You Know What We Love In This House

Written

Pairing: Aomine Daiki x Reader

Warning(s): Cursing

Soulmate AU

Part 1 of ???

Authors Note: Once again, I am a simp.

"What... the fuck?" It was a whisper. Breathed like a soft prayer and not the distressed exclamation that it was.

"What the fuck?" You said with a bit more gusto, hands pressing into cheeks. The warmth flooding your body was making you almost nauseous.

You could see your thoughts starting to loop around the athletes body in your handwriting, uniquely light against his complexion. 'Why is he so pretty?' and 'For fucks sake.' being the first two you registered. And then your brain just... exploded.

'I bet his hair is so soft.'

'Do not think about how pretty his eyes are.'

'Since when do high schoolers have arms like that-- fuck!'

"Oh my God, Y/N." The panic and embarassment you were feeling must have been radiating, because Aida snorted out a laugh next to you as you hid your face in your hands.

"If I don't look at him it'll stop, right?" You asked desperately, and the tension from the match was momentarily broken as she cackled.

"I don't think that's how it works." You groaned at her teasing.

"Oi!" Your head jerked up, a screech building in your throat to see Aomine giving you an annoyed look from across the court.

"Can you relax? This is stupid distracting." He gestured vaguely to himself, apparently unbothered as the game carried on around him. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but drag your gaze up and down his form, biting your lower lip.

'It sure fucking is.' He looked down as the words scrawled out on his forearm, barking out a sound that resembled laughter and clearly fighting off a smirk as he rolled his eyes.

"Sorry!" You called out, a little hoarse and he scoffed.

》 Part Two

MORE THAN PRETEND 愛｡ fake relationship

𝖫𝖠𝖢𝒪𝖭𝖨𝖢───tired of playing pretend, they want to make it official with you

𝑜𝑓 ܃ fake bf!enhypen x f!r 2739 𝑤𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 headcannons fluff fake dating au ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 skinship kissing jealousy suggestive? ｡｡｡ ／ ( 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 )

૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა wow this could've been better, i rushed a lil TT but hope you guys enjoy ^^ !

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung’s always been the cool, nonchalant type—someone who can laugh off pretty much anything with that easygoing smirk of his. so, when one of your guy friends throws a casual arm around your shoulders during a group hangout, you expect heeseung to ignore it or joke in to the gossip, at least that's what he should do since you're not his real girlfriend. instead, he goes silent, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he watches the interaction with a clenched jaw.

the shift is subtle, but you know him too well. he doesn’t move from where he’s leaning against the wall, but the way his gaze follows your every move is unnerving.

“you good?” you ask, stepping closer after the gathering got over, and tugging lightly on his sleeve. his eyes snap to yours, and for a second, something almost dangerous flickers behind them before he masks it with a tight-lipped smile.

“yeah, i'm good.” his voice is flat, the usual playful tone gone. “didn't know you two were that close.”

you arch an eyebrow, tilting your head. “what, jealous?” you tease, hoping to break the tension, cracking him a smile.

heeseung lets out a humourless chuckle, his gaze sliding back to where your friend was standing. “of him? please.” the words are dismissive, but there’s a sharp edge underneath. heeseung finally pushes off the wall and closes the distance between you, his tall frame towering over yours as he dips his head down, his hand slowly caressing your upper hand. “but just so you know,” he murmurs lowly, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that only you can hear, “i’m your boyfriend, even if it’s fake. he doesn’t get to touch you like that.”

before you can respond, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. the way he holds you is different—no teasing, no joking, just a raw, simmering intensity that makes your heart race.

PARK JONGSEONG

calm and collected are two adjectives that can define jay the best, a total gentleman— a perfect choice to play your fake boyfriend, the best fake plus one for your uncle's wedding. but tonight, at the party, you see his mask slip. it’s subtle at first—the way his eyes harden when he spots you talking to some random guy by the drinks table, swiftly turning his head away. he doesn't think much of it until the guy leans in closer, saying something that makes you laugh.

that’s when jay moves. he’s at your side in an instant, so swift you down even realise his imposing presence as he slides an arm around your shoulders. “hey,” he says, his voice light but his grip firm. “who’s your new friend?”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanour. “oh, uh—a family friend,” you answer, a tight lipped smile, but jay’s gaze doesn’t leave the guy’s face.

“right.” his smile is strained, more of a baring of teeth than an expression of friendliness. the guy glances between you and jay, looking a bit uncomfortable before mumbling an excuse and walking away.

as soon as he’s gone, jay pulls you closer, his hand slipping down to your waist, fingers digging in ever so slightly, your back hitting his chest. “next time,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, hot breath travelling softly down to your neck, “just tell him you have a boyfriend—me.” his voice is low and intense, vibrating through you.

your heart skips a beat. “jay, it’s not—”

“real? yeah, i know,” he cuts you off, turning you to face him. his dark eyes bore into yours, darting across your face real quick, resring on your lips. “but i don’t care. i don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you,” he leans in even closer, his lips almost touching yours, “even if this is just pretend… you’re mine.”

