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miraclewoozi · 9 months

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NOW YOU SEE ME - c.hs

you can’t say you’re surprised that your boyfriend leaps at the thought of throwing some sensory deprivation into the mix of your sex life, but you’re maybe a little shocked at just how into it he gets.

pairing; vernon x fem reader. genre; smut. plotless smut. MINORS DNI. w/c; 4.5k a/n; smut warnings under the cut. a/n2.0: you ever just think about that one time hhu wore blindfolds on stage? yeah. yeah, me too. a/n3.0: this is half proof read and half not proof read because if i had to re-read the rest i was gonna delete it! so! if there's a typo, no there isn't! <3

warnings; swearing (honestly just assume this is a given with me at this point), blindfolding, nipple play (m rec), finger sucking, praise, handjob (m rec), orgasm denial (m rec), piv sex (not wrapped but it’s est. relationship), slight dumbification (of him<3), face sitting/cum eating implied(f rec), pet-names (baby, sollie, angel, maybe a couple others). dom!reader, sub!vernon. reader is shorter than him. (if i've missed anything, please let me know!)

“...Blindfolds?”

“Blindfold. Singular,” you correct your boyfriend, shuffling slightly against the back of the couch. He cocks his head a little but he doesn’t contest it: he just waits for you to continue. “I don’t know. Things got a little… over-friendly at brunch the other day and someone brought it up as something they’d always wanted to try.”

“Huh,” Vernon muses. “Yeah, no. I’d never really thought about it.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him, and he rolls his eyes at you, looking back down at his phone. He taps the screen and the familiar jingle to his favourite game sounds through his speaker once more.

“I didn’t say that,” he says, the corners of his mouth tweaking up almost undetectably. What’s less discrete, though, is the way his bottom lip pinches as he draws it just slightly between his teeth. “You know I’ll try anything once.”

“Anything?” you tease, raising the volume of the TV again now your little intermission seems to be coming to an end.

“Almost anything,” he corrects. You laugh, and so does he; you bump your foot against his abdomen where your legs are resting in his lap, and his grin stays an extra few seconds on his face. Right up until something in his game obviously gets a little more difficult; then, his brow furrows in concentration and his thumbs start moving deftly across the screen. You turn back to the TV, pretending to pay any attention to the show you put on a little while ago, but your mind starts to drift elsewhere.

Good to know.

Three weeks pass before anything comes of that little conversation.

For a little while, Vernon was half-expecting you to whip out a sash of satin every single time things got the slightest bit steamy in the bedroom. When he told you he was down to try almost anything once, he really wasn’t kidding — even though you’re yet to deliver on that grand idea, you can safely say that your sex life has gotten a little bit spicier since you brought it up. Nothing nuts, granted. A few restraints, a couple of new toys here and there, but as yet…

No blindfolds.

So when he gets home from work late one evening, yawning his way through the front door to your apartment, it’s honestly faded almost entirely from his mind. Hearing him enter, you come through to greet him in the hallway, eyes landing on Vernon as he’s mid-stretch, his t-shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his toned midriff. Your smile at seeing him only brightens.

“Long day?” you ask, taking the last few steps towards him. Maybe there’s a little extra sway in your hips as you do, but Vernon looks so out of it that you’re not entirely sure he notices. He nods at your question anyway, rolling out a kink in his neck.

“The longest,” he says. “How was yours?”

“Slow,” you sigh, reaching him and slipping your arms around his waist. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He ducks his head down, pressing a short but sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. You rock up onto your toes to press one of your own to his lips and he smiles against you, humming in the back of his throat. “Can we order something in today? If I try to cook right now, I’ll end up burning the place down.”

“What else is new?” you tease him, pressing small pecks across his cheek and trailing them down his jaw. He clicks his tongue in feigned indignation but sighs anyway, tipping his head to the side; your kisses start to linger, each touch of your lips lasting just a fraction longer than the last.

Your embrace tightens, pulling him flush to you. There’s something really endearing in the way he lets his weight fall against you, only barely steadied by his hands on your hip bones.

“But before we do,” you murmur, lips tickling at his earlobe. He slackens his jaw, lips falling apart, eyelashes fluttering. You grin to yourself. “I think you need to unwind a little – don’t you?”

Vernon lets out a softly chuckled laugh. “I think you might be right,” he agrees.

You take a few paces back from him, reaching into the pocket of your sweatpants and pulling free a length of silk, running it slowly through your fingers as you lean against the opposite wall. His eyes fall to the pearlescent material before they lift back to your own; all the tiredness seems to have been shocked clean out of him and he stares at you like all his Christmases have come at once.

“Tonight?” he asks. You can practically see his thoughts firing off at a hundred miles an hour in those beautiful, big, brown eyes. Cute. “Really?”

“Mhm,” you nod. Vernon swallows so hard that his Adam’s apple bobs. “If you want to, of cour–.”

“I do,” he says, rushing before you can even finish your sentence. “Shit, babe. Yeah – I do.”

