him alive but maybe you didn’t have to spit this one out after.

“I don’t know why I did that.” His whisper almost passed by you while you were stuck in your thoughts. You could feel his chest rise as he spoke and you liked the feeling, pressing your front against his similarly to how you did at the party.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” You assured him, studying his features as he looked down at you. Your hand was leaving his chest to cup his cheek then and he took in a deep stuttering breath.

You let your thumb caress the skin on his cheek and he kept his eyes locked on yours despite the way they nervously twitched and sometimes shot over your shoulder like he was expecting an interruption.

“It’s weird.” He whispered and his breath fanned your face due to your proximity.

You frowned slightly at his words, although you had a feeling he didn’t truly mean them and he was just doing damage control incase you’d make fun of him. Still, you thought for a second before blindly reaching down between your bodies and gripping his wrist.

He made a strange startled noise at the direction of your hand, flushing when he realized you were only searching for his hand and not anything else. He didn’t object as you brought his limp hand up, only tensing slightly as you placed it on your cheek.

You didn’t say anything, waiting for a few seconds to see if he would take the hint on his own before sighing and moving his thumb with your hand that was covering his and placing it against your bottom lip.

He looked almost entranced at the movement, mouth parting in surprise as he felt your lip against his thumb. Then it was your turn to be surprised when he mirrored your movement from the other night and pressed down on it, almost instinctively.

Having startled himself, he started to pull his hand away but luckily you were still holding it in place against your cheek. Before he could make another move to remove it, you were parting your lips and pulling his thumb into your mouth.

He made another loud noise, a half shout nearly at the wet sensation on his digit and you would have laughed if you weren’t certain it would embarrass him to a point of no return.

You watched his reactions through your eyelashes as your hand moved to his wrist, feeling the bone and muscle twitch as you kept his hand in place. He didn’t say anything, watching you as you closed your lips around his thumb and held it there.

He met your eyes for just a second, immediately shooting back down to look where his thumb disappeared when he felt your tongue wrap around it in slow soothing circles.

The hall was silent outside of his heavy breaths and a low sucking sound as you pulled his wrist back and forth slowly so his thumb continued its movements in and out of your mouth. He was standing so stiff that you considered, for a moment, pulling back and asking him if this was okay.

Then he took a deep inhale and pressed his thumb flat against your tongue, causing your breath to catch in your throat with a slight choke. You faintly thought you heard him groan at the noise and you squeezed your hand that was around his wrist.

This seemed to snap him back to reality, eyes bulging as his movements froze completely. You kept your eyes on him even after he pulled his thumb from your mouth, avoiding eye contact with you as soft pants slipped from your lips.

“Do you still think it’s weird?”

——

A day or two passed without you seeing Heeseung, or more accurately without any firm interaction considering he darted away every time you rounded a corner.

This time you weren’t hurt by his avoidance, the hard part was finished and the seed of sin was blossoming in his pretty head. Now all you needed to do was wait for him to come crawling to your door, asking for more, and you’d finally have him.

You didn’t expect it so literally however. The soft knocks on your door after you’d just gotten home from school made you groan, expecting some form of real life spam mail or an annoyed neighbor, all the usuals. Instead your angry expression dropped off your face when you realized it was Heeseung behind the door.

He faltered at the sight of you, almost like he’d forgotten you lived here too. His expression was pained and you almost laughed at the way his eyes instinctively dropped to your mouth.

“Well hi.” You smiled at him and pushed your hip out to lean in the doorway, suddenly aware of the fact you were wearing little duck shorts from middle school. You don’t think he noticed, avoiding looking at your bare legs with all his might.

“Is Jake here?” He was mumbling, looking over your shoulder like he was hoping your brother would come and save him.

“I’m beginning to think I should be offended.” You were only half joking, a genuine disappointment building in your stomach. You’d never had a boy care so little about you, especially after you’d already made a move on him. “He’s at practice still, shouldn’t you know that?”

He didn’t say anything, staring at you for a while before blinking away and shuffling in place. You sighed and took a step to the side, signaling for him to come inside so he didn’t leave a dent in your porch.

He slowly and awkwardly came inside, pressing against the door to avoid touching any part of your body considering you were still perched against the doorway.

“It’s nice to see you.” You found yourself actually meaning this as you said it and nearly laughed at the way he whipped around to look at you in surprise. You’re not sure if he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him in general or just not expecting you to be in a good mood.

“What?” He spoke before he even realized he was and looked down at his shoes.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and walked closer to him, noting the way he tensed and followed your frame. You moved past him to sit on the couch, patting the spot next to you and smiling. “I missed you.”

He slowly sat next to you, hesitating at the close proximity. Once he was sat, stiff and nervous, you scooted closer so your thighs were pressed together. If he didn’t notice your shorts before, he definitely did now judging by the way his eyes bulged and his hands twitched.

“You don’t know me.” He was shaking his head and you smiled slightly at the fact he was atleast comfortable enough to argue something you’d said.

“I think you’re cute.” You shrugged like it was obvious, watching the side of his face as he avoided looking in your direction. You were sat so close that if he looked at you, you’d probably be touching noses. “And I like your eyes.”

He glanced at you for a second, slight amusement on his face at your surface level answer. If he hadn’t figured out what you wanted by now, he slowly was. You watched as his hand twitched again.

“You want to touch me.” It was more of a statement than a question, shifting in your spot slightly. He didn’t say anything for a while eyes on your leg and you waited patiently, holding your breath so you didn’t scare him off.