SIM JAEYUN

the party is loud, laughter and music filling the air as you stand awkwardly by the punch table, watching jake from a distance. he’s talking to someone, a girl with long hair and a smile that lights up her face. his ex. you bite your lips, feeling a dull ache in your chest. it's silly—you’re not even really dating, but seeing him so at ease with her, leaning in to listen, his familiar grin in place, makes your heart clench, makes you feel it was you making his heart flutter instead.

they look like a perfect couple. a real couple, with real feelings for each other.

you turn away, trying to shake off the pang of insecurity by getting out of this place. but before you can slip out of sight, a familiar voice stops you.

“hey, what’s with the long face?”

you glance up, startled to find jake standing right in front of you, concern etched in his features. “n-nothing,” you mumble, forcing a smile. “just —felt out of place, i guess.”

jake’s gaze softens as if he can see right through your flimsy excuse. he steps closer, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a worry line that you hadn’t realised had formed. he leans in ever so close, “is it because of her?” he asks softly, nodding back toward his ex. when you don’t respond, he leans in, his eyes locking with yours. “you know she’s just the past, right?”

“but you looked so happy, jake! and we're not even—” “i’m only yours, you hear me?” he whispers fiercely, his fingers tightening around your waist, pulling you into him. “fake or not, you’re the one i want to be with.” his voice is low, almost pleading. “i’m not going anywhere.”

warmth blooms in your chest, melting away the doubts. and when he kisses your forehead gently, it’s like the final seal on his promise.

PARK SUNGHOON

the elevator doors slide shut, leaving just you and sunghoon in the small, enclosed space. his shoulders brush against yours, a stark reminder of how close you’re standing. you glance up at him nervously, noting the sharp line of his jaw and the tense set of his shoulders. why does he look so annoyed? he hasn’t said a word since you two left the event.

you press the button for your floor, stealing another look at him. he’s staring straight ahead, expression unreadable, but you can tell something’s different today. his jaw is clenched, his hands stuffed into his pockets, tension radiating from him.

it hits you then—he saw you talking to that guy earlier. your colleague from work, who’s been too friendly lately.

the elevator jolts slightly as it begins its ascent, and the silence stretches. you clear your throat, shifting nervously, taking a quick glance at his side profile, “sunghoon, about earlier—”

“does he always touch you like that?” his voice is low, cold even, cutting through the still air like a blade, face away from yours, looking straight ahead.

you blink, caught off guard by the question. “what?”

he turns to you, stepping closer until the space between you is almost nonexistent. “your ‘friend’ at the office,” he mutters, his eyes narrowing, leaning his head down as he loosens his tie. “he seemed too comfortable.”

you feel a flicker of heat rising in your chest—he’s jealous. But why? “sunghoon, it’s not—”

“i don’t care what you think it is.” his hand reaches out, gripping the side of the elevator wall beside your head, caging you in. his breath hitches as he leans in, his face just inches from yours. “we might be pretending, but i don’t like it when anyone else looks at you that way. you’re mine.”

the possessiveness in his voice sends shivers down your spine. your heart pounds as you try to process the sudden shift in his demeanour, the unspoken intensity in his eyes, the impossibly fast heartbeat of yours.

“we’re not real, remember?” you manage to whisper, though your body betrays you, leaning into the space between you two.

“then tell me,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. his fingers brush lightly against your waist, the touch sending shivers down your spine. “why does it hurt so much seeing another guy looking at you?”

you stare at him, mouth dry, as his eyes drop to your lips.

“i don’t want to pretend anymore,” he whispers, “please..” a desperate plea from his lips as his hands control itself to not pull you in, but you don't wait, and close the gap between your lips. and he pulls you closer, bodies clashing against each other as the kiss escalates. he smirks into the kiss, you're his for real now.

KIM SUNOO

it’s pouring rain, and you’re soaked to the bone, standing under a bus stop shelter that does little to keep you dry. you mentally curse yourself for forgetting your umbrella, shivering as the cold wind cuts through your drenched clothes. just when you think your day can’t get any worse, a familiar car pulls up beside the curb, headlights cutting through the downpour.

the passenger window rolls down, and there he is—kim sunoo, your ‘fake’ boyfriend, his brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and concern. “get in before you freeze,” he calls out, voice muffled by the sound of the rain.

you don’t need to be told twice. you scramble into the car, teeth chattering as you tug the door shut behind you. the warmth of the heater engulfs you instantly, and sunoo’s jacket is shoved into your hands before you can even register what’s happening. “you’re going to catch a cold,” he scolds, his voice laced with worry as he glances at your shivering form, “why didn't you call me?”

you blink up at him, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. “i … i didn’t want to bother you.”

sunoo sighs, leaning closer until you can see every droplet of rain clinging to his hair, every crease in his usually cheerful face. “idiot,” he murmurs, voice low and filled with something you can’t quite name. “you’re never a bother to me.”

your heart skips as he reaches out, brushing damp strands of hair away from your forehead with gentle fingers. his hand lingers, thumb tracing your chilled cheek softly.

for a moment, he’s quiet. then, he reaches over, wiping a raindrop from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, the gesture so gentle it makes your heart skip. “do you know how worried i was? pretend or not, i don’t want to see you like this,” he murmurs, his hand lingering near your face.

before you can respond, he leans over and tucks the jacket around your shoulders, pulling you close until you’re huddled against his chest and neck. “you’re mine to worry about,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, then one on the bridge of your nose.

in that moment, under the sound of rain and the warmth of his embrace, it doesn’t feel like an act anymore.

