he's a ten but he...
premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.
characters. dorm leaders
content. gender neutral reader
malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)
"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"
"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"
he blinks, then shrugs.
like i said, has NO sense of space.
if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.
if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!
cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.
if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.
(I wish I could be that unbothered.)
lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.
^ totally has his own album full of pictures.
if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯
since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.
while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)
"child of man, have you slept?"
*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.
"WTF."
not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?
idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')
user: where tf r u??
ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?
user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES
unintentionally stood you up 💀
you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.
ghoul666: we do??
user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.
ghoul666: NO PLS
ghoul666: HELLO????
next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.
in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭
though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...
big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(
with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.
if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.
ghoul666: can we not go there
user: 😐
user: you are testing my patience love
ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)
ghoul666: how abt
ghoul666: mimic together? call
user: sighs
user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you
queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.
the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.
"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.
unsurprisingly does carry you.
asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)
vil (frets over you way too much.)
"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"
"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"
"I love you but please give it back—"
"I love you too, and no."
disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)
looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!
and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..
*shows up literally half an hour in*
why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)
vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.
oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..
you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.
if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!
you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.
"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"
you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)
vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."
you sigh.
"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."
vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."
"... I feel offended."
"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."
after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.
the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)
epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)
"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"
"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."
rook giggles away.
kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)
"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?
you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.
"a gift!"
"wait why does it say lot 111--"
as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.
but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..
fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.
after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.
"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"
"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."
if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...
( ^ it is btw.)
kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.
he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)
you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?
the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.
was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.
bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.
even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.
"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"
"for them! ;D"
"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"
"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"
you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...
(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')
azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)
"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."
"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"
"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."
pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.
now he won't go last 50!
ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.
last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.
love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.
but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*
but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.
who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..
yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.
they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.
one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?
...
they do look like they've seen some though..
jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)
long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.
"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.
azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"
he praises himself for his quick thinking.
COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)
then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.
it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.
you screech. "JADE PLEASE."
the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."
"AZUL."
"... only on a condition of course."
frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.
'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'
actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?
leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)
"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."
"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."
"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."
to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.
there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.
rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.
and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?
leona's work no doubt.
you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.
if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.
at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.
it goes something like;
"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."
a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.
you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.
...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.
"because you care about me?"
"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"
you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"
he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."
...
...
see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.
next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.
"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.
"really?" <- you, confused
riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)
“I'm just a little busy.”
“I understand,” riddle says.
“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.
“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…
“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point.
for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.
that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)
you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.
he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.
but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.
…busy…
riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.
somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.
“THIS IS ABSURD.”
and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)
that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.
everyone noted to steer clear.
and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’
“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.
he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)
guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite.
“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.
“i thought you were busy.” he adds.
your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.
he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile.
“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”
“no!”
silence.
“no.” he repeats, weaker.
“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?”
he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”
you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”
so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,
so cute…….
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always only you (c.sc)
summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.
note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy
warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other
pairings: s.coups x reader
genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers
word count: 14.2K
It was a bad date.
Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either.
Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers.
You just wish you never told Mingyu.
I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.
Stupid.
You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure.
You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you.
Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it.
“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile.
“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”
“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth.
The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought.
Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you.
You do fast math, panic math.
After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home.
Your stomach churns.
You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”
He’s gone before you can say thank you.
You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain.
Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this.
The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots.
It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call.
You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?
No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing.
You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride.
The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box.
Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone.
The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,”
The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”
“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”
“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”
“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?”
“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”
“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?”
He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop.
“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.
“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys.
You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops.
“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,”
You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,”
“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,”
You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming.
The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first.
You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress.
Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care.
He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless.
Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.
Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately.
Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel.
A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse.
By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill.
When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air.
He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather.
“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way.
His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?”
“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,”
He blinks, “y/n,”
“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,”
Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality.
He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you.
You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,”
“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position.
The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.
“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?”
Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red.
He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“I know,”
“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.”
Oh.
Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,”
He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words.
“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,”
“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact.
“I know,” You sigh.
“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?”
“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,”
Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish.
“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,”
“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.”
“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,”
“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”
He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait.
The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory.
He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,”
“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone.
“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.”
“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,”
“What, y/n?” He pushes a little.
“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,”
“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road.
“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,”
“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile.
“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,”
He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?”