“Come here, then,” you say.

He does. What a good boy.

“Shirt off.”

He does that, too. In one swift movement, he reaches behind his head and pulls at the collar. His upper half is quickly bare and the discarded article of clothing is little more than a scrunched ball on the hallway floor. He stands in front of you, still gazing down at the silk. You’re not oblivious to the hardness growing in his pants as his breaths get a little deeper and his chest starts staining pink in a blush, but you make no effort to do anything about it. Instead, you twirl your finger once, asking him to turn around, and he spins on his heels so he’s facing away from you.

He's even polite enough to bend his knees so that you can reach without stretching.

“S’that okay?” you ask once your fingers have tied the silk at the back of his head, tugging gently at the bow. He nods, his own hands lifting to make sure it’s secure and in place, that he can’t see anything, before he stands fully upright again. “Not too tight?”

“Perfect,” he tells you.

You walk around to his front, using this moment to really take him in. His pants sit low on his hips, as they always do, and the waistband of his boxers peeks out over the top of them. He's perfect, you think, licking over your lips at the subtle edges of muscle and every inch of smooth skin. All yours, all for the taking. I can’t wait to ruin him.

“Tell me anytime if you want me to take it off, okay?” you ask, reaching out with one hand to press your palm against his bare chest. He gasps softly at the sudden contact but quickly relaxes into it, almost falling forwards into your touch.

“I won’t want you to,” he chuckles. “But yeah. Of course.”

“Good boy,” you coo. Your thumb strokes gently over one of his exposed nipples, earning you another easily-won sharp intake of breath. A few more careful brushes and it starts to harden under your touch, your intense, hungry gaze unwitnessed by the man already totally at your mercy. His back arches just a little, seeking more, but you stop almost as quickly as you started.

Instead, your hand travels upwards, flat-palmed but agonisingly light. He's burning up, already, the loss of one of his senses so obviously heightening everything else.

Two of your fingers curl beneath the chain that decorates his collarbones, pulling at it firmly, and he stumbles forwards for real this time. You catch him with your other hand on his waist, holding him in place and looking at his parted, pink lips.

“D’you trust me?” you ask, and Vernon nods, following the sound of your voice until he’s just inches away from your own mouth. Each of his breaths feels a thousand degrees as they breeze over your face; you can’t help but lean forwards and kiss him. Just once. As a treat.

“With my life,” he whines, chasing you when you pull away. “I’m all yours, babe. Please. Use me.”

You keep your fingers hooked under his chain and use it to guide him all the way to your bedroom. He follows blindly, steps clumsy: he trips over himself a few times, slipping in his socks on the polished floor. He mumbles various unintelligible things to himself each time and you just laugh sweetly back at him, but his gracelessness only delays you by a couple of seconds. The moment you have him in your room, you uncurl your fingers from his necklace and plant both your hands on his waist, pushing him slowly down towards the bed.

“On your back,” you tell him, watching as he lies flat, both his arms fixed at his sides.

You climb on top of Vernon, for the first time really realising just how much power you hold over him, right now. He is completely at your will. With one hand planted either side of his head, you lean down over him, hovering with your lips just grazing his own. He tries to press up into the kiss but you deny him, pulling away until he falls back onto the bed with a huff.

“You’re gonna behave for me tonight, aren’t you ‘Sol?” you ask, each syllable dragging your lips across his, joining and separating them over and over. “Be really, really good?”

He nods, and when you don’t respond to the nonverbal answer, clears his throat. “Y-yeah. I promise.”

“Only because you know what’ll happen if you don’t.”

“Only ‘cause I want to,” he corrects, swallowing hard again. You grin at him, giving in to the kiss that he so desperately wants. He moans softly at it, again as you lick your way between his parted lips, again still as you suck his tongue into your mouth and ghost your teeth over the muscle.

It’s spitty and sloppy and needy on both of your ends but Vernon makes a point not to lift his arms from where they’re placed down by his thighs. He kneads at the bedding instead: grasps and releases the sheets, rubs them between his fingers so that he doesn’t completely lose himself in you and do something he shouldn’t. He really is being good, you muse. Showing real restraint. Because you know, and he knows, that he isn’t allowed to touch you until you say that he can.

You sit back from him after a little while, pulling off your own shirt and taking hold of one of his hands. He curls his fingers around yours, so deeply grateful for even this pathetic little touch.

“Here,” you sigh, and Vernon rolls his head back when you place his palm on your side, on the fabric of your bra band but not at the cup. He holds you there, thumb stroking back and forth, and when you lower yourself back down again, he’s so careful in how he tightens his grip so that he doesn’t let go.

You kiss his Adam's apple first, feeling it dip and vibrate with the moan he emits. You travel lower, then, and lower still: over his collarbone, down his chest, before your tongue flits out across one nipple, hardened from the chill in your apartment and aided by the anticipation of not knowing where you’ll touch him next. He whines at the gentle brush, biting down on his lip; you feel how his hips threaten to jolt beneath you, but his concentration is written all over his face and you just know he’s anchoring them down with all his might. You blow a slow stream of cool air over the bud, one hand moving down to toy with the other side of his chest.