“I don’t know.” His voice was breathy and pained like he was dealing with an inner dilemma. For a second he looked so guilty that you wondered if he was possibly religious, lips quirking up at the thought.

“You can.” He made no move despite your urging, glancing at you from the corner of his eye before shaking his head. “Do you want me to help you?”

He didn’t respond again but the sharp breath he took helped you understand his answer, his mannerisms becoming easier and easier for you to read. He didn’t flinch when you grabbed his wrist again, letting you carry his hand over to your leg and encage it with your own once it was touching your warm skin.

“Okay?” You were whispering, leaning your top half against him so you could rest your head on his shoulder. You liked to feel the sharp inhales he was taking as his body rose and fell.

He nodded swiftly and you decided now that he was definitely a virgin, the way his hand flexed and shuddered at the feeling of just your skin, being the most obvious sign. Excitement was bubbling under your skin again and you could hear Sunoo’s voice calling you immoral.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You were turning your head on his shoulder to whisper against his neck and he made a startled noise at the feeling, hand tightening on your leg. You weren’t quite sure what prompted you to ask him that but you were suddenly desperate to hear his response.

He was nodding quickly for a second before actually responding, almost like he knew you wanted to hear him say it. “Yes. So pretty.”

You smiled and kissed the base of his neck in thanks, drinking in the small whimper like noise he made in response.

A minute or two passed in silence, you tightly pressed against him and listening to his sharp nervous breathing while he slowly relaxed his hand on your thigh, at some points being brave enough to gently caress your smooth skin with his thumb. You liked letting him explore, seeing how long it took for him to do the smallest things, but you were growing slightly impatient.

His hands were big, almost encasing the surface area of your leg and your hand looked extra small on top of his, slowly directing it upwards closer to the hem of your shorts. He met your gaze with a panicked look and you stopped in place for a few seconds, waiting for any sign of permission.

“Why are you doing this?” He was whispering as he turned to look you in your eyes, forehead nearly touching yours. He looked confused and pained and you almost felt a strange guilt as you looked at him.

��If you don’t want me to, I’ll stop.” You’d lost the purr in your voice, deadly serious as you spoke the most important words you could say to him. You were pushy and had a certain set of interests others might find disturbed, but you were absolutely not somebody who made others uncomfortable in a negative way.

“Are you just screwing with me?” He didn’t sound upset, just genuinely insecure and curious like he couldn’t understand why you would want him to be touching you.

You were pleased that despite being shy and not talking a lot, he wasn’t afraid to ask you things he found important. It reassured you that he would alert you if you pushed him too far, but you also were thrown off by his lack of self credit. Heeseung was definitely a dork and not the best in social situations, but he was stunning and sweet, not to mention large in size.

That small reminder caused you to glance down at his hand that was still on your leg, thumb just on the edge of hooking underneath your shorts. You pressed your legs together and looked back at him, noting the dark flash that passed in his eyes at the movement.

“I want you.” You spoke bluntly, not sure how else to reassure him the way he was searching for. You weren’t going to lie to him, you couldn’t sit here and tell this boy you wanted to date him and treat him good but you could definitely be honest with him and tell him why he was sat on your couch right now.

He looked at you in silence for a second like he was waiting for you to laugh or say something else, prove him right about his suspicions. When you kept your face firm and serious he sucked in a breath and nodded slowly, accepting that this was just something that was happening to him now.

You wondered for a second what type of place he’d lived before where girls didn’t find him attractive, suddenly very glad he was your brothers friend and you saw him before anybody else had the chance to corrupt his mind.

His hand was moving on it’s own now, a small burst of confidence at your blatant desire for him. He seemed unsure of his movements as his hand pushed up under the entrance to your small shorts, stopping and resting against your underwear clad hip, trapped between the two fabrics.

“Has anyone ever kissed you?” You were asking and he seemed confused that you chose to ask that instead of acknowledging him for touching you on his own. You smiled at that and noted for later use that he was searching for approval and praise.

He thought for a second and you wondered if he was considering whether or not to lie. Maybe he hadn’t caught on to your strict type yet and just figured you liked nerdy guys.

“Don’t lie to me. I don’t mind either way.” Your voice was suddenly firm at the command and then immediately softening in reassurance. It was truthfully too despite the fact you were most hopeful to him saying no.

He was shaking his head and you didn’t miss the way his eyes were stuck on your lips, hand flexing with impatience under your shorts.

“If I kiss you, you can’t ignore me anymore.” You whispered and he was nodding as you spoke. You were worried he was so eager for you to do something he wasn’t quite thinking before agreeing to things. And you meant what you said, if you kissed him it would be important to you.

“You can’t tell Jake.” He was suddenly saying and you almost laughed at the irony of him warning you not to tell your own brother, if anything it should be the other way around. You thought the fact he was seeking approval from the other boys was cute, despite it causing problems in your own desires.

He didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that you chuckled at him, frowning softly and trying to make his expression more serious. You liked the dazed out look on his face, almost like he was too drunk on touching you to think clearly. You couldn’t help yourself from surging forward and pressing your lips tightly against his.

He froze up, hand squeezing your leg now so tight it was almost painful. You didn’t expect him to know how to kiss you back but he still tried after he regained his composure, pushing his face forward into yours.

You pulled back quickly, pecking his lips three more times in small kisses in the process. Not wanting to overwhelm him, you leaned back slightly to study his expression. When his eyes fluttered back open he was looking at you with shock and excitement, not even noticing the way his hand was kneading your hip inside of your shorts.

You took a breath to prepare to ask him if that was okay when you were cut off by him leaning back into you and kissing you again.