YANG JUNGWON

it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. the plan was rather simple—show up together at the dinner, play the perfect couple in front of his friends, and go home as usual. but then the storm hit, trapping you at his apartment afterward, the rain pouring down outside in heavy sheets, drenching the city.

jungwon sits beside you on the couch, the dim glow of the lamp casting shadows across his sharp features, and you force yourself to look away. his jacket is discarded on the floor, sleeves rolled up as he runs a hand through his damp hair, frustrated by the turn of events. he looks too handsome right now.

it’s quiet, too quiet, with only the sound of rain tapping against the windows.

“looks like you’re stuck here,” he says, leaning back casually, but there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore. you tug the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to stay calm, but the warmth of the apartment and the intimacy of the moment is starting to make you nervous.

“i'll crash on the couch,” you mutter awkwardly, avoiding his gaze, but jungwon’s eyes are on you, piercing, like he’s studying every inch of your face. he doesn’t say anything at first, but then he moves closer, his knee brushing against yours, you shiver.

“you don’t have to,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver through you. his hand rests lightly on your knee, but it’s enough to make your heart race. “you can take the bed.”

before you can respond, jungwon cups your chin gently, turning your face toward his. his touch is soft but firm, like he’s been holding back for too long. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch, as his as well.

“we don’t have to pretend all the time, you know,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something real, “it's getting so hard for me…”

your heart skips a beat, and suddenly the fake relationship feels far too real. “jungwon, what are you saying?” you ask, your voice trembling as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, hands falling down to your waist to pull you closer.

“i'm saying,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours, “that i want to kiss you, but in a real boyfriend way, and love you too while at that.”

the rain continues to fall outside, but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart as his lips brush softly against yours, the kiss gentle but full of unspoken emotions, before it quickly melts to an intense one. he pulls away slightly, his breath mingling with yours as he whispers, “stay with me tonight… for real.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

you never expected to find yourself in a fake relationship with riki, of all people—the energetic, mischievous older brother of your best friend. when he overheard you venting about your annoying ex constantly showing up at your favourite hangouts, he had put up a sly smirk and volunteered to be your fake boyfriend.

“think of it as a win-win. i get to mess with people’s heads, and you get a human shield. plus,” he had said, winking playfully, “it’ll be fun.”

you should’ve known that riki’s idea of ‘fun’ involved way more than you’d bargained for.

tonight, at your favourite late-night café, you spot your ex walking in, scanning the crowd. you freeze, heart thudding. before you can react, riki slides his arm around your shoulders, tugging you close. his scent—a mix of citrus and something else uniquely him—makes your pulse spike. it’s only for show, you remind yourself. except … he’s suddenly so convincing.

“hey, baby, you okay?” riki’s voice is loud enough to catch your ex’s attention, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. he leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath tickling your ear. “you’re all tense.”

you fight the shiver that runs down your spine. “stop playing around,” you mutter, but he just smirks.

“i’m not playing,” he murmurs back, eyes twinkling. his gaze flicks toward your ex, who’s now glaring at you both, and riki’s grip tightens around you possessively. “i told you i’m the best at this.”

the next thing you know, riki’s turning you slightly in his arms, cupping your cheek in a way that looks so natural it makes your heart skip. the café lights catch on the gleam in his eyes—intense, focused. your ex is staring daggers at him now, but riki pays him no mind. instead, his thumb brushes your jaw softly, his face hovering inches from yours.

“relax, would you?” he murmurs, but his voice has lost its teasing edge. there’s something almost… protective in the way he’s watching you.

“riki —” you start, but he cuts you off by leaning even closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “let me handle this.”

before you can process his words, he pulls you flush against him, his eyes never leaving your ex’s face. then, with a cocky grin, he dips his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple.

you freeze, heart pounding. when he finally pulls back, his gaze meets yours, unreadable. “there,” he says softly, still holding you close. “you’re mine now. got it?” and from the look on his face, you’re not entirely sure he’s pretending anymore.

© BYWONS, 2024 / do not copy or repost without permission / div cr plutism

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four looks. four major houses. one weekend. (L-R:) ZENDAYA in Versace, Valentino, Prada and Armani thank you for keeping us fed, queen!

they should’ve been in the barbie movie

is anyone else so sad and sobbing and crying and in tears and in crisis and weeping

🐼 🧘🏻‍♀️ 🤺

all for the sake of throne — psh (m)

pairing: king!sunghoon x queen!reader

genre: explicit, royalty au, marriage au, not minor friendly

synopsis: as a king, sunghoon was perfect. He was intelligent, kind, confident — basically everything a woman would want, not to mention how great he was in bed as the cherry on top. But why did his wife seemed to disagree? Did she really hate him or was it all an act? Sunghoon didn’t know, but he was for sure sick of hiding his feelings.

warnings: dom!king hoon, he’s a little annoying but in a hot way, lovers in denial, hint of e2l, small plot, bathtub s*x, unprotected s*x, mentions of kitchen s*x, cute love confession at the end, this is mostly cute imo

word count: 2.7k

note: this is practically my version of the even days on Queen Charlotte, enjoy 🫰🏼

Let’s get over with it, you thought to yourself, standing before the glorious gates of the king’s room as you pushed them open, walking inside with a confidence that was half fake. 

