my beautiful angel 🥹 happiest birthday to you 🫂💗⭐️ my life has only known joy since we’ve crossed paths. you’re the sweetest ever and i hope you get every good thing your heart desires! love yaaaaa! 💗💗💗
omg doll thank you so much! 🩷 im so happy i met you and formed a connection 🥺 always the nicest and sweetest i love you too!! ><
ପ(⑅ˊᵕˋ⑅)ଓ 𓂃𓂃𓂃 your cupcake has been delivered.ᐟ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱
⋮ ⌗ ┆概要 ⨾ the never-ending question of 'what to eat for dinner?' draws you to exhaustion, a symptom of the adulthood you've come into. luckily for you, sunghoon knows exactly what will satisfy you.
⋮ ⌗ ┆便条 ⨾ the first of your requests done for my follower event! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و this was a nice way to ease back into writing after some minor burnout suffered over my break 😵💫 however, this has made a madman for hoon because he's just so (loud clattering sounds) anyways 😁 i hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing this, feel free to send in more requests and i will get to them as soon as time allows! much loveeeeee! <333
"Hm, smells good!"
Over the stark midnight induction stovetop, steam dances under the sunset stove hood light, bubbles crackling in the pot of pasta you brew, competing with the soft sounds of your playlist ─ your picture of serenity. Tossed over your shoulder, your lips line into a smile at your incoming roommate, Sunoo, sauntering through the living room with his arms braced against the back of a kitchen stool, whiskered smile on full display.
"I haven't even gotten to the sauce yet," you dash a wink, slightly turned to whisk your tortellini in its pot. "I'll save you some though."
"You're a godsend," his palms clasps together, joy plentiful. "That'll save me making hashbrowns when I get back."
"You mean those hockey pucks?" Laughter bubbles out of you two, fondness painting over the amusing memory. "They were frozen in the middle and you had the audacity to say,"
"Your hashbrowns have been served!"
He collapses in a fit of giggles, you halfway there as you back away from the stove, clutching your stomach at the resurfaced memory, Sunoo so happy to serve you frozen hashbrowns after a night out. While thoughtful, it did prompt ready-made food to be stored away for such occasions.
"You know I'm no good in the kitchen, how much more drunk," he comments, index finger dabbing away acute tears.
"Yeah, that actually might have been my bad," offering a sidelong glance, your teeth bite back your mirthed grin. "It made for a good memory, though. That I can't complain about,"
"Even if you threw up whole hasbrowns the next day?"
Eyes clamped shut, your shoulders shake with amusement, the boil of pasta subduing poor attempts to backtrack muffled snickers.
"Even if so." you decide on, looking back at him with the kind of fondness your friendship thrives on, the same mirrored back at you.
On the stool's back, his elbow balances on its edge, palm holding his chin as his back extends, lips settled into a small pout. "Did you make cocktails too?"
"I would have but," a flush gnaws at your neck's nape, a sudden flash of heat blowing towards your face. "I didn't have any time."
"Too busy with other cock…"
"You know what!"
His body collapses under the weight of familiar laughter, eyes moon crescents as your spatula's raised, accusingly pointed in his direction as timidity keeps your smile downturned, flush alive and well in your bunched cheeks.
"I've had just enough of you!'
His arms shape into a W, eyes flared with a knowing smirk. "Am I wrong?"
Eyes rolling, you revert your attention back to your pasta, shaking your head along with your stirs. "Insufferable."
"Your moans were insufferable, I'll tell you that."
A near gasp attempts an offended launch, embarrassment heavy in your furiously burned cheeks ultimately falling with the closure of your mouth, displeased groans having to suffice.
"Where's your boy toy anyways? Did he leave yet?"
Absently, you answer. "He's napping in mine."
"He's still here?!" you can hear his eyes bulge out his skull, eyes cutting to the ticking kitchen clock, speaking of the late hour. "It's like, 7 in the evening. He's been here this whole time?"
"Don't ask how." Cause you're better off not thinking about it.
"You fixing him a plate too?"
Your lack of a response is answer enough.
"Holy fuck, I'm losing my best veteran!"
Past the point of ridiculousness, your head swivels back to him, an accusatory spaculta raised. "Don't you have a pres to go to?"
In your view, Sunoo plays up his scowl, retreating into himself as he strings a zip-up hoodie across his arm. "I'm going, I'm going."
With his back turned, making a start for the door, you think you'll regain some semblance of peace if not for his last remarks.
"Shame you didn't get to those cocktails," he starts. "Well, tails I should say."
"Goodbye, Sunoo!"
He hollers his goodbye back, door unlocking and locking behind him, the slam of the door your signal for peace and quiet. Despite the heavy exhale out your chest, your lips can't help settle into one hinting at leftover laughter, your conversation re-run as you dwindle the heat down on the stove.