Smiling against his lips, you brought your hands up to cup his face and try to guide him a little bit more so he wasn’t just pressing his lips against yours in a haste. Still you let him explore on his own for a bit, tilting your head back so he could push into you.

After 30 seconds of letting him get used to the feeling, you started to move your mouth against his in a smooth rhythm. He hummed, low and guttural, at the sensation of actually kissing you and in his eagerness to move forward and lean into you, his hand slipped and pressed itself directly over your core.

You both gasped into the kiss, for different reasons considering the fact he immediately lept away from you onto the other side of the couch and covered his mouth in panic and apology.

You were just opening your mouth to tell him it was alright, more than okay in your opinion, when the front door was swinging open. You immediately closed your lips in anger and frustration at the sight of your brother who was observing the situation with squinted eyes.

It definitely looked damning, your shorts were ridden up on your thigh and Heeseung was sat a few feet away panting and running a hand through his hair to try to flatten it down.

Jake gave you a knowing look, a sharp glare and your lips curled into a smirk as you shrugged at him.

——

It was a day or two later and you were stood in the center of your room, staring at yourself in the mirror and trying to decide which color bathing suit you wanted to wear.

The boys all planned to go to the beach today, one last warm weekend before the fall season started and they were jammed packed with peak football busyness. Luckily for you, despite your current silent war you were having, Jake had extended the invitation to you and Sunoo too.

“The pinks way better.” Speaking of Sunoo, he was in his usual position that he adorned anytime you were getting dressed before heading out. Laying on his stomach with his feet in the air on your bed, watching you with a keen eye and sharp opinions.

You frowned at his comment, unsure and feeling slightly insecure. Trying not to think about how strange that was for you, you nodded in confirmation and pulled shorts and a hoodie over your suit for the ride there.

By the time you got to the car you were feeling pretty awful about the days direction, knowing yourself well enough to know something as small as not feeling pretty could ruin your mood completely. You tried to keep your energy light, planning to relax once you got there and not risk ruining anybody’s else day in collateral damage.

When the van door slid open, your eyes widened upon seeing Heeseung sat in your usual seat, his expression mirroring your own.

“Hope you don’t mind Y/N.” Riki was leaning forward from the backseat and smiling brightly at you. “Thought it would be cool to kidnap the new kid.”

You didn’t say anything, eyes sliding back over to Heeseung who was looking at you with heavy awkwardness but not avoiding your eye contact. You felt lighter at the knowledge he wasn’t taking what you had said about ignoring you lightly.

Climbing into the van and towards the back seat, you and Sunoo sat beside Riki and relaxed for the rest of the ride.

You liked being in the back like this, your position giving you the perfect view of Heeseung’s side profile. He kept glancing back at you throughout the drive, looking more and more surprised that your gaze never drifted from him.

You hadn’t spoken to him since kissing him, he had immediately stood from the couch with awkward posture and shuffled off in the direction Jake was leading him, not sparing you a glance.

You’d spent that night scrolling through his socials, atleast the ones that weren’t private, and wondering if you should message him or not. That thought didn’t last long, far too out of character for you and you’d already been accidentally doing that.

Heeseung didn’t need to know you were thinking about him before you went to sleep that night and he definitely didn’t need to know that you didn’t normally kiss the boys you played with.

After you’d gotten to the beach and all the boys had dog piled their way out of the van, you tugged your shorts down uncomfortably and followed behind them at a much slower pace. You liked observing them despite your bad mood, especially the playful laughs Sunoo let out as he joked around with them.

You were so caught up in your people watching that you didn’t notice Heeseung also lagging behind until he was walking side by side with you, keeping his distance but sparing you quick glances as you walked.

It surprised you that he both wasn’t ignoring you and that he was willingly being alone with you while your brother was only a few yards in front.

A strange satisfaction ran through you and you smiled in Heeseung’s direction, brightly when his ears and cheeks flushed bright red.

After the boys had set up the blankets and chairs, they ran off towards the water and you settled into one of the plastic seats. Jay was still stood near you, applying sunscreen diligently and squinting against the bright sun.

“You should let me put some on you.” He was saying once you took off your hoodie and you scoffed without looking at him. You didn’t mind Jay despite his flirting but you had no doubt his eyes were glued to your chest as he proposed applying the sunscreen to your bare skin.

“I’m serious.” He laughed at your reaction, knowing what you were thinking. “In a friendly way, I promise.”

You looked at him now from over your sunglasses, analyzing his expression as you felt the sun heat up your exposed skin.

“Fine.” You sighed and rolled over onto your stomach so he could have easier access to your back. “But you touch me inappropriately with your grubby hands and I’ll cut them off.”

“I bet your brother would first anyways.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, kneeling down on the sand next to you. You heard the cap of the bottle open as he squeezed a good amount into his hands and pressed them onto your skin. “Besides, I know you have your sights set on another suitor.”

You didn’t have to ask him what he was referring to, seeing no point in playing dumb. Both Jay and you knew a very large reason you’d never responded to his advances was because your specific type, and you also both knew who happened to fit that type perfectly.

“He’s cute.” You shrugged the best you could in your position and Jay pressed his thumb into your back, a light massage now as you talked.

“Sure, if you’re into that.” He chuckled softly and you smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “Not so cute with the way he’s glaring at me right now though.”

You sat up upon hearing that, resting on your elbows and looking over your shoulder towards the water where the rest of the boys had disappeared. At first you thought Jay was just teasing until you caught sight of Heeseung and confirmed the icy stare he was directing towards the two of you.

