#hooni

[pyromaniac9]

Hooni lee cute 🥺💔🖤

[imeddhead]

[max0nline]

[hooniposting]

hat hooni looking pretty

IM SO SORRY I HAVENT BEEN POSTING ANYTHING. I STILL THINK ABOUT HOONI ALL THE TIME hi

[ricellama]

[ghost-cwunch]

Im so funny laugh now

[staygoldralph]

some hooni scribbles

[alexknutsonart]

Hooni.

[purplexblossom]

Weirdcore Lee Hooni wallpaper

laptop wallpaper of 1080x1080px

I made another one, but I can't find it:(

also the manhwa was so sad yall! I feel like reading it again tho. (this was not recent btw)

[loveyni]

sunghoon is for ,,,

heeseung • jay • jake • sunghoon!! • sunoo • jungwon • ni-ki

a/n. aaa my hoon (∩˃o˂∩)♡ enjoy<3 this might be another self callout post idk!! and i see ur reqs!! jaeyun may or may not be released next ^^

୨୧₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩⋆ ──

sunghoon is for those who are fascinated by snow. particularly in the way that it falls so delicately and blankets everything in a shimmery white.

sunghoon is for those who become hush during outings because they forget that everyone else can’t hear their stream of consciousness.

sunghoon is for those seek solace in song lyrics that hit too close to home, almost repeating them like mantras (tell me about your niche playlists!!).

sunghoon is for those are loud and hyper around their closest friends because there’s no need to maintain the rigid image they have curated for themselves.

sunghoon is for those who are highly ambitious, often discouraged when they aren’t immediately skilled at something (how could you be perfect on the first try? you’ll get more chances as long as you allow yourself them ^^).

sunghoon is for those who are often reminded to raise their voices because they speak too softly (who made you feel so small?).

sunghoon is for those who find it difficult to communicate their struggles, resorting to internalizing to them instead.

sunghoon is for those who should worry much less about what others think of them because their perception of you is not your responsibility.

── ୨୧₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩⋆

[max0nline]

[ricellama]

[eneiyri]

anyone who hates on him was probably dropped on the head as a baby

[b1mbodoll]

pairings: park sunghoon x f! reader

warnings: himbo! hoon + thigh fucking + pussyjob + mandhandling / strength kink

💌: no thoughts at all just dumb needy hoon

speaking of himbos… freeuse with himbo! sunghoon who gets hard just from seeing you walkin around in a short skirt.

he catches glimpses of your panties as you move about, biting his lip when you unknowingly flash him and he does his best to leave you alone, not wanting to ruin yet another pair of your panties or your new skirt. he averts his gaze when you bend over or simply get up from the couch, knowing that if he sees your clothed cunt again he won’t be able to stop himself.

but sunghoon’s too worked up, his empty brain suddenly full of thoughts regarding you; how he wants to tear your outfit off and stretch your hole with his thick cock, wants to see your pretty makeup ruined from your tears and drool as he’s rearranging your insides.

you begin to get up once again, but this time sunghoon grabs your arm roughly; his muscled arms flexing as he drags you to your shared bedroom and shoves you onto the bed, forcing your hips up and flipping your skirt to get a clear view of the damp spot on your panties.

“why’re you wet, princess?” he questions before rubbing your pussy over the fabric, salivating as your arousal leaks the spot grows larger.

pressing your thighs together you try to gather your thoughts only to squeal when he brings a heavy hand down on your clit, burying your face in the mattress.

“answer me, pretty.” pouts sunghoon. “‘cause of you, hoonie!” another slap to your cunt. “like it w-when you manhandle me ‘nd touch me like this,” you sigh.

he doesn’t bother replying, nor does he pull your panties off; instead choosing to tug them to the side and free his cock, grinding his hips to glide his cock against your folds and between your thighs.

he pushes and pulls, lazily humping you. obscenely wet sounds fill the room and then you hear his breathy voice, strained from trying to hold off his orgasm. “help me out, doll. squeeze your thighs tighter f’me.”’

you obey, struggling to cross your legs in order to clamp around him harder; but it seems to work, his pace quickens and his tip steadily leaks precum, bumping your clit every now and then which causes your mouth to fall open, quiet moans like music to sunghoon’s ears.

pleasure courses through your veins when a particularly hard thrust from hoon results in his cockhead slipping inside your needy hole, the split second enough to trigger your climax and your cream coats his length. the slick sounds are louder now, and your boyfriend cums soon after, globs of his white semen clinging to the hem of your skirt, some of it even spurting onto the bed.

[fluffiematcha]

woozi x fem. reader ( husband & wife ) fluff, pregnancy au

warnings : food, english isn't my mothertongue

“how is it?”