“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,”
He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?”
“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,”
“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave.
You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,”
“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in.
“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain.
“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.”
Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?”
You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,”
“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,”
“I know,” You breathe.
He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?”
“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,”
“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,”
“I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,”
He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,”
You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?”
“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.”
You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly.
“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,”
His hand tightens on yours.
“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,”
You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour.
“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you.
“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,”
His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,”
“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.”
“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,”
You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green.
He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,”
“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty.
“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,”
“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?”
“Shut up,” He sighs.
“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?”
He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?”
“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,”
His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,”
“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,”
He grimaces, “Ugh,”
“Exactly,”
“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,”
He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal.
Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?”
“You want to come up?”
“If you don’t mind,”
“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol.
He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times.
It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.
“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,”
“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here.
“So,” He clears his throat lightly.
“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,”
You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride.
But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding.
Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s.
He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go.
“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,”
“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands.
Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps.
“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,”
“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,”
“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,”
“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?”
“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,”
He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom.
It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself.
But then he laughs again.
You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?”
“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf.
“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,”
“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign.
“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile.
“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,”
He nods, “I remember,”
“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,”
“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,”
“Mm,” You laugh.
“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee.
“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise.
“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’”
“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,”
“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,”
“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,”
“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,”
“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little.
“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,”
“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,”
Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?”
“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,”
He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you.
“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,”
Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back.
“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,”
“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue.
“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,”
“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.”
“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,”
He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,”
“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee.
“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question.
“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”
His eyes flick over you and then he nods.
The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”
You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash.
“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,”
“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply.
“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning.
It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it.
“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him.
He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least.
You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry,”
He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,”
“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,”
“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,”
“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,”
“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has.
“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”
He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours.
You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist.
He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?”
“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird.
“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?”
“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in.
You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,”
This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you.
“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,”
He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,”
“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw.
“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,”
“Yeah?” You’re breathless already.
“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants.
A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss.
“God,” He shivers.
“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,”
Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away.
“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,”
“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,”
“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back.
“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,”
“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth.
“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart.
“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms.
“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip.
“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?”
“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,”
“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small.
“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,”
“Okay,”
“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?”
Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards.
“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.”
“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,”
“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze.
“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,”
He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?”
“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,”
He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,”
“Yeah,”
“And you wanted me?”
You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,”
“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,”
“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,”
He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity.
“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,”
“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out.
He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,”
“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat.
“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,”
“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders.
His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?”
“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,”
“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,”
You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again.
With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.
“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,”
His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,”
“Baby?”
He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,”
“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley.
“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,”
“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?”
His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,”
For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you.
“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,”
Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?”
He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?”
“Please,” You whisper.
He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric.
“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess.
“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,”
You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else.
“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,”
You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,”
“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,”
This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises.
“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,”
“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again.
A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction.
“Yeah?” He prompts you gently.
“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,”
He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,”
“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.
“Can I eat you out?”
Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,”
You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you.
You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you.
“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,”
“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze.
“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,”
“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile.
His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,”
Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly.
“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,”
“Cheol,” You whisper tightly.
“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,”
Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest.
“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?”
“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam.
“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip.
“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this.
His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?”
“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.
“y/n,” He squeezes you a little.
“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,”
“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?”
“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high.
“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?”
“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?”
“Of course,” You kiss him back.
“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”
Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast.
“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,”
“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,”
His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?”
“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,”
“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?”
“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,”
He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,”
Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,”
“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,”
You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth.
“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,”
“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,”
“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue.
You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you.
“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,”
“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,”
He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts.
Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap.
“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,”
He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,”
He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder.
“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”
He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit.
“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,”
It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure.
“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,”
Everything you are is trembling in his hands.
“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,”
You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin.
“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,”
“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open.
“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,”
Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”
“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,”
“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,”
He sighs, “This pussy,”
“Cheol,” You blush hard.
“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,”
“Anything?”
He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.”
“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?”
He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,”
“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,”
“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench.
When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen.
You want him inside you so badly you could cry.
“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his.
“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder.
“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs.
“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,”
He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,”
“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.
He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,”
“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?”
He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder.
“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?”
It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.
“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance.
“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand.
You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,”
“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls.
You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper.
“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,”
“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,”
“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,”
Your muscles clench down around his fingers.