It was so out of his usual character that you felt genuine shock wrack through you, rolling over and sitting up properly.

After a few seconds of holding eye contact with each other he was wading out of the water and heading in your direction, Jay laughed and stood up swiftly with a mumble about ‘knowing when to leave’. He passed Heeseung on his way to the water and gave him a pat on the chest that you didn’t quite understand.

When he reached where you were sitting, you felt slightly hypnotized by the way he looked. He was standing over you and blocking out the sun, hair wet and dripping onto his tight swim shirt. He almost looked angry and your eyes dropped down to his extended hand that was pointing in your direction.

“Do you want to get ice cream with me?” Despite his tense exterior, his voice still sounded the exact same, a nervous quiver making his words quiet and stuttered.

He looked relieved when you nodded and took his hand, letting him pull you up onto your feet and help steady you.

The ice cream shop was connected to the beach but a bit away in the distance, leaving you out of view from the rest of your group and a bit more private. He hadn’t spoken the entire walk there and you were beginning to worry with how tense his shoulders were, stopping him before he turned the corner and softly guiding him so his back hit the side of the building.

He looked down at you as you crowded his space, pushing against him despite how cold the wetness of his shirt felt against your bare chest.

“What’s wrong?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes and he blinked down at you, jaw twitching with how tense it was

“Why didn’t you ask me?” He responded and you felt confused for a second before understanding he was referring to Jay applying your sunscreen.

The realization that he was jealous caused a surge of excitement to pass through you and you rocked forward on your toes, pressing against him harder if that was even possible.

“You walked away and he offered.” Your lips formed a pout despite your giddiness and his eyes went from your lips down to your chest that was smushed against his front.

You felt the sudden desperation to touch him or to have him touch you, maybe even to kiss him again. You just wanted to be as close to him as humanly possible, you wanted him to call you pretty again and you weren’t quite sure what to feel about this overwhelming urge.

“Don’t be mad at me Hee.” You continued after he didn’t say anything, his eyebrows pulled forward in a confused and jealous expression. You didn’t think he was actually mad at you but you didn’t like how his face didn’t have its usual softness.

“I’m not mad, I don’t know.” He confirmed your thoughts and shook his head, eyes softening just a little when he looked down at you again.

“Are you jealous?” You pressed on the subject, having a feeling he wouldn’t admit it on his own.

“I didn’t mind it I guess… seeing him touch you.” He admitted softly and you suddenly were plagued with the thought that he might be a lot less innocent than you thought. If anything he seemed a bit curious at the thought of somebody else touching you. “I just…”

“Wanted it to be you?” You filled in the blank for him as he trailed off and he nodded after a second.

You wanted to laugh at this but you didn’t, not wanting him to get embarrassed. Yet it was almost comical that he had absolutely no idea how much more of a chance he had with you than Jay, than any of the other boys who were constantly competing for your attention.

Instead of explaining this to him, you stood up on your toes again and pulled him down for a kiss.

Your hands were in his wet hair and a sudden shudder ran through you at the way he had to bend down to reach your mouth.

He was taken off guard for a second before kissing you back, this time immediately moving his mouth against yours in a nice slow rhythm like you had shown him next time. He was a fast learner and you felt giddy at that fact.

The kiss was sweet and slow, giving him the silent reassurance he seemed to be asking for but you felt growing impatience at the pace when you realized you were completely pressed against his lean body in a state of undress, tugging on his wet hair slightly in an attempt to catch his attention.

It seemed to work because you felt his shaky hands come up and rest on your lower back, pulling you tighter against him as he breathed an unsteady gasp against your lips. You liked the way he continuously tugged you forward despite there being no way you could get any closer to him.

His hands were fast and desperate as your mouths moved with eachother, the addicting feeling of kissing you clouding his mind and helping him forget all the anxiety and uneasiness he was originally feeling in your presence.

His knees were weakening and he slid down the wall slightly, legs jutting out at the weird angle so his leg was pressed slightly between your own, he immediately stopped pulling on your figure and kissing you, glancing down at what he’d just done.

He seemed unsure about the fact his knee was now practically hovering between your legs as you kept him trapped against the brick wall.

“Heeseung.” Your breathy use of his full name caught his attention and he snapped his head up to look at you. You didn’t say anything else, just nodding your head and kissing him again.

He accepted this as a form of permission, another surge of excitement and confidence pushing him to pull you closer again. This time, because of the new position, you were practically rocking against his bent leg as you breathed into his mouth.

You tried not to think about the fact you were practically dry humping him out in public, licking into his mouth to test his reaction to you pushing the kissing even further.

He half groaned, half whimpered at the feeling and squeezed his hands that were around your waist causing you to laugh at the ticklish sensation. Your laugh was interrupted by him pushing his tongue into your mouth suddenly, trying and failing to mirror what you had just done to him. You tugged on his hair again as a sign to take it slower, giving him a soft peck before demonstrating again.

You did that a few times, licking into his mouth and kissing him open mouthed and sloppy before pulling away to catch your breath and observe his reaction.

His normally wide eyes were downturned and hazy, dark with want and excitement as he experienced this emotion he’d never felt before. He felt addicted to you and the way you were melting against him, perched on his bent knee and taking pretty little gasps for air as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Fuck.” You were breathing out in a sigh and he couldn’t help but smile slightly at your state, feeling proud he had been the one to cause it. His cheeks were still bright red and you felt the urge to kiss him again. “You sure you haven’t done that before?”

This seemed to embarrass him further and he shifted against the wall, his shirt sticking to the rough material of the brick. He was practically dry by now and your hand left his hair to drag it’s way down his chest and stomach.