You did not like doing this, not one bit, yet you weren’t given the luxury of making your own decisions. 

After all you had one task — birthing a new heir for the throne, it couldn’t be that hard now could it? 

However it was, it really was hard with a person like him — with a person who’s not only a know it all but also as stubborn as a goat. 

Gosh, he was so annoying with his stupidly handsome face and no, you did not care if it was a treason to call him that. 

But the hardest part wasn’t the fact that you had to perform the “marital act” with him every other day on even days of the week, it was the fact that you had to hide that you actually liked it and that you were not being pretentious. 

Why the hiding, you wonder? Because he was a jerk, a great king for his nation, true, but a trashy husband to you. And if you were supposed to age together, he had to improve, whether he liked it or not. 

Which was why you were determined to get on his nerves just as much as he did to yours, thinking that it could make him question his perfect self, maybe for the sake of his marriage. 

And well, given that he also was tired of hiding his feelings for you, that sly plan of yours seemed to have hope. 

“We’re supposed to spend the night together.” You said as you stood before the bathtub that Sunghoon, who happened to be the mentioned king and husband, was bathing in, “It’s an even day today.” 

Oh yeah, right, even day, he thought as he eyed you up and down, lips curling up to a smug smirk which dictated the fact that he liked your nightgown. 

You looked astonishing, just like how you always did. 

It was really a shame that he won’t be telling you that though, since you were treating him as if he was your enemy ever since your first morning together, making him wonder what he did so wrong. 

I mean, you were newly wedded, both of you had given consent for this marriage so what was the issue? Why were you so mean to him? 

He honestly didn’t have a clue, but it was true that his patience was running out thanks to you, and your cute little grumpy face. 

“Leave us.” He ordered at the young man, his servant, who was standing by the door. 

As the young man followed his command, you slipped out of your slippers, trying to untie the knot above the tiny buttons of your gown to take it off of you, but failing miserably despite your continuous attempts. 

“Just get in.” Sunghoon bluntly spoke, eyes looking somewhat amused as he laid in the tub clothless, his muscular body full on display before you. 

Yes he was unbearable as a person, but let’s be honest, he was hot as hell — maybe even hotter thanks to his cockiness. 

Without rejecting, you did as you were told, stepping inside the warm water, letting it wet the long skirt of your gown as you kneeled in between his legs. 

He didn’t resist your touch once you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, lips resting merely an inch away from each other as you both sighed with expectation. 

He was the one that closed the unnecessary gap, pushing his plump lips that you secretly really liked kissing on yours. 

You leaned over as you kissed him back, placing your legs on both sides of his thighs, letting him pull you on his manhood with the grasp he had on your waist. 

He was eager, so eager, and why did you enjoy that? 

It felt like you were both in a rush to feel each other, almost as if you were doing this out of love and not because you were forced by the elders, aka his mom and her useless council of lords. 

Well, calling this love would be bold but one thing was for sure, and it was that no power in the world could force either of you into doing something you didn’t like. 

So yeah, despite the fact that none of you admit it, the even days of the week were for sure your favorite. 

The way you both hissed once his tip brushed over your entrance was a living proof of that as you broke the kiss for a brief second, wanting to take a look at his handsome face. 

He was frowning, biting his lips as you sank down on him, taking him more and more gradually until there was nothing left outside. 

Ugh that feeling — the feeling of him filling you up to the max, it was freaking perfect. 

His hands were now roaming on your body, caressing your back and playıng with your breasts over the thin fabric that weighed on you. 

He groaned once you started to rock your hips on his, digging his nails into your skin almost as if he was trying to leave a mark behind. 

The way you squeezed him tightly with your warmth was one thing, he was in love with it, true, but what drove him insane was the look on your face — the look of pure pleasure as you began to ride him, mouth gaping open to leave the most beautiful whimpers he has ever heard. 

Ugh seriously, how dare you could be so attractive when you were so rebellious? He couldn’t stand that, you know? 

You truly deserved a punishment for that, queen or not. 

Placing both hands on your hips, he led you into a faster pace, all the while sneakily making his way back to your lips, enclosing them with his needy ones. 

God he hated you, he hated to feel so needy for you, he hated the fact that he was burning for you while you treated him like shit, causing him to go mad all alone with the thoughts of you spiraling inside his mind. 

But he loved you, he loved you so much that he was enduring it for you, pretending to be okay with it all — pretending to be only doing this for the sake of the throne. 

Whereas he didn’t even care for an heir, not a single bit, no, he was just lying to not give you the upper hand. 

Because how could he just confess his wild love for you when you were complaining about how bothering it was to have him breathing in the rooms of your palace just the other day? 

Yeah, it was true that you made up for yourself after that with how you let him fuck you on the dinner table but let’s be honest, it was still really rude, even for you. 

He couldn’t just forget about that, could he? 

But honestly, he sort of really wanted to, especially when all he cared about was the way you made him feel every time he touched you, every time he made you his and every time he filled you up with his seeds — just like how he was about to do right now. 