He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?”
You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,”
“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?”
“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again.
“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,”
All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you.
When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz.
“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again.
“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you.
“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams.
The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go.
Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease.
When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down.
“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms.
“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?”
“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,”
He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?”
You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,”
“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?”
He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone.
He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?
“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,”
“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him.
You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,”
“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock.
“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,”
He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him.
“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,”
He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him.
He nods, just a little.
“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,”
His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers.
You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this.
“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,”
He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?”
You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,”
Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs.
You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel.
“y/n,” He pants tightly.
You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down.
“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,”
“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early.
“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,”
He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,”
“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again.
“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips.
The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest.
“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,”
You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,”
“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards.
“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,”
“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,”
Your eyes slam shut.
“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,”
“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter.
“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming.
Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”
He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,”
You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.
“So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss.
“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,”
Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm.
“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,”
As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you.
“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,”
“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together.
You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move.
When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?”
“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,”
“Yeah?”
“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,”
You laugh against him, “Next time?”
He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,”
You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,”
He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,”
Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,”
He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?”
“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly.
“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,”
You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,”
“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,”
“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,”
“Good,” He sighs.
You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,”
“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you.
“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,”
“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs.
Maybe you could rally.
Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,”
“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,”
“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing.
Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed.
You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours.
You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine.
In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads.
“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,”
You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest.
“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”
Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake.
“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention.
“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,”
“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,”
Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”
He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,”
“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,”
“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,”
“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups.
“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,”
“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,”
He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?”
“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest.
His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,”
Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog.
“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel.
“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,”
“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”
“Go?” He asks.
“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,”
His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,”
“You what,” You blink.
“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,”
You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go.
“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,”
You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side.
“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”
“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue.
“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,”
Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you.
You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,”
“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap.
“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,”
He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?”
“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,”
“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand.
“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,”
“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,”
You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.
When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch.
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Hiii idk if you write for mattheo riddle but I was wondering if you could write a mattheo riddle × hufflepuff!reader one with princess treatment and secret dating? Maybe some angst with fluff at the end? If not no problem thank youuuuuu🦧
My Love 🌸❤️🔥
Dating a jealous Mattheo Riddle in secret is never a good idea
a.n // swearing, Mattheo is lowkey mean at one point
fluff/angst // m.r x hufflepuff! reader
Mattheo never was a morning person. Becoming one was one of the "good" habits he had developed since becoming your boyfriend. He was also getting less detentions, owing it to you, and your good influence. He would almost always have his homework completed, his grades were improving as he actually attended his lessons, and he no longer joined in with his childish friends as they practically bullied their classmates. He also had you believe he quit smoking. He didn't and would always discard his cigarette whenever you saw him, but how could he tell you the truth when you looked so proudly at him, as though he had the entire world in his hands.
Almost everyone around him had noticed the small changes in his behaviour, but no one needed to know that he had his own guardian angel in human form that made smiling come a lot easier to him than before.
"You're really special to me, y/n." he had whispered that secret meeting at the Black Lake. It had become a routine for the two of you to meet at the lake and spend time just being two teenagers in love without the burden of family and circumstances. After all, he was the Slytherin prince, son of the dark lord, and you were simply a girl in Hufflepuff. Nothing special, though his words would have you believing otherwise.
You were sitting between his legs as he leaned against a tree, back leaning against his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.
You smiled at his words, how he was able to be so soft, "You're special to me too Mattheo."
He brought up a soft hand to pull your chin to face him, "I mean it, princess, you've changed my life for the better. You're so pure and kind, dont know what you're doing with me."
You looked up at him with wide eyes as you pressed a kiss in his palm.
"Don't look at me like that angel," he groaned, throwing his head back, "You don't know what you do to me."
You giggled at his exaggerated actions, "You're such a drama queen Mattheo."
"It's just what you do to me."
"Mattheo, I haven't done anything to you. You've always been a kind, caring soul, and now everyone else sees what I see."
"Lucky them." he said sarcastically, "Come on then, princess, I've got practice, and you've got a Hogsmeade date with Lavender, we can't keep her waiting." he tapped your side, and you got up, holding a hand out to pull him up. He smiled down at you when you did, always in love with how much taller he was than you. You pulled him into a hug, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.
"Meet me tonight?" he whispered.
You shook your head into his chest, "I can't, I'm studying in the library with Cho and Lavender."