You could feel the muscle tensing and flexing under your touch despite the shirt creating a barrier between your skin to his and you felt mesmerized by the smooth slope of his stomach. He seemed to be taking in your outfit now too, possibly for the first time realizing how little clothes you were wearing.

“I didn’t know what to wear.” You were breathing out, overly aware of how self conscious you’d been earlier in the day regarding your bikini. It was pink and frilly, the bottoms fabric poking out from the top of your jean shorts.

“It’s perfect.” He was whispering, eyes locked on your chest and stomach. Then he was flushing again and looking back at you, embarrassment furthering at the way you quirked your eyebrow at him. “It’s pretty I mean.”

You didn’t respond, an unfamiliar blush on your cheeks at the sincerity in his compliment. You felt slightly angry at yourself for the way his validation changed your mood in seconds.

“Are you still upset.” You eventually asked and he shifted against the wall again, hands on your back pulling you tight like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“Wasn’t upset.” He mumbled and shrugged, holding your eye contact for once. “He just talks about you sometimes.

This peaked your interest slightly and you cocked your head at him. You knew Jay thought you were hot and liked to mess with you to piss your brother off but you hadn’t considered the fact he might actually be voicing desires for you when you weren’t around to hear.

“What’s he say?” You questioned and Heeseung suddenly looked like he did when you first met, awkward and squeamish.

“Just..” He was mumbling and squirming against you with a frown. “Stuff he wants to do to you I guess.”

You didn’t say anything, just humming in understanding and studying his features and expression. He looked slightly pale and like he was rethinking the things his friend had said in private, jaw tensing again like it had by the water.

“Stuff like.. kissing me?” You flattened your hand on his chest as your voice turned into a low drawl. “Sticking his tongue in my mouth and letting me feel good on his thigh?”

His mouth was parting in a small breath as you kept talking, slowly understanding you were describing things you’d done with him to make a strong point.

“Let him talk.” You shrugged and kissed his jaw, taking a small step away from him afterwards. “I’ve made my choice.”

——

After ushering a flustered Heeseung back to the water, ignoring the glare from Jake at your lack of ice cream, you found yourself actually managing to have fun.

You joined in on playing with them in the water, playing chicken against Sunoo, him on Riki’s shoulders and you ontop of Heeseung’s.

His strength surprised you, winning all three rounds before you were tapping out and practically coughing out water with messy hair and a bright smile. The sun was setting by the time you all left and you liked the way he looked on the drive home far more than the trip there, eyes tired and skin tanned.

The night you were rolling around in bed again, trying not to disturb a sleeping Sunoo next to you while you locked and unlocked your phone in frustrated contemplation.

Eventually you gave in to your desire, pressing follow on Heeseung’s private instagram and immediately shutting your phone off and pressing it tight to your chest when it alerted you a request had been sent to him.

You felt incredibly stupid for acting like this and like you weren’t in control of your emotions for the first time in a very long time. You think part of you liked that factor about the types of people you normally were with, the control was completely and utterly up to you and they’d pretty much follow you into battle if you batted your eyelashes the right way.

Heeseung had a weird way of making you feel helpless, despite making no move himself to control you or the things you did, he still had an upsetting power over you that you don’t even think he realized.

Proven correct again by the way your heart surged as your phone vibrated against your chest, lifting it up and squinting at the bright screen to see he had accepted your request and followed you back.

You wondered what he was doing up this late, nearing 3am now and opened up his profile to see if he had any post. There was only a handful and you scrolled to the bottom first, studying a pretty photo of a dog in a window without a caption.

The next three post were also pretty simple, photos of sunsets and a guitar leaning against a wall that you assumed was in his room. The four most recent were what caught you attention, actually featuring him and other people unlike the other ones which seemed more atmosphere focused.

You smiled softly at the photo of him and your brother, Jake in his football uniform with black paint smeared across his face as he appeared mid yell with an arm around Heeseung’s shoulder. You noted the camera around Heeseung’s neck and realized you had been right about Jake lying and he wasn’t actually on the football team, just working with them.

The fondness you felt looking at the photo was followed by a pang of guilt as you looked at the next one, another photo with Jake but this time with the rest of the boys as well.

Heeseung was in the middle of the mirror selfie with a bright smile on his face, one you hadn’t seen and the other boys were crowding around him in different poses. You opened the comments to see them having various discussions, but all for the most part, praising Heeseung for taking a photo of his face and posting it.

The final two made your breath catch in your throat, considering the fact you were in both of them.

You weren’t sure when he had taken the first one, a photo of you lazily strewn in the plastic chair at the beach. You were adjusting your sunglasses and mid laugh at something that, you assume Sunoo, was saying off in the distance.

It must’ve been some time after your water fights considering your hair was wet across your shoulders and you weren’t wearing the shorts you had been before. The sun was cascading prettily and you don’t remember if it was actually that beautiful out or if he had edited the photo expertly.

You’d always been aware of the fact that people found you pretty, having heard it pretty much your entire life even when you didn’t quite believe it or know how to respond. You’re sure nowadays people found it as a negative thing, thinking you were too full of yourself when you fluffed your perfectly crafted hair or conceited in the way you constantly reapplied mascara and lipgloss. But for the first time in your entire life, staring at this photo he’d taken of you, you thought you looked beautiful.

You liked it hesitantly, scrolling up to see the second and final one of you.

You’d seen him take this one, it was right after he’d taken a few of Jake and Jay as they dried off and joked around with each other and then he was turning the camera towards you.