“Close,” you mumbled, arching your back as you let your head fall behind, your lips separating from his to expose more of your gorgeous neck for him, “I'm close, do not slow down.” 

He scoffed, speechless at the audacity you had then again. You were giving orders to the king himself without a single care in the world, surely you were a mad woman, maybe as mad as him even. 

Or maybe you were his perfect match, just like his servant pointed out the other day. 

Giving a light squeeze to your buttocks, he trailed his hands on your body, reaching to your neck to wrap his hands around it. He didn’t forget to fondle your tıts on his way there, loving the way they were perfectly fitting in his palms. 

After his long fingers were placed tightly around your throat, he pulled you down, speaking against your lips before he kissed them, “You can be a lady for once and ask for it kindly, you know,” he whispered, sarcastic with his tone, “it won’t kill you, I promise.” 

“Please,” you replied, which was enough to surprise him as he froze in his spot, suddenly gulping down was an unmanageable task at the sound of your whiny request, “just don’t slow down, please.” 

Shaking his head, he tried to break the spell you just unknowingly casted on him, “See,” he cleared his throat, pretending his best to seem unbothered, “it was not that hard now, was it my queen?”  

“It was, actually,” you disagreed, pecking his lips with a shit eating grin on your face, “my heart almost stopped as I was saying the p word, my king.” 

He giggled, biting his lips as he moved closer to give you a proper kiss, his tongue melting on yours once he poked it inside your mouth.

Although the conversation between you could be called cute, his thrusts and his kisses couldn't be included in the same category. 

Guess he isn’t such a gentleman when it comes to making love, you thought, secretly enjoying this side of him. 

And by the passing second, he only became more and more aggressive, the pressure in between your legs increasing a crazy amount with every push of his hips. 

“Sunghoon ..” you called out for him in between sloppy kisses, struggling to keep yourself on your knees with the way they trembled. 

“I know, do not worry,” he whispered, feeling the same way as you, desperately craving his high, almost like a teen boy, “I won’t stop until you’re there, I promise.” 

And oh dear God, the list of things that he could sacrifice over the way you kissed him right now, it had no limit. 

This was the first time he’s seen you being so needy, so passionate and so defenseless with him that he couldn’t help but to wonder if the whole “I hate your existence” thing that you got going on with him was fake. 

Perhaps you were pretending just like him, but what for?

Now that he thought about it, maybe he hasn’t been a good husband to you and maybe — that was the reason behind your small riots. 

If that was the case, then there was hope for your marriage, which without a doubt was all he asked for.

For sure you had your reasons to be beefing with him, I mean he had many faults towards you — like leaving you all alone at the first night of your marriage just so he could ‘observe the stars’ in his private observatory, but in the bigger picture it really was not his fault either. 

He was raised to be a king, to be perfect, to be a scientist, to be a role model — not to be a husband unfortunately, and that hasn’t been a problem until after you’ve arrived.

Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t complaining, it was just that your existence near him changed more than he thought. 

First of all it changed him and it really was harder than you could guess to adjust.

Just a few days back he was a young boy who did not care for anything else besides the planet Venus, yet today the only thing that he was thinking about was you, and what he could do to impress you, in hopes of making you hate him less.  

So to put it shortly, he just needed some time to make everything perfect, that was all. 

It was your pretty voice what pulled him out of his trans as you were calling for the name of god after his. Your body was collapsed on his, your arms wrapped around his neck while you were panting against his ear, putting your last drop of energy to your legs in order to be able to keep on bouncing upon him. 

“Shhh, you’re alright,” he whispered as he hugged your waist, taking some weight off your tired knees as he helped you with your movements using his strong arms, leading you up and down repeatedly, “I’ve got you y/n, it’s alright.” 

“I’m … I-I think I’m …” 

“Do it.” he cut your words, lips landing endless kisses on your neck as his grip tightened. His face was buried on your skin while he was trying to focus on his nearing high, hoping to arrange it at the same time with yours. 

And he was successful with it, the seeds of your future generation spilling from his thick shaft into you, filling you up all good like your previous times.

Neither of you were quiet with your climaxes as you both groaned and sighed, hands all over each other, desperately searching for a space to hold on. 

“Are you well?” he managed to utter after a while later, all breathless as he rested his face on your shoulders. You seemed just as exhausted as him, he could tell it from the way your heart was beating. 

Yes, it was so loud that he could hear it, wasn’t that so cute?

“Mhm, I’m .. uhh .. fine.” you replied, forcing out your words with your half closed eyes, trying to remove yourself from where you were sitting on top of Sunghoon with your weak arms. “I should leave you .. um, good night.”

Now that you were done with each other, it was time that you left, right? I mean, It wasn’t like you had any good reasons to stay anyway. 

Well, it looked like Sunghoon did not agree with you, not in the slightest bit. 

“Wait — ” he stopped you, raising his head from where it was resting on your chest to look you in the eyes. And your eyes, lord, they were so beautiful. “Don’t leave tonight, just stay,” he said, using his kindest tone, “please, y/n, I’m asking you.”

“But — ”

“No buts,” he shushed you, caressing your lips with his thumb as he pressed it on them, “enough with this cold war between us, let us put an end to it already, yeah?” 