Regardless of his dramatics, Sunoo's reaction is well warranted because he knows anything about you, it's that your casual hook-ups never extend to this. In your bed past daybreak, a hot plate of food waiting for them hours later. They're not even allowed in your bedroom period, their poor excuse of a bedroom settled for because if they don't take up space in your room, there's less chance of mind-real estate taken up once they're onto the next shiny toy.
Somehow, Sunghoon separates himself from the rest. Meant to be a one-time fling you could have bragging rights over, only for him to become a constant. A chanced at outreach turning into a preference, the gamble of an orgasm not considered when it's guaranteed with him. He's never made things complicated too, toeing the arm's length you've kept him at without any complaints. It should make you happy ─ it does ─ but somehow, in the frequent trips over to his (that don't feel like camping), you've gotten lax.
In no rush to leave his cloud-like mattress, eating and mingling with his roommates when you've would've dodged them otherwise, inviting him into your room ─ your space ─ and well, now that he's spent a near 24 hours over at yours, you're not sure what to make of things. If this still constitutes as casual or if you'll have to complicate things for yourself weighing out pros and cons of his loss.
As you're about to stop your impending spiral, turning off the stove, warmth envelopes the expanse of your back, swaddled arms wrapping around your waist with tenderness. Fresh linen and sandalwood makes its way into your senses, unwinding your shoulders into the embrace you subconsciously slump into, the grain of Sunghoon's chin settling against your shoulder.
Your hand overlaps his before you stop yourself. "You're awake."
"Yeah," he muses, voice coarse with afternoon's slumber, taken with permission after how ever manage rounds you'd managed to fit in between a late-night text. "I heard you were cooking, so I came out to help."
The aimless pats over his crossed over hands still mid-air, brain pinpointing to the obvious. "You heard us?"
His beat of silence doesn't inspire much confidence. "Partially,"
The groan you do is immediate, laughed over as your body sags with the half-hearted dread, unsure of what's worse ─ Sunghoon hearing your conversation or the lack of apprehension in having those two parts of your life start intersecting.
"It was funny ─ hush," he surmises, the kiss placed to your cheek starting something funny in your chest. "You're making tortellini?"
"Yeah," you confirm, the sudden lump in your throat cueing the clear of your throat as your body grows rigid. "Did you want some?"
Again, he plagues you with a pause, a thoughtful hum given vibrating against your skin, aligning the fragments of your spine. "I could have a bite."
He chooses then to sink his teeth into your earlobe, a surprised yelp pried out your throat as you tug your head the other direction, only amplifying the dull stretch.
"You're sick," is your harmless retort, his hands canvasing the perimeters of your waist, underneath your tank top's flimsy material where hairs stand to attention. "You'll have to wait. Gotta drain this and make the sauce first."
You swear you hear the sound of his smirk, his lips stretching far and wide as they hover over your ear's shell, a crane into him at the proximity.
"I've got something else you can use."
His embraces grows tighter, pulling you into the firmness of his chest which isn't the sole thing firm about him. Against the curve of your ass, through the thin layers of shared clothing, the outline of his cock makes itself known, hitching the breath lodged in your throat, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you.
As if he didn't put you through the mattress only hours before.
Perhaps that's why you're so well-suited for each other. You can't stop fucking like rabbits.
"Do you want me to get knocked up?" You joke, an act of incredulous performed as your neck cranes to meet his gaze. "My birth control's working overtime here."
He gives a laugh too, a hum resonating in the fabric of your skin as his hands continue to roam, intimacy dialled tenfold as his fingertips tease with possession, a middle finger drawn above the waistband of your sleep shorts.
"I want you filled," he says, voice doused in the desire rife in your bodies, the languid graze of his fingertip unearthing a mewl from your quickly crumbling body. "Don't you want it too? Or have you forgotten how much you've begged for it?"
Nails sink into his hands, bucked hips following in hot pursuit as you will yourself a sliver of self-restraint. "Hoon,"
"Come on, princess," all he does is entice, nosing along the column of your neck, phantom bites eliciting the muffle of your moans, willpower waning. "I've got something better to fill your mouth with anyways."
Gentle hands manoeuvre you in his direction, as if you weren't on your way down to your knees already, the same mischievous glint matched in your eyes as you're face to face. While your descent to your knees is already predestined, what you don't anticipate is the kiss he pulls you into, possessive hand clasped in the curve of your nape to eat at the distance.
Searing with claim is how his kiss feels, committed to memorizing every line and hump of your lips, your nails dragging down the sides of his torso, a desperate plunge over clothes before your fingers hook into his sweatpants' waistband, pulling him flush against you. The impact with its friction breathes relieved sighs in between, an over-extension of your greed earning the subtle reminder of your place, sharpened canines settling into the ghost of previous markings, the melted moan you do making him smile against you. In his last brush of demise, his tongue glosses over the vague dents, saliva edging over into your mouth that you hum at, parting from him with the lick of your lips.