A smile spread across your face making your cheeks hurt as you looked at it. You were staring at the camera with a shocked look on your cheery face, a peace sign held up in a blur of movement from your fast attempt at a pose before he clicked the button.

These ones didn’t have any captions either but something about him picking two photos of you from all the ones you’d seen him taking today made your heart race in a way that made you slightly queasy. He was continuing to surprise you and more noticeably, making you surprise yourself.

“Can you shut that shit off?” Sunoo’s groggy voice was immediately snapping you out of your little dream like thought process, the brightness of your screen waking him up.

“I think I like him.” You let your words hang in the darkness, not liking the way he fell completely silent at your whispered statement.

“That’s new.” He eventually breathed out and you heard him turn onto his side, trying to look at you in the darkness. You were laying flat on your back and staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. There was some left over glow in the dark stars from a middle school sleepover the two of you had.

“Yeah.” You breathed out in response. “Well.. goodnight.”

——

By the time you had finally woken up, eyes peeling open with a groan, Sunoo was already up and out of bed. You could hear him off somewhere in your house, laughing loudly at something.

You frowned and checked the time, noting the two notifications underneath the numbers alerting you it was already past noon.

Jake was one of the notification banners, sending you a message to announce the fact he was having a party tonight. Your frown deepened as you read that. Your weekends were usually filled with bouncing from different houses with each other but it was rare you held one at home.

The other notification changed your mood, seeing that Heeseung had seemingly liked every single one of your instagram post while you had been sleeping.

You smiled to yourself giddily at the thought of him scrolling through your page, without thinking you were pressing the ‘message’ tab on his page and typing.

y/n : hi

heeseung : Hey

y/n : woah that was fast

heeseung : Sorry

heeseung : Should I wait a bit

You laughed out loud at the fact he was somehow able to be more awkward over text than he already was in person, a fondness settling in your tired head.

y/n : will i see u tonight?

A few seconds passed without a response despite the little words under your message letting you know he had read it immediately, most likely sitting with your chat open similarly to how you were with his.

heeseung : I’m actually already here… downstairs to be specific

y/n : will u come up here?

You sent the message before you thought about it and you watched his activity status turn off after he read your message.

You immediately panicked and sat up swiftly, you hadn’t even considered the fact you were freshly woken up and he had never seen you in any state of slightly natural, suddenly overwhelming insecure of how you looked.

Before you had a chance to get out from under the covers or look in the mirror, soft knocks on your door were making you freeze and hold your breath.

You felt ridiculous once Heeseung poked his head inside your door, his big round eyes brightening when he saw you sat up with your blankets covering your lap. He looked excited to see you and you quickly forgot about your appearance or what he might’ve been thinking at the sight of you. He clearly was happy to see you.

“Hey.” He breathed out, sliding through a small gap in your door and softly closing it behind him. You wondered if he gave Jake an excuse for leaving or just hoped he wouldn’t notice his absence.

“Hi.” You smiled warmly at him and patted the side of your bed that was empty, where Sunoo had been sleeping a few hours before. He glanced at you in confusion for a second before hesitantly walking closer to your bed and slowly lowering himself onto it.

It creaked underneath his weight and you laughed softly at his slow movements, lifting the blankets once he was sat down and tossing them over his lap so you were both halfway underneath the covers.

“Are we taking a nap?” He was whispering in a joking tone and you briefly acknowledged the fact he was a lot more casual around you in terms of saying things on his mind.

You were a bit nervous about this change in pacing between the two of you. Maybe he had come up to your room expecting something similar to your past interactions, maybe he was even disappointed as he laid next to you in your warm bed with no sign of your usual devil horns peeking through.

“Is that okay?” Even when unsure of yourself, you liked to remain blunt and honest.

He looked at you for a few beats, eyes warm and knowing like he had somehow figured out your insecurity. Then he was nodding and laying back against the pillow, outstretching an arm onto yours so when you laid down, it’d be against him and not your fabric.

You curled against his side and silently appreciated him for not saying anything, drinking in his silence and resting your head on his chest so you could listen to his heartbeat.

Surprisingly, it was still racing just as fast as it normally was despite only laying in bed with you. He was showing no signs of nervousness or anxiety, or maybe you were still half asleep and were just failing to pick up on his usual signs.

“Are you nervous?” You whispered for some reason and he tightened his arm around you, rubbing your back slowly and uncertainly.

“I’m always nervous I think.” He was whispering back and you almost laughed at the drama of it all. “Especially around you.”

You hummed softly, your hand coming up to rest against his stomach so you could feel his inhales better. He was wearing a white tshirt and you could feel his muscles tensing at your touch.

“Because I’m pretty?” You tried not to sound desperate when you asked, not wanting him to think you were fishing for compliments. You just wanted to hear him say it for some reason.

“Yeah, you’re pretty.” He seemed to always know what you were thinking, immediately fulfilling your request despite the blush it brought to his cheeks. “And you’re nice to me.”

This caught your attention more than the first part, although that also undeniably made your face flush. You weren’t quite sure you’d be at all nice to him, sure you hadn’t made a fool out of him or completely ignored him but you were genuinely taken back by the fact he thought you were nice.

You’d heard charming, alluring and even, at times, manipulatively sweet but it was rare somebody told you they thought you were kind.

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” You pushed forward in your low spoken questioning, liking the vulnerability this position gave you. You were the closest you’ve ever been but you couldn’t see each others faces, making it easier to speak freely.

You felt his body move in what, you could only assume, was a small shrug. His hand stopped moving on your back and you shifted closer to him, frowning slightly at his sudden silence.