You were left tongue-tied at his sudden offer, fluttering your lashes a few times as you observed his face. He was serious — sincere even, you could sense it with your heart, which was a first.

Were you surprised? hell yes, but this was a good thing. 

He was trying to show that he was willing to take the first step for you and needless to say, it was as impressive as it was cute. He was probably freaking out on the inside, hoping miserably for you to take a step towards him as well, so that the unbearable gap between you two would vanish. 

Clearing your throat, “Yeah,” you hummed, nodding your head,  “I’d love that.” 

“And no more even days or odd days,” he added, wrapping his arms around you even stronger, wanting to give you no space in case you tried to run away, “we shall have all of our days like this, together.”

Failing to stop your curiosity from getting the best of you, “But why now?” you asked. 

I mean this was sweet and all, like who wouldn’t want peace with their husband but, what happened out of nowhere? You wanted to know, you had to know so you repeated yourself,  “Why the change now?” 

“Because I want my wife every day of the week, regardless of the date,” he answered, his eyes never leaving yours as they burned a hole through your soul, “I love her too much to let another day go to waste without her near me, that’s why.”

Wait, did you hear that right? Did he just tell you that he — ohmygod, did he just confess?

“Y-you … you love me?” 

“I’m crazy about you, my queen,” he approved, a beautiful smile spreading all over on his handsome face as he leaned in to steal your breath with his lips once again before he whispered, 

“I’m as crazy as a mad dog for you, if only you could see.”

© hee-pster on tumblr, do not plagiarize.

je t’aime.

➞ pairing: best friend!heeseung x gn!reader.

➞ prompt/type of au: “ah, pretty, why are you blushing this hard? all i did was say ‘i love you’ in french.”

➞ genre: fluff. kinda bff2l implied?? shrugs.

➞ w.c: 0.8k words.

➞ tw: one (1) swear word. heeseung being flirty (heeseung himself is a big warning…)

ela says💬: happy v-day! this is so self-indulgent like,, the chokehold this man has on me?? impressive. anyways, this is small, but i hope you like it nonetheless^^ / feedback is always welcomed and deeply appreciated<3

DAY 1 OUT OF 7 — the season of love. ♡

“Y/n! Can you come here for a second?” Your best friend’s voice echoes through your shared apartment, so accommodating some dishes you just finished washing and drying inside the cupboard, you turn around and start making your way towards him.

“Coming!”

Entering Heeseung’s room, you see him sitting right beside his desk on his office’s chair, a small, mischievous smile adorning his pretty lips. His dirty-blonde hair is sticking everywhere, but it makes him look so cute under the dimmed lights of the place. He’s wearing that damned sleeveless white top he hasn’t let go since he bought it, and you wouldn’t admit it out loud because you knew you would be targeted to endless teasing, but he looked really good (but it’s Lee Heeseung we’re talking about here, he always looked good with everything), and his reading glasses are perched on his pretty upturned nose. There’s plenty of notebooks thrown around along with books on his work table, his laptop placed right in the middle of the chaos, a word document opened and displaying thousands of words, of what you assume, is his homework.

“What’s up, Hee?” You walk to him to pat his head in an endearing way, making him giggle a little. Sitting on the corner of his bed, you give him a curious stare, making him bite the inside of his cheek at your cute face.

Heeseung clears his throat, pointing behind his shoulder and towards his laptop. “I was doing my french homework, mind me if I practice some words with you?”

The boy gets closer to you after you shake your head in a negative manner, muttering under your breath a small confirmation, “go ahead.” Heeseung takes this as a cue to get closer, since he was now a few meters away from you. You could feel that familiar warmness exuding from his frame, the faint smell of his musky cologne filling your senses and making your head start to feel dizzy.

The boy gets a soft hold of your hand so he can start playing around with your fingers absentmindedly, while he looks you dead in the eye with something between the lines of playfulness and child-like feeling hiding behind his pretty brown orbs.

“Bonjour,” he starts, tilting his head a little in expectation at your answer. Laughing, you nod your head. You would be lying if you said you were an expert in knowing a different language, barely managing to speak your mother tongue in a not-so perfect manner, but you weren’t that clueless, so of course you knew what that word meant.

“Bonjour.”

You repeat his greeting nonchalantly, and Heeseung giggles once again, flashing his beautiful smile at you. Being so entranced by his natural beauty, you don’t even notice him getting much closer than before, knees brushing against the other, one of his hands ghosting over your thigh as he tries his best to keep a neutral face.

“Mon amour,” Heeseung whispers in a soft manner, his gaze never leaving yours as he brings your hand closer to his face. “Je t’aime.”

Then, he does the unimaginable: Heeseung leaves an endearing kiss right on your knuckles while never breaking the eye contact with you, making your breath hitch in your throat and thousand butterflies erupt in your stomach at the simple, but lovely action.

There’s a silence that keeps prolonging itself the more the two of you just stare at each other, the dimmed lights not allowing you to seize in his reactions.

Before you can open your mouth to question him further about what the fuck happened just seconds ago, the boy starts chuckling, letting go of your hand (you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling disappointed at this) and getting a hold of chin with his pointer and thumb fingers.