He rolled his eyes, thankful you couldn't see the look of annoyance on his face. He loved you (though he hadn't yet said), but what he didn't love was the secrecy of your relationship that prevented you from doing normal couple things. To be entirely honest, it was his decision to keep the relationship a secret, but it was all for you. Everyone in Hogwarts loved you. You were popular and incredibly liked because of your friendly, positive spirit. The last thing he needed on his conscious was ruining that for you, making you be seen with him.
He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, "I'll see you later then, yeah?"
You smiled sweetly at him and nodded, "Of course, have a good practice."
.
.
"but y/n are you ok with this arrangement?" asked Lavender, your best friend, at The Three Broomsticks.
"Arrangement? God Lavender you make it sound like a business deal."
Lavender was the only person who knew about you and Mattheo, as the two of you couldn't help but gossip about everything, including your own lives.
"It sounds that way to me. I mean, he won't even talk to you in public."
"He talks to me." you muttered.
"A subtle nod of encouragement doesn't count."
You rolled your eyes at your best friend, but deep down, you knew she was telling the truth.
At the beginning of the relationship, you didn't mind that he didn't want to tell anyone, but it had been four months, and he was still treating you as this big secret. You were able to deal with it as he was a good boyfriend. You may have been dating in secret, but he always made his presence known and treated you like a princess, even if it was from a distance.
"I don't know anymore Lavender how am I even supposed to bring it up in conversation. Maybe he's ashamed of me or something."
"I really hope he isn't because then I'd have to kill him. Just ask him."
"I can't just ask him."
"Why not, I thought you weren't scared of him."
You sighed out in exasperation, "I'm not. But, I just don't want to ruin things."
Lavender stared empathetically at you, taking your hand into hers, "y/n, he's your boyfriend, acknowledging you in public is the literal bare minimum."
"I know, I'll talk to him."
.
.
"Oi big game tomorrow Smith." heckled Malfoy in Potions the next day. You rolled your eyes from beside Zacharias Smith, the chaser for Hufflepuff.
"As far as I can remember, Hufflepuff beat Slytherin last Malfoy." you said to the cocky blonde boy, "let's hope you don't get injured this time." you smiled sweetly at him. Mattheo sniggered from beside Malfoy, earning a nudge from his friend and quidditch teammate.
"What, she's not wrong." he shrugged to a scowling Malfoy, a grin evident on his usual miserable face.
"Shut it, Riddle. And you too l/n, you might want to pay more attention to Snape, last I checked you failed this class."
You rolled your eyes at the petty boy. Of all Mattheo's friends you liked Malfoy the least, he was arrogant and immature. You took your attention off of him and continued with the potion before you.
"You might want to stop paying attention to Snape, Malfoy. You act like his little pet." muttered Zacharias Smith to Malfoy. Tensions always rose near quidditch games, and Smith could have been just as petty as anyone else. His remark made you laugh out loud, especially after seeing the look of annoyance on Malfoys face.
"Is something funny Miss l/n?" Came Snape's monotonous voice.
"No sir."
Snape took one look at you and Smith down his nose and turned back to his lesson, "The two of you can join me for detention tonight and exchange as many jokes as you want then."
You rolled your eyes behind Snape's back, knowing best not to challenge his words.
"Bet you're happy to be in detention with your little girlfriend and Snape." laughed Malfoy.
"Shut it, teachers' pet." argued Smith.
"Leave it Zacharias, there's no point."
"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend Smith."
You shook your head at Malfoy's childish behaviour and raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend who stood beside him. Half expecting Mattheo to say something in your defence, but you knew he wouldn't. He wore a scowl like no other and aggressively worked on his potion, occasionally huffing in anger. Though you had no idea as to what he was angry about, if anything, you should be the angry one as he allowed his best friend to talk down to his girlfriend.
The lesson seemed to draw out, and you were glad you were paired up with Zacharias, whose jokes took your attention off of your sulking boyfriend. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mattheo burning holes into you with his intense gaze. He didn't engage once in Blaise and Draco's conversation. Instead, with his jaw clenched, he sulked over his potion.
"I'm sorry about Snape giving us detention, but I also half expected it the second Malfoy spoke." Smith said in the corridor when the class had finally finished.
"It's fine, I did aswell, we all know Malfoy has Snape in his pocket. Thanks for defending me though."