“You’re nice too.” You decided to say eventually, feeling embarrassed at the openness.

“I’m sure everybody’s nice to you.” He was slowly sounding more tired and you wanted to sit up and shake him awake so you could keep talking. “It must be hard not to be.”

You didn’t like the way he said that, like you were somebody deserving of good treatment all the time. You suddenly felt a pang of guilt at the reminder of who you were, why he was even in your bed in the first place.

“It’s different.” You said instead, not wanting to give those nasty thoughts too much attention. “You’re actually nice. Not because you want to sleep with me or get close to my brother.”

“I think sleeping with you would solidify me never being close to your brother again.” You could hear the smile in his voice and you laughed against his chest. He seemed looser when he was tired and you wanted to ask him all the things he’d normally be too shy to say out loud.

A minute passed in the silence and you realized through the soft rise and fall of his stomach that he had fallen asleep, arm limp in it’s place on your side.

You tried not to think about any of the things bothering you despite Sunoo’s voice in your head reminding you that your normal habits were immoral. Focusing in instead on the soft beat of Heeseung’s heart, you let yourself fall back asleep against him.

——

By the time you woke up again, even more groggy and out of it than you had been the first time, you could tell it was later in the day.

The soft blue haze of the sun setting was filling up your room and you almost started to stretch like normal before remembering you hadn’t fallen asleep alone, sitting up slightly in confusion at the lack of company in your bed.

Heeseung wasn’t there anymore and the blankets were messy like he had left in a hurry. You waited for a few seconds to listen in for him, maybe in your connected bathroom a few feet away but after not hearing anything and feeling the fact the bed was cold on his side you figured he had left some time ago.

You weren’t mad at him considering the fact the party had probably begun to start by now, you sleeping most the day away after having such a long night, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he hadn’t left a note or sent a text.

You immediately felt stupid for thinking like this considering he was most likely just downstairs with the other boys and it wasn’t like he went home in the middle of the night, he knew he’d see you even if he left. It wasn’t like you to act like this over a boy and it would’ve been more frustrating and worrisome if he wasn’t so kind and gentle with you.

Finally climbing out of bed, you dressed yourself in a skirt and a hoodie before fixing your hair and applying some mascara. They were most likely pregaming by now, maybe a few early stragglers stopping by to get ahold of the best drinks before they were gone. But you didn’t really feel the need to overdo your appearance like you typically did, feeling more comfortable since it was held at your house and you could always come and change if the situation called for it.

You were leaving your room and making your way to the stairs when you heard unfamiliar laughs and voices coming from the living room.

Pausing against the railing, you froze and listened in to what they were saying once you heard your name from one of their mouths.

“I mean you have to tell us dude, she has to be good considering how much she’s ran through.” One of the boys from the football team was talking and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

You weren’t sure who he was talking to but it didn’t bother you much considering you’d heard it before, rumors from classmates and name calling from boys who were mad you had turned them down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This definitely bothered you. Heeseung’s sweet nervous voice was floating up the stairs and you heard the other boys started laughing again at the way his voice shook.

“C‘mon man, I totally saw you leaving her room earlier when Sim called.” Another boy was speaking now and you wondered how many were down there and why your brother wasn’t with Heeseung.

You considered marching down there and dragging Heeseung away from the teasing, but you figured that would only put him in a worse spot. You didn’t mind anybody knowing you were doing things with him but you knew he was serious about Jake not finding out.

“Why would I fuck her?” Heeseung was talking again and your heart dropped at his tone of voice, almost sounding disgusted by the idea. “Like you said, she’s ran through.”

You didn’t hear anything else after that, ears deafening once the boys started to laugh and seemingly smack his back in approval for his harsh words against you. Your throat felt hot with embarrassment and panic was filling up your chest and head.

“Y/N? What are you doing up there?” Jake’s concerned voice filtered through and you looked down through the gaps in the banister, seeing him having just walked through the door with groceries bags dangling from his arm.

Your teary eyes shuffled over towards Heeseung and the football players to see him standing completely rigid as he looked up at you, Jake calling attention to you and your hiding place.

There was no use in pretending you hadn’t heard what he said, your expression betraying you and making it extremely obvious.

You were turning around and darting back into your room, slamming the door and throwing yourself onto your bed in a sob. Burying your face into the pillow, you groaned in frustration at the fact it smelled like Heeseung and you threw it onto the floor.

You’ve heard these things before, even worse at times but for some reason hearing him say it felt like the worst thing possible.

It was the scariest thing in the world, the way you felt about him so soon, but for once you were finding yourself liking the loss of control. It felt safe and comfortable, completely opposing how it normally felt.

You weren’t sure if he actually thought those things about you or if he was just trying to douchebag his way out of an awkward conversation but it didn’t matter to you regardless, his voice looping in your head with that unfamiliar tone.

A vibration under your stomach was causing you to pick up your sniffly face, eyes squinted with tears as you shuffled around to try to find your abandoned phone you were apparently smothering.

When you finally managed to feel it against your wandering hand you saw a few different text chain alerts.

One from Sunoo, asking if you were okay and if he could come up or if you wanted some space. Another was from Jake again, double texting to ask a similar thing followed by telling you he’d cancel the party if you wanted him to.

You responded to them both quickly, telling Sunoo you were okay and you’d talk to him later and letting Jake know you didn’t care about the party you’d just stay in your room.

The third message was from Heeseung’s instagram account but you didn’t look at it, shutting off your screen and yelling into your blanket.