Usually, you'd make a show of what lies ahead ─ graze fingertips short of his waistband like he did, trail slow-moving hands down his thighs, nose along his print before you kiss into the twitch of his cock, chest fluttering as your teeth puncture into the waistband, going for a pull coupled with your helping hands. But you're impatient, pressed to swallow him whole, like you are most times as seen when your hands hook into his sweatpants and underwear, nails scraping with the tug you do thereafter.
His cock stands tall, filled in and flushed, tip beaded with precome pooling saliva in your mouth at the sight. The plane of his stomach is almost unfair in the dimmed light, warmth emphasising the shadows of the abs your finger helplessly drag down between, loving the shiver he does as the motion ripples through him, precome pooling to the point of overflow.
You're quick to catch its fall, a hand wrapped around his base as the flat of your tongue swirls slowly around his tip, saving the best for last as his come reunites with your taste buds, the salt and musk of him prompting lightheadedness in your muddled mind. Above you, you hear a groan, chest-harboured but evident enough, fingers carding into your hair to make you look up.
"See how hard you make me, hm princess?" his head is tilted, an overcast in his eyes as his hips jut forward to paint precome to your lips, canines shown when your lips run over the trail. "You want it, don't you?"
You clench at nothing, nodding with the brush of your lips against his tip. His lip catches between his teeth, firmness in his fingers, a tug at your scalp as he says,
"Then get to it."
Diving in, you greed pushes you to accept him all at once, mouth closing around his length, trimmed pelvis hair trickled against the tip of your nose, huffed out of as a hissed inhale sounds from above. Keeping yourself there, you let the weight of him hang on your tongue, savouring the taste and feel before a shallow thrust tickles near the back of your throat, throat constricting around his tip. On your tongue, his length twitches again, a shaken sigh escaping him as precome beads back into your throat, closing to capture every drop.
The saliva collecting around him lends itself as your hand's compensation, head dragging yourself back to his tip to accommodate for the fist folding over his cock, clutching with the pressure he loves, tongue grazed over engorged veins on your way back. Coldness creeps into the knees braced against arctic kitchen floor, paid no mind in the face of the thrill of this, letting your mouth and hand do sloppy work of Sunghoon's cock in a place anyone could chance upon. The same thought seems to occur to the man above, a weathered moan coming with the involuntary buck of his hips, the hardness around your mouth throbbing like the situation pains him, leniency given to him as your hand swirls up to meet your lips, tunnel kissed before moving in tandem.
The twisting motion is chased after the warmth of your mouth, eager to please and be filled as you feed him down to your throat, unearthed moan blending into his skin. The sensation earns a tug of your locks, smiled to as your head bobs, filthy slick sounds filling the dimmed room.
"Right where you belong, hm sweet girl?" Sunghoon muses, a dark lick to his words swirling the pool of arousal in your belly, the hum you do around him slowly picking at his crumbling composure. "You're sin on your knees."
Brushed out your face, he gets a better view of your work, kicking in your mouth at the pleasure bloomed over features he's been obsessed with.
"Bet you've soaked through those pretty panties you've got on," he smirks. "You know they're no use when I'm round."
Your hips seek him, bucked forward with no gratification except the closer draw of your thighs, rubbed together to ease the ache between them. Your tongue swirls over his tip, flat and unhurried as your hand squeezes around him, coaxing more precome into the mess of saliva coating him, the shadow of his labouring chest peeking into your vision.
"I'd take you anywhere, wouldn't care who sees because I know─" he chokes on a pant, fingers taut within your hair. "I know you'd want it too."
"Don't you, princess?" he asks, already knowing the answer but making you beg for it, adding fuel to the fire conjured in your stomach, pathetic mewl closing your throat around him. "Don't you wanna be fucked wherever? Used like the slut you are?"
You're useless in the face of your own desires, pushing yourself for more as your mouth ventures further down his generous length, lips brushed against the bunch of your hand at his pelvis, forcing breaths through your nose. There's an impossible squeeze of your thighs, so desperate for friction, pressure will have to suffice, slick echoed as your hole goes for clenches met with nothing but slick.
"Hm, that's it princess. Take my cock," he coos, tenderness in the palm of his hand as he marvels down at you, head thrown back with a throaty groan. "Know how much you love choking on it."
The whine strung out of you hovers on the border of pathetic, ending in a broken sob as you force more of him into you, pushing through the gags his breath hitches at.
Despite the fact, he's sweet as can be, fingers coming up for oxygen as a lone palm is soothed over your sculp, a sliver of comfort contrasting the raging fire consuming your body.