“it’s so so good! the richness of the taste, the spices which combine perfectly and...” jihoon smiles proudly but tenderly seeing you eat with such enthusiasm.

cooking for you was quite difficult during the early stages of your pregnancy. the smell was either too strong for your sense of smell or you had no appetite at all due to morning sickness.

but that was before. cooking meals for you is now his favorite hobby, even if sometimes your ideas are a little crazy. seeing you happily ramble while you eat about how good the foods are pleases him. seeing your cute smile and hearing the noises you make brings him an inexplicable amount of joy.

jihoon starts doing the dishes and cleaning the worktop and counter while you finish your plate.

“do you think it will be a girl or a boy?” you ask out of nowhere.

“i don’t know. but does that matter? the important thing is that the baby is born healthy.”

“i was just asking.” he can hear you chewing loudly, a sign that you are eating well.

it was difficult to see you without an appetite and without the happy glow that adorned your eyes. jihoon can now sleep peacefully, no longer having to worry if you and the baby are eating properly.

“if you really want to know, we can always do the ultrasound.”

once the dishes are finished, he wipes his hands with a cloth and then turns around to face you.

“no need, i can wait until i give birth.”

you decided to keep the baby’s gender a surprise to discover since it doesn’t matter. whether it’s a boy or a girl, you will always love him or her no matter what.

jihoon takes a napkin and gently wipes the crumbs off your cheek. you murmur a small thank you and return to eat your food. ‘you’re cute’ he thinks to himself. he places an affectionate kiss on your temple and then tenderly strokes your hair.

a smile forms on his face, and jihoon feels complete and happy. his soul feels at peace in the comfort of your home.

later, you two are sitting on the couch, snuggled together and wrapped in a thick duvet. you don’t do anything in particular, just cuddle, seeking each other’s warmth and comfort.

“you know you’ve changed.”

“eh? how so?”

“i mean, you're still the same person, just something’s changed. you became more soft, more affectionate, more... you know what i mean right?”

you have a little trouble expressing what you want to say, jihoon giggles, making you laugh too.

he inwardly melts at your cuteness. your eyes practically glow with joy and excitement but hold a soothing softness at the same time. the smile on your face depicts the happiness and joy of the world for him. jihoon can’t help but smile lovingly.

“yeah, i know.”

he has indeed become more affectionate since the announcement of your pregnancy. he already loved giving you hugs and kisses before but it has increased three times more when he knew you were going to become parents.

he's also not afraid to initiate these gestures of affection even in public when he knows you really need them.

perhaps the idea that he is going to become a dad and start his own family with the woman of his life has made him softer than before.

he hugs you tighter and kisses your forehead affectionately. he sighs in pure happiness.

it’s far from the life he imagined he would spend, he who thought he would spend his life in his office only returning very late at night with no one to welcome him home.

now, he has you to come home to and soon a beautiful little being will be added to the family.

[heedeungism]

synopsis: the duke loves you dearly, yes, but how could you possibly know that? includes: bridgerton au, suggestive, profanity , hoon is a rake

as duke and duchess of hastings, it was expected that you produce an heir within the year. being the notorious love match of the season, the diamond and the duke, the image of your family back in london was counting on your ability to ‘perform your duty’, as the ton loved to put it.

sunghoon, your husband, the duke, had been the one to propose the deal. you’d been told your whole life that your interests meant nothing if your husband did not share them, yet he had asked you what your favorite color was. you had been told that horse riding wasn’t ladylike, yet he had shown you his favorite mare and asked you if you’d ever ridden.

he was all the right things, you’d thought. though truthfully, he had one quality you couldn't look past. he was a rake. he frequented brothels, fucked whores, but called on you and gave you the most expensive flowers, and spoke the sweetest of nothings. it was almost enough to look past. you’d thought that you’d be able to get past it, that if he was in love with you enough to propose he’d be in love enough to stop visiting the brothels.

that hope was shattered the moment he’d proposed. it wasn’t romantic, nor was it anything you wanted.

“a deal?” you remember asking when he had looked at you with eyes you had never seen so unfeeling, “or a marriage?”

“you will be allowed the estate. every luxury you desire will be yours.” he had stated, “while i—“

“spend your nights at your beloved brothels?” his face when you had spoken those words had sent your heart into its own frozen hell. “you do not have to explain yourself, your grace.”

and so, the two of you married. you knew that despite the pieces he had left your heart in he would keep his word, and he did. you’d never worn such luxurious gowns nor felt fabric so soft and breathable as your nightdress.

your mama had told you little about what the night of your wedding entailed, only that if a certain event did not transpire the marriage would be null. that event was never described in full to you by your mother, only hinted at by jane austen, and yet it had been nearly a month since your nuptials and the duke had left the space between the two of you alarmingly obvious. the large bed that while you both slept on you did not share, the avoidance of eye contact, and the heat of his hand on yours only for him to pull away before you can let it pool.