You thought for just a second about getting up out of your bed and putting on your best outfit, going down to join the party and acting like Heeseung hadn’t affected you as much as he did.

But that was the thing you liked most about him. You didn’t feel the need to play this character or hide behind an emotionless mask.

Instead you spent the rest of the night in that same position, listening to the music gradually get louder as more and more people filled into your house. You almost wanted to laugh at the irony of you, a complete party goer with a carefree lifestyle, hiding from an exciting night just a few feet away.

Hours were passing like that, your mind racing with thoughts of what they could be doing down there. You wondered if Heeseung wanted to follow you up here but was too shy or if he had no plans of coming at all. You curled into a ball on your side.

Eventually you let yourself fall asleep again, body feeling heavy and exhausted from crying and overthinking. You couldn’t have been asleep long before you were waking up again to soft knocks against your door, you frowned deeply and ignored them.

You figured it was some drunken idiot, maybe a couple looking for a room to hook up in and you didn’t have the energy to tell them to go away so you just laid there in silence and hope they didn’t try to turn your unlocked doorknob. That hope didn’t last long before you heard the soft rattle of the metal, the knob squeaking as it twisted and your door was pushed open just a sliver.

Nobody came through it at first, like they were waiting for a reaction from you, and then Heeseung’s head was poking through it just how it did this morning.

The scene was a direct replay but the mood was completely flipped now, his face lacking any sign of a warm smile and instead looking startled at the fact you were awake and looking at him coming into your room.

“Were you hoping I was asleep so you could just leave?” You looked away from him as you spoke, rolling back onto your stomach to try to look less pathetic and more casual.

He didn’t say anything, coming into your room considering the fact you hadn’t screamed at him to get out, and closing the door behind him.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He was stuttering and you had a feeling he was wringing his hands together but he sounded sure of himself.

You sighed and turned your head to look at him from your spot on the bed. He was awkwardly hovering next to the bed and looking at you, face crumpling with guilt when he saw your puffy eyes and red cheeks.

“Or I can just suck your dick and you can go and rate it on a scale of 1-10 for the entire school body.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your sarcasm and he slowly sat on your bed, keeping his distance and barely resting against the edge of it.

“That’s not funny.” He shook his head as he spoke, his back was towards you but he was looking over his shoulder at you.

“It seemed to be earlier.” That was slightly unfair of you considering he hadn’t been laughing with them earlier from what you could tell but his harsh words had been replaying in your mind for hours and you weren’t feeling the most gentle towards him.

“They just got in my head I don’t know.” He was still shaking his head and pressing his hands tightly against his knees. “They kept talking about what you do and I just wanted it to be different.”

“It is different.” You were cutting him off and his jaw twitched slightly. He didn’t seem to know how to explain himself properly and he was digging himself a bigger hole. “I thought what we were doing was different.”

“How?” He was turning more so he could look at you more directly, eyebrows furrowed in an angry expression you hadn’t seen before. “What’s different about this? Jake told me the same thing when I first got here, I know you’re just going to drop this once it’s over.”

“Everything is different about this.” You sat up now, perched on your knees and leaning forward on your hands for emphasis. “I’m not going to sit here and feel bad about my sex life because of your ego Heeseung.”

His face dropped and he shook his head. You knew he wasn’t like that and he wasn’t directly shaming you for being experienced, he was just insecure and didn’t know how to express it. But that wasn’t an excuse for the things he had said about you.

“If you want to hide… whatever this is than fine that’s your choice.” Your voice wavered as you said it, the thought stinging slightly of him being ashamed to be with you. “You could have lied or brushed them off but you chose to insult me and say horrible things.”

His face was softening again in guilt and you were slightly confused before you realized you were crying again. He seemed to lean forward without realizing it and you sat back up on your knees to keep distance between you.

“I’m sorry.” He looked and sounded genuine and you wanted to believe he was but you had also never thought he’d be capable of something like that, so maybe you were trusting him too blindly.

“You made it sound disgusting.” You spat the final word out, face curling in a hurt sob and then he was pulling you into a tight hug, falling forward on your knees and crashing into his chest.

You wanted to be able to push him off of you and tell him to leave your room, leave your house better yet, but you couldn’t help wrapping your arms around his neck and crying into the same soft shirt you’d been sleeping peacefully on a few hours ago.

“It’s not disgusting.” His voice was causing his chest to vibrate and you could feel his heartbeat against your cheek. “I’m such an idiot and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being with you.”

He sounded the most confident you’d heard him, voice lacking its usual quiver and stutter other than the heavy weight of emotion behind his statement.

“You’re right, it was a total ego thing. I didn’t understand why somebody as confident and pretty as you would be interested in me.” He continued on and you wanted to interrupt and dispute his negative claims against himself but you decided to let him finish since he, for once, seemed sure in his words.

“I like spending time with you even if it hasn’t been that long.” You sniffled as he spoke and burrowed into his chest so he knew you were still listening. “Even if Jake tackles me next time he sees me.”

You laughed at that and you felt him rest his chin on top of your head. You were still upset but his words were helping and you wanted to believe him, you were just contemplating if it was worth abandoning the techniques you’d been using to avoid getting hurt like this.

“Maybe I should have asked you on a date before trying to put my fingers in your mouth.” You were whispering against his chest and he barked a laugh at your sudden blunt joke.

Neither of you said anything after that, letting each other think over the situation and sit in a tight hug, you practically in his lap now. You felt a strange tug at your heart regarding the fact there was complete innocence between you despite the compromising position.

“Is this a bad time to ask you on a date then?” He eventually was whispering above your head and you smiled softly into his shirt.

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