“Ah, pretty, why are you blushing this hard?” The boy says as he tries his best to fight back the smirk that was threatening to form on his face, a teasing tone lingering behind his words. “All I did was say “I love you” in french.”

You felt like choking with your own air at hearing that. Playing it down with clearing your throat, you scoff at him as you look away from his stupidly attractive face.

“Fuck off!— Don’t do that. Stop.”

Heeseung gives you another boyish laugh, “don’t do what, exactly? Do I stop calling you pretty? Or… Do I stop telling you ‘I love you’ in french?”

You don’t answer him, but it’s still enough of a reply for him when you try to play it down by rolling your eyes.

Standing up, the boy walks to you and leaves a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. You hear him mutter something along the lines of “you’re so cute,” and then, he turns around and starts walking towards the kitchen, sparing you the aftermath you were probably feeling because of the small interaction you just had (and to also calm down the erratic beating of his heart at his sudden boldness.)

Heeseung knew what he was doing, of course he knew the effect he had on you.

It made him happy to know that there was some kind of hope for the silent feelings he has held for you for so long now.

PERMANENT TAGLIST (bold can’t get tagged): @pshchives @squiishymeow @hqrana @wonielvr @sunoksunny @chaerybombs @strwberrydinosaur @reinahwanggg @stepout-09-15 @ahnneyong @j-wyoung @yjjungwon @ghostiiess @boowoowho @taejays @ddenoudepression @peachenle @ja4hyvn @julyy07 @sunoosult (if you’re interested in joining, send me an ask or fill this form)

nonsense — pt 2 (s.jy)

SUMMARY: previously, jake asked you to teach him how to properly use his big dick. the lesson doesn’t exactly go as planned… PAIRING: bestfriend/roommate!jake x reader (afab) GENRE: smut (minors dni) WARNINGS: smut, size/bulge kink, dacryphilia, masochism/mentions of pain from penetration(?), unprotected sex (pls use protection) WORD COUNT: 1.9k A/N: sorry for the wait but it’s finally here, also apologies for the messy pacing and abrupt ending i seriously had no motivation to finish this lol

read part 1 here

You spent the next week on edge, tiptoeing around the apartment. A part of you hoped there wouldn’t be any awkwardness or tension after you practically pounced on him, crossing the barrier that best friends, and roommates especially, weren’t supposed to. But you were foolish to assume that once Jake came down from his high, he wouldn’t start avoiding you at all costs.

It was painfully obvious. He would come home late at night, only coming to the kitchen to eat while you were in the shower, and locking himself in his room until you left for class the next morning. You couldn’t help but assume he regretted what happened, and you felt an ugly twist in your stomach at the thought that he didn’t enjoy any of it, or worse, that you had pressured him into the act. 

You were quietly cracking open the door to your bedroom, wanting to quickly grab something from the kitchen when the door to Jake’s room, directly across from yours, also opened. You stopped in your tracks, making brief eye contact with him before you were directing your gaze to the floor. If he hadn’t seen you, you probably would’ve closed the door and crawled back into your room.

The pounding of your heart was ringing in your ear. As much as you hated confrontation, you hated the idea of walking on eggshells around your own damn roommate and best friend. The least you both could do was talk it out, deem it a one-time mistake and try to forget about it. You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut, leaning against the doorframe.

“Fuck it,” you breathed out. “About last week…”

“Yeah,” he was blurting out before you could even continue. 

You were looking up at him now. He was fresh out of the shower, hair wet and towel wrapped around his neck. Droplets of water forming at the ends of his hair were beginning to fall beside his bare feet from his prolonged stance in the same position. He didn’t miss the way your eyes trailed along the veins that ran up his bare arms. 

You tore your eyes away from his body to make eye contact with him, mentally cursing at yourself for feeling more and more turned on as the seconds passed. However, while you expected him to look anxious or flustered, you found him looking at you with an unreadable expression, almost similar to how he watched you last week, with you on your knees in front of him and his hands buried in your hair. 

You were unconsciously rubbing your thighs together and shifting uncomfortably on your feet from his intense stare. A sudden wave of confidence washed over you before you were closing your own door and striding into Jake’s, pulling him with you by his bicep. The familiar lights from his PC gave you a sense of deja vu. 

He tore your grip off him from behind you. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered. You winced, thinking you had misread his intentions and were in the middle of making a fool of yourself.

Jake, on the other hand, was panicking over his inability to exert self control and how you’d react if you found out that he touched himself every night this week to the mental image of your pretty lips wrapped around him.

But it was Jake this time who was mouthing fuck it before he closed the gap between you, hands coming up to grab at the sides of your face and press his lips against yours. You audibly sighed into his mouth before you were a mess of tangled limbs in the sheets, clothes strewn in a trail leading from the door to his bed.

Jake tried his best not to ogle at your bare chest, instead looking down at his own cock, standing tall and proud against his abdomen.

You gaped, reminded of just how big he was.

Jake stopped his movements upon sensing your hesitance, wanting to make sure this was something you wanted and that he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. He was kneeling on the bed, boxers thrown to the floor while you were lying flat, a pillow under your head.

“I, uh, I’ve never been able to get it in,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish look.

You threw your head back in laughter. “You mean, like, you couldn’t find her hole?” The thought of virgin Jake hopelessly struggling amused you, yet your heart softened at just how inexperienced he seemed.