on mornings that you allow yourself to sleep in, you are unsure if the ghostly touch along your cheekbone and the gentle tucking of your hair out of your face is your imagination or just the breeze coming from the open window. on nights that you are plagued by the feeling of being undesirable, you can feel his gaze on your back when he thinks you’re asleep.

on a night like this one, you find yourself reaching a point of exhaustion. “your grace.” you greet as you enter his study, the place he would keep to himself and even eat on most nights.

he barely glances up from his paperwork, “do you need something?”

shaking your head, you pull the shawl you have over your shoulders to cover the skin that your nightdress didn’t. the pink color of the fabric was what you had described as your favorite when the duke had asked. it’s the color of nearly every dress you have been provided with since moving into clyvedon. “no, i simply came to inform you that i am having the maids move my things into the duchess’s chambers.”

his interest is piqued, and he finally looks at you. “why ever would you have them do that?”

“is reason needed to move into my own chambers?”

your response garners a look from your husband, “separate rooms shall not be suffered.”

his words cause you to scoff, “yet a silent marriage will be?”

he is silent for a moment before he speaks, “jones.” the butler standing by the door straightens up, “inform the maids that they will under no circumstances move the duchess’ belongings from our chambers.”

“sir.” the man nods, exiting the room and leaving you with your husband.

“will you continue to go about your days acting as if i do not exist?” you question goes unanswered as sunghoon resumes his paperwork. “fine, i will move them myself.”

“you will do no such thing.”

“oh, i believe i will.” you retort and sunghoon stands, hands placed on the desk as his jaw shifts.

“i forbid you.”

the audacity baffles you, frustration turning into fury within the second, “you forbid me?”

sunghoon walks out from behind his desk, stopping beside it, “you are my wife. your hatred i can tolerate but i will not allow the agony of separate rooms.”

“am i your wife?” you ask, watching his hands twitch at his sides and his eyes darken, “we had a wedding, yes, but if we did not spend that night together are we truly married?”

“you speak nonsense.” he dismisses, eyes no longer on you as he turns away, “go to bed.”

“do not speak to me like i am a child—“

“i said-“ he starts, voice raising as he turns back toward you with a darkness in his gaze, “go. to. bed.”

his eyes pierce your own as his voice is low and nearly breathless, you lower your chin just the slightest as your heart aches, “i am not a child, nor am i a fool. i know you do not love me but i did not think you cruel enough for trickery.”

“trickery?” he asks, seemingly clueless as the what you mean.

you begin, “the day we met in that garden i thought you different, kind. you led me to believe such lies, you knew i could not say no to you, you trapped me in a loveless marriage that you knew i did not desire—“

“loveless? if that is what you believe this marriage to be, it is not i who is the cause,” he argues, and you narrow your eyes.

“am i to believe that you love me? have your actions up to this very moment warranted such beliefs?” your question causes your husband’s jaw to shift.

“go to bed.” he looks down at his desk again.

“do not tell me what to do.”

“what do you want from me?” he whips around to look at you. “i have given you riches, i have given you every gown you could possibly desire, i have had the finest soaps imported from india and yet you continue to oppose me. what. do. you. want?”

“i want a husband. not a stranger that i share a bed with, not a keeper.” you state, “i know you do not love me, but if I am to be duchess and produce an heir i deserve better than an absent duke.”

sunghoon remains silent for a moment before his hands clench into fists and his cold eyes meet your own. “call me a stranger, loathe my existence for the rest of your life but never think for even a moment that i do not love you.”

you are stunned into silence, and he continues, stepping closer and closer until your breaths mingle as he says, “i have spent the past fortnights in agony. suffering through the nights i cannot touch you. speaking to you is not enough, nor is being in your company. i have never in my life felt as though i cannot inhale what another does not exhale and yet i find myself suffocating with every moment i am not by your side.”

his fingers ghost over your cheekbone and you find your breath caught in your throat. “i have loved you ever since i saw you in that garden. do not dare question that.”

your lips part and his eyes follow them. your chest rises as you inhale sharply and deeply, attempting to process the words leaving his lips as well as their close proximity to your own. “you…love me.”

your tone is not one of question, and his pleasure in that fact is shown through both his actions and the three words you had yearned to leave his lips since he’d proposed. the same lips that capture yours in a hungry and insatiable kiss that has you in shambles.

your knees buckle, legs turning to jelly, and like he had expected it his arms wrap around you and pulls you closer. his tongue meets yours the moment your lips part and as he brings you to sit on his desk, the pressure of his body between your legs sends a jolt of pleasure you have never experienced before up your body, prompting a choked whimper to escape between the mess of lips and tongue.

“your grace.” you exhale against him, quickly silenced by his lips once again as he breathes you in like you’re the last atom of oxygen on earth.

“your grace.” he responds in kind, hand trailing up your thigh under your nightdress. then, there’s contact and a loud keen that like the rest of them, he swallows with ease.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.