"Of course, anytime y/n, I just can't stand him, I really hope we win tomorrow, wipe the smile off his face."
"Me too, I will be cheering so much for you guys."
Zacharias smiled at you, "Then I'm sure we'll win. I'll see you at detention. I'm gonna go meet my mates, bye y/n."
"Bye Zacharias," you waved him goodbye and made your way to your dorm room.
Detention with Snape came quick and ended just the same. You and Zacharias met outside his classroom, and Snape simply had you organise some of his ingredients for class the next coming lesson.
"Bye y/n, I've got practice now but I'll see you tomorrow hopefully."
"Bye Zacharias, of course you'll see me," you smiled as you waved him goodbye. You had known Zacharias a long time, practically growing up with each other due to living in the same neighbourhood.
"Enjoy detention, did you?" came a familiar voice in the otherwise empty corridor.
"Don't think anyone enjoys detention, Mattheo." You replied as your boyfriend emerged from a dark corner.
"I waited for you," he began, stopping to inhale from his cigarette, "Seems you had good company though."
You stared at him as he fiddled with his cigarette, "I thought you quit."
"Only do it when I'm stressed." he shrugged. A clear lie. His demeaner entirely different to how he was the other day at the Black Lake.
"What's there to be stressed about? You seemed just fine sulking in potions." You said crossed your arms.
"I weren't fucking sulking, forgive me for not being all chipper when my girlfriends practically throwing herself at my rival." he spat out.
"Throwing herself?! Excuse me, Mattheo, I was simply speaking to my lifelong friend. What, you wanted me to speak to you as you practically let Malfoy be rude to me, your girlfriend might I add." You pointed an accusing finger into his chest.
"That's different, not like I was flirting with someone else in front of you."
"I was not flirting. And don't act all high and mighty when you won't even defend me. You'd rather keep me a secret so you don't have to speak up to your friends."
"I'm not scared to speak up against Malfoy," he sneered as he let out a bitter laugh, "Whatever love, I've got a game to focus on. I can't be doing with your crying because I won't hold your hand in public."
"Mattheo, that's mean." you sighed, voice threatening to break, incredibly taken aback by his harsh tones. All this because you were nice to a boy you had known forever. You should have known. Everything with Mattheo was perfect, almost too perfect it made you forget how mean he could be. He was simply no different to Malfoy, and you stupidly thought he would be.
He merely shrugged at your words and turned on his heels, marching down the corridor down to the dungeons. He left you there with tears threatening to fall.
.
.
You woke up the next day in low spirits later than usual. You managed to pull yourself out of bed and make it to breakfast just before it ended. Your eyes were puffy from crying and your face red. You managed to catch a glimpse of Mattheo sitting at the Slytherin table. He didn't look as he usually did before a quidditch match. His eyes were on you instead of on his captain, and a faint air of guilt lingered around him.
"Hey you ok y/n?" asked Cadwallader from across the table. Another one of Hufflepuff's chasers.
"Just tired. Good luck today though, all of you."
"Thanks y/n, I think we've got this win, though." winked Zacharias.
You sat with Lavender in the stands and watched absentmindedly as the two teams came onto the pitch. The Hufflepuff players wore smiles and carried a sense of certainty about them, contrasting to the scowls plastered on the Slytherin players. Draco Malfoy, captain of them all, aggressively shook the hand of the Hufflepuff captain, Cadwallader, and took his place in the sky with his other chasers, Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle.
Mattheo stared daggers into the Hufflepuff team, occasionally taking his eyes off of them to look down at you. The game began and seemed to be like any other. Slytherin scored first, followed by Hufflepuff, then Hufflepuff again, and Hufflepuff again. Seeing your house team win put you in higher spirits, and you laughed with your best friend, as you cheered.
You smiled up at the players, even smiling at your boyfriend though quickly regretting so as you were met with a look of anger.
"And it's Zacharias Smith again for Hufflepuff, he's on a roll," yelled Lee Evans who was quick to support anyone who wasnt Slytherin, "And the Hufflepuff seeker has found the golden snitch and Hufflepuff win!! Wait, seems as though Riddle isn't too happy with that one."