He winced at your comment, softly chuckling as he shook his head. “No, like I could never fit it in with other girls before.”

Oh. You didn’t even realize that was an actual problem people had. Did that technically make him a virgin still? 

You sat up on your elbows, heart racing at the implication. “What the hell makes you think I can take it, then?”

His eyes widened and he immediately shifted lower on the bed to pull at your underwear, ready to prep you. For some reason, he just assumed you’d be able to take him since you were experienced. He truly had no idea how big he was.

Your underwear was hooked just above your knees as he reached out, dragging two fingers up your folds to collect your arousal and bringing it to his lips. His tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he licked at his digit, moaning in the process. 

You pulled him by the wrist, his fingers reluctantly leaving his mouth. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna finger you first, needa stretch you out,”

“N-no, I can take it.”

“But you just said—”

“I said I can take it.”

The sudden thrill of a challenge, to see whether you were capable of taking all of him, sent a shiver down your spine. 

He stared at the wet patch on the front of your underwear, running his index finger along it. “I wanna eat you out, though,” his lips in a pout. “You taste so good,” he was whining, eyes fixated on your glistening, leaking core.

Your heart did a somersault. “We have all the time in the world for that, Jake,” you couldn’t help but smile. “But I need you inside me— now,” you muttered, your expression quickly turning into one of sultry desperation.

“F-fuck, okay.”

His knees shifted forward as he aligned the head of his cock with your sopping cunt, pushing in at an excruciatingly slow pace. You feel like you’re being torn apart in the most delicious way, the stretch addicting and your mouth falls open at the sensation. You’re usually not great with pain, but you know it’ll all be worth it once Jake starts thrusting into you.

He finally bottomed out on top of you, a shaky breath releasing from his lips. You mentally thanked yourself for choosing this position, knowing very well that you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you were on top. Jake’s eyes were squeezed shut, a visible sheen of sweat across his forehead.

He was embarrassed to tell you directly, but with it being Jake’s first time, it was taking everything in him to not pull out and slam back into you. He wasn’t sure how long he could stay like this, your walls clamping onto him for dear life. 

You swore you could feel him in your stomach. He was pulling out before you could complain, leaving just the tip in so he could compose himself and relieve some of the pain he assumed you were in. A whine left your lips, protesting as you hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him back inside you. He sobbed out a cry of your name, bottoming out again and hiding his face in your neck.

Your slick was doing wonders to aid his cock in and out of you. He licked and nipped between your collarbones as he kept a somewhat consistent pace, his cock nearly slipping out from your wetness each time he pulled back. Lifting his head from the crook of your neck, he peered down at you through hooded eyes, watching as you mumbled mindlessly.

“S-so full, mmph, need—ah, Jake, need you to fill me up, oh f-fuck y-yeah that’s it, harder!” Every word of yours was interrupted by a rhythmic, sharp thrust, causing you to inch back toward the headboard.

He chewed on his bottom lip, mesmerized at the sight of you falling apart on his cock. 

“So perfect, such a perfect cock…” your voice came out in a purr. You were saying it mostly to yourself, yet Jake couldn’t help but moan out at how affected he was by your praise.

“Y/N, I-I t-thought you were gonna teach me, fuck,” he groaned, hips snapping at an increasing pace.

You shook your head, apologetic whines leaving your lips. There was nothing to teach him, at least nothing you could teach him in the state you were currently in. 

The sight of you struggling, falling apart on his cock with tears of pleasure threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes, and the way your cries are beginning to sound more and more desperate brings him to full consciousness, awakening a sudden desire in him.

“Then take it back,” he grunted, 

“Huh?” you were mumbling, eyes barely able to stay open.

“Take it back, what you said about not knowing how to use my dick,”

Your breath hitched at his sudden boldness and change of demeanor.

“Say it,”

You gulped down any remaining pride. “J-Jake, fuck, you’re so s-so good with your cock,” you whined. Technically, you were speaking the truth, but you liked it more when he didn’t know how good he was. You liked your boys a little dumb.

“I’m sorry, ‘n I-I take it back,” you mumbled. Jake let out a squeaky moan at your words. You removed your hands that were clawing at his back to pinch at your nipples while you squirmed under him, and he had to close his eyes again to keep himself from cumming.

His pace was faltering from his enthusiastic thrusts, completely lost in his own pleasure and your needy expressions. Reaching down to thumb at your neglected clit with the limited knowledge he had from previous experiences, he noticed a slight bulge against your skin. 

You were writhing underneath him and he angled his hips upward with another experimental thrust, completely hypnotized by the view of his tip protruding right beneath your belly button. You let out a broken cry at the feeling, your climax building rapidly and waves of ecstasy washing over you as your walls spasmed from the combination of his fingers working against your clit and the weight of him pressing down on his bulge through your lower stomach. 

Just as he was impressing himself at how long he’d managed to last, he’s being made aware of your notable size difference. It felt like he was filling you to the hilt with just half his cock pumping in and out of you. With one last clench around him as you began to come down from your high, he was spilling into you with a strained groan of your name, your tight cunt milking him dry.

Marianela Nunez and Vadim Muntagirov in The Nutcracker (Royal Ballet 2018)