"There you go, all the way down. Nice and easy," his deep timber has you mewling through tears, gathered in the clump of your lashes as your chest sizzles, nagging for the shallow breaths taken through your nose. Your senses overflow with him, drunk on the heady scent enveloping you, arousal strong enough to taste as a few more gags give to accommodate his size. "Look so pretty choking around my cock like that. Look up for me, pretty."
Too far gone, his voice sings to you like a siren, luring the uplift of your head, cock pushed back further at the angle that makes you choke, eyes forced shut then pried open. Even in subtle darkness, light illuminates him, his figure haloed as every piece of your filthy imagination constructs in a picture of him, rosiness hinted beneath the porcelain of his skin, a lone drop of sweat beading down his temple down to the angular cut of his jaw. His chest's heaved but his smile sickening, the high keen you do nothing but a mere consequence of your compliance.
"There she is," syrup drowns the onslaught of his words, sugary sweetness held in the honey of his eyes as they focus on nothing but you, stuffed full like you always beg him to be. "All teary-eyed too. Is it too much for you, baby? My cock's too big for your little mouth?"
Body restless, you squirm in skin constricting three sizes too small, nails scrapping at whatever expanse available, claw marks carved into the skin of his hip bones. His tongue pokes into the interior of his cheek, scarred but enjoying every minute of your idea of heaven, no attempt made to move your head ─ simply indulging in the comfort of him in your mouth, tip edged further down than your poor throat can take.
"Hm, too bad, baby. You wanted this," Sunghoon only affirms, the condescending dip of his words only making you clench harder, high strung on nothing but walls caught in your grasp. "Because that's what you love most ─ nothing but my cock swarming that pretty head of yours."
You make a sound that's meant to be confirmation, or a plea ─ whatever it is, it's gargled mess against him, spit bypassing the plush of your lips, mini bubbles forming at the breath you attempt, lungs scorched, desperate for more oxygen.
Relentless, your hands don't seek a tap on Sunghoon's thighs for refuge, his fingers moving into your hair to grasp on the sides of your head, a hint for actions leaving you leaking down your thighs.
"Lemme bruise your throat a bit, lemme fuck you," and you let him, rigid in place as he teases you with a few shallow thrusts, only rewarded with the makeshift nod given. Hands stapled at his hips, he drags himself the long way back, leaving only his tip kissed by your lips before thrusting in again, quick to build speed, generating the curses he heaves. "Shit,"
He starts to build a rhythm, punishing and deep just how you prefer, tears clouding your vision as you keep your mouth firm despite the moans it begs to release, tongue catching the underside of his cock, picking away at the pieces of your restraint. Saliva pools at their feel, further encouraged by the angry throb of his cock, veins coursed over as Sunghoon's laboured pants compete with the gags amplified by his reach at the back of your throat.
"You sound so fucking filthy, princess," he swears, halfway torn apart as a gasp wrestles out his own throat. "Gonna make me come sounding like that. That's what you want, right? Me filling you?"
The friction of your feverish gargles and his incessant pistons come alongside your shared pained moans, a near growl liberated from his chest as his hips gather more speed, held onto in desperation as he works at making your wishes come true.
"So good for me, pretty. I'll give it to you, I'll give you what you want," his words come out in a muddled rush, his release hinging you on the edge of delirium, the slump of your body only prevented by his steady grip. "And after this, I'm filling you properly."
His promise squeaks you against the lathered skin of his cock, his broken moan your satisfaction as your body shivers and shakes, his length removed with a wet pop, echoing far and wide.
Immediately, his hands fold over the mess your mouth's made, fisting his cock with the presence of a madman as his world narrows down to you and your mouth.
"Open. Up."
The command hits you deep in your core, the low graft of his voice expelling more mess into your soiled panties and down your thighs, jaw unhinging with a creak as you follow through.
The yield to his command pushes him over the edge, tip weighted down on your tongue as spurts of come shoot down the tunnel of your mouth, some askew and straying around the perimeters around your lips. It works out better for Sunghoon, the borderline-gone groan he gives brewed from the depths of his toned stomach as he watches his masterpiece unfold, it's final piece being the sack of bones you fold into after he gives you his last, inflamed throat gulping down his hot stream of come.
Fatigue submerges your figures in an endless wave, the tide only pulled back long after your pasta is forgotten, the fog cleared when your fawn-enabled body is hauled up in strength Sunghoon reserves for you.
His hand clasps around the back of your head, your chin tucked into his shoulder as your feet scramble for the floor, arms swaddled around him for safety.
"I'm fucking you. You'll get those sorry excuse underwear off and spread yourself on the bed for me," his command grates into your eardrums, spine straightening in the possessive hold his other hand kneads into the the flesh of your ass. "I'm eating you for dinner."
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