The smile on your face was quickly wiped away, as were the feelings of joy to see your house win. You were now staring down at the pitch with wide eyes as Mattheo Riddle was single handedly throwing punches and spitting harsh words at both Smith and Cadwallader. You quickly brought your hands to your mouth, gasping in shock at the actions of your boyfriend. You had seen Mattheo in plenty of fights during your time at Hogwarts, but it was harder to watch now that you were in fact his girlfriend.
"Haha go on Cadwallader, tiny lad but he's finally landed a punch, and Smith lanky git," chuckled Evans as he commented on the spectacle that had everyone's attention, "Riddle is now joined by Malfoy and Nott who are not coming to fight but to pull him away. Awh, shame, I wanted to see a proper fight. Sorry, professor, definitely not supporting aggression in Quidditch. Ooh, Smith and Cadwallader look nasty, but they've finally taken Riddle off. Well, dragged him off. No one likes a sore loser, Mattheo mate."
You wanted to follow Mattheo into the dressing room and ask him a million question, well shout them at him, but you knew he'd only lash out at you. Mattheo had actually never spoken to you in any way other than calmly. Even back to before you had begun dating Mattheo was almost nice to you, but in his current state you knew best than to approach him.
After some time, you hesitated around the locker rooms if you should enter. Even if you had fought yesterday, you were his girlfriend and maybe he needed you. It seemed that the other players had all gone, and only Theodore and Mattheo were left. Just then, Theodore left the changing room.
"Oh hi y/n, you should definitely go see him." he nodded nonchalantly.
"Theodore, you know?" you managed to get out, though incredibly taken aback at his nod of acknowledgement.
"Oh, I always knew. Riddle told me way back when he had used to fancy you," he shrugged, "you should know what he did last night was shitty but he did have a go at everyone if that balances it out."
"He what?"
"Yeah, after he came back from your detention, he had a go at Malfoy. Said if he ever spoke about his girl again, he'd break his face." Theodore laughed, "He really likes you y/n, he's just a bit awkward with his feelings and words, not to mention incredibly insecure. Don't tell him I said that though."
"Thanks Theodore I won't, I'll go talk to him."
You walked into the Slytherin locker room cautiously. It was seemingly empty, but there in the corner was your boyfriend. Mattheo. He was sat shirtless hunched over the bench, his head in his hands. You walked closer to him to see his bare back covered in old bruises and scars. It hurt your heart to be reminded of the painful past he had to endure. Upon hearing your footsteps, he lifted his head, turning to face you.
"Hi." He whispered.
His face was covered in dried blood. His lip was cut, as well as his eyebrow, and you were sure he had had a nose bleed aswell.
"Oh, Mattheo." you whispered upon seeing him, wanting nothing more than to hold him and clean him up, "What happened?"
"It doesn't matter," he shrugged, "Are you here to break up with me?"
"Break up with you? Why would I do that?"
"Because look at me," he laughed, "I picked a fight with your friends."
You shook your head and made your way towards him, sitting down between his legs and holding his hands in yours.
"I don't care about them Mattheo I care about you. But I can't do anything about it if you push me away which is what it feels like."
"I know," he nodded, looking anywhere but at you. He seemed frustrated, "It's just stupid, I don't know how to say it."
"Just say words I'll put them together."
"You're too kind, princess," he shook his head, "I just got jealous when I saw you with your Hufflepuff friends. It's stupid. Reminds me of why I wanted to keep you, us a secret in the first place. And then I saw them today, and that tiny arse wanted to ask you out, and we were losing, and I lost it."
You brushed your fingertips over the bruises on his knuckles, again a million questions on your mind. You never knew why Mattheo wanted to keep the two of you a secret.
"You wanted to keep us a secret because you were ashamed of me because I'm in Hufflepuff?"
"What?" he said, clearly taken aback and confused by your words. His eyes finally met yours, "I wanted to keep us a secret because I'm ashamed of myself. Because how could I openly date you when you're so kind and pure and I'm me. Look at me. I got into a fight with two people just because they're your friends. I'm not right for you, y/n. I'm not what you deserve, I'm violent and aggressive."
"Mattheo? Stop it. Don't talk about yourself like that, please. I'm with you because I like you for you and I want to be with you. I don't see you the way you see yourself. This whole time, I thought you wanted us to be a secret because you were embarrassed to be dating me and didn't want your friends to see."
"Fuck my friends."
You laughed softly at him, "I wish you had just said this to me, everything could have been avoided."
"I know," he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "I'm not good with words."
"Theodore said."
"You spoke to Nott?"
"He told me you told Malfoy you'd break his face if he spoke to me again."
"I will. I'm so sorry angel for not defending you, I should have punched Malfoy right then and there."
"Maybe not so much physical violence."
"I'll work on it. But I messed up so much y/n, I don't know how to make this up to you. I shouldn't have let you think for one minute that I was ashamed of you. How could I be. You're beautiful inside and out, like an angel. You're too pure for this world, for me."
You smiled away at his words and his actions as he brought up a bruised hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. Leaning into press a kiss on your forehead.
"I'm perfect for you as you are for me. You can make it up to me by apologising to Smith and Cadwallader and then finally taking me on a proper date."
"Fine, I'll apologise to Smith, I know he's your friend, but absolutely not to Cadwallader, he wanted to ask my girlfriend out."
"He didn't know I was your girlfriend." you pointed out.
"Don't give a fuck, I'll make everyone aware now. But yes, I will take you on a date. I've never been on a date before, but I'll do some research."
You giggled at his words, leaning into press a kiss onto his lips. You wrapped your hands around his neck, going into deepen the kiss but his groans from beneath stopped you.
"Sorry did I hurt you."
"No, no," he shook his head, but the look of pain on his face said otherwise. You got up from the floor, holding a hand out for him to take.
He took it and again leaned into press a kiss onto your forehead when he stood up to tower of you.
You looked up at him with wide eyes as he brought up a calloused hand to caress your cheek. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."
You smiled sweetly at him as you rubbed the blood of his lips, "You can stare at my beautiful eyes as much as you want after we visit Madam Pomfrey."
"Can't wait my love."
"My love? That's a new one, I like it."
He shrugged nonchalantly, "It's the truth. You are my love. I love you."
And just then, you wanted to melt into his chest. You leaned up to press a soft peck, before replying, "I love you too."
"Don't think anyone has ever loved me before."
"They're missing out on so much, but at least this way I have you all to myself. Loving you is so easy when you're not being a jealous ass."
"Hah, I deserved that. Of course, princess, I'm all yours. Come with me to the hospital wing."
Hand in hand, you both left the locker room, making your way through the castle to the hospital wing. You received a few shocked looks from classmates, but one look from Mattheo, and they instantly turned away. You laughed at this, happy to see the effect of your scary boyfriend.
Both Smith and Cadwallader were in the hospital wing, getting treated for their various cuts and bruises. You couldn't see from afar before, but Riddle really laid into them.
You turned to Mattheo, nodding in their direction. He rolled his eyes but eventually made his way over to them.
"I really don't want to y/n, I've never apologised for a fight." he said on the way over.
"You can start now."
Upon seeing Riddle, both Hufflepuff players instantly sat up, though both looked incredibly surprised to see your hand locked with the Slytherin boys.
"Hi. So I'm sorry, Smith, for picking a fight with you. My girlfriend likes you, so I guess you're alright. I'm not sorry to you though Cadwallader, you wanted to ask my girlfriend out."
Neither one of the boys replied, only stared with their mouths agape.
"Well?" Riddle asked almost threateningly.
"Babe that's not really an apology."
"It's the best they're getting from me." he shrugged before going to sit on a spare bed waiting patiently for Madame Pomfrey.
"Sorry about him." you smiled.
"Its ok y/n, just a bit shocked you're dating."
You nodded and explained how the relationship began.
"I'm happy for you y/n, you deserve a boy who'd kill for you. Preferably not us but oh well." Zacharias eventually said.
"Yeah, y/n, please tell him I'm really sorry for saying I'd ask you out, jheez I had no idea."
"No, it's fine really, how could you have known."
You said your byes and made your way back to Mattheo, who was getting treated by Madam Pomfrey. Upon seeing you, he smiled and opened up the duvet, making way for you.
"You can stay till visiting hours are over." warned Madam Pomfrey.
"I'm sorry again y/n." he whispered once she left.
"Don't be," you said as you turned to rest your head on his chest, "I just wish you would have told me."
He brought up a hand to play with your hair.
"I know, princess, you're mine, dont know why I'd wanna keep that a secret."
"At least Snape will go easier on me now if he knows I'm dating a slytherin."
Mattheo laughed, "You're using me now for connections. Don't worry, my love, everyone will know we're dating, I'll scream it in the courtyard if you want me to."
"That'd be nice."
.
.
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