He’s always been so sensitive, here. Always keening and gasping as you tweak his nipples and suck them into your mouth. You tug one between your teeth, at the same time wiggling your hips down to better position yourself over his cock. It’s straining so much against his work pants and you think if he gets any harder, he’ll burst through the seams. A high-pitched whine tumbles through his defences at the combined sensations, and you roll down against him again, again, again until he’s grasping at your bra for dear life.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask him, voice low and quiet.

“Need more,” he says. “Please — fuck. Fuck, I need more.”

You click your tongue at him. “Such a nasty word from such a pretty mouth.” With a frown, you sit upright and press two of your fingers against his lips. He parts them for you but immediately closes his mouth around your digits, suckling on them, licking over them, groaning at the weight of them when you grab his jaw with your thumb and ring finger, pressing his tongue back down in his mouth. “Be good, okay?”

He nods, his jaw a little slack even when you pull your fingers away, a string of his spit keeping you connected until it breaks and falls onto his chin. It stays that way even when you move off him, even when you start unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down. He helps, lifting his hips, kicking them off and over the side of the bed, ready to be forgotten, all the while not closing his mouth. You position yourself between his calves, just out of reach of his hands, and trail your fingers over the insides of his thighs.

“You want more, huh?” you ask, watching as Vernon nods again, so desperately, the blindfold staying secure and unmoving even as the bow at the back shifts against your bedsheets. His jaw is so tense, the muscles at the joint are practically bulging. you’d feel bad for him if he wasn’t so damn pretty when he got worked up.

“Please,” he pants, muscles twitching under your touch. When you lean down and kiss the inside of his thigh, right where that adorable freckle embellishes his skin, he jerks enough that he almost plants his knee into your jaw. “M’sorry — it-… it all feels so much more sensitive today-” he says, all rushed and hurried. You kiss his thighs over and over, licking your way upwards, pecking just below his belly-button and dragging the tips of your nails down his sides. God, his cock is hardly even concealed beneath his brilliant white boxers; he might as well not be wearing any with the outline so clear and obvious. A small translucent patch is even starting to form where his tip strains against them.

“I know, baby,” you grin. “It's okay. Can we take these off, too?”

He wordlessly lifts his hips up for you again so you can work his last remaining article of clothing off his scorching body. His length bounces free the second it possibly can, thick and leaking, and he groans at the relief of finally escaping the elasticated confines.

I could just leave him like this, you think to yourself, relishing in everything that makes the man lying in front of you so perfectly himself. Every single hair, standing on end, at attention to you. Every dip and curve and bump and bruise and scar. You could stare at him all day. But he’s growing impatient behind that blindfold, no matter what his perfectly well mannered hands and near-silent mouth would have you believe. As much as you want to just sit here and visually appreciate him, you think maybe it won’t hurt to physically do so, too.

It’s a fair stretch, but you manage to lean over him to open your bedside drawer and pull free a small bottle of flavoured lube. You squeeze a little into your palm, and he inhales a few times: even though you can only see two thirds of his face, you can practically feel him trying to figure out what the fragrance he can smell is, all of a sudden.

“Strawberry?” he murmurs after a moment, and you hum acknowledgement, taking his cock in your hand. He sighs, hips lifting to thrust himself further into the circle your fist makes; you freeze mid-stroke until he settles them back against the bed.

“That’s it,” you encourage, languidly starting to pump over his length as he lets out more sweet little moans and whimpers, teeth so tight around his bottom lip that the skin around them pales. “Let it out, baby.”

He releases his lip almost straight away, gasping a moan of your name, his fists balling at the bed sheets instead to ground him.

“How’s that feel?” you ask, jerking him off a little faster, moving your wrist in the way you know he likes. When he only nods up at you, you squeeze your fingers just enough that he stutters out a grunt.

“So good,” he sighs, licking out over his lips. “Feels-... feels like heaven.”

You hum, fondly smiling ear-to-ear (not that he can see this, but you both know he’s visualising your face right now whether his eyes are trained on it or not). “Fitting for an angel, huh?”

Over the course of the next few minutes, your speed increases until he honestly can’t quiet the noises you so eagerly want him to make. Alongside the lewd sounds of the lube in your palm sliding up and down his cock, over and over and over, his whimpers and pleas grow louder. He re-grasps the sheets in his fingers, spewing out a string of expletives.

“M’gonna-...” he starts, swallowing hard, and you start to slow your movements just enough to make him hiss. His voice, when he speaks again, almost seems to be laced with panic at the thought of not being allowed to finish. “Please – oh, please, you’ve gotta let me come.”

“Do I?” you ask, pouting condescendingly down at him. He can either hear it in your voice, or he just knows you well enough to have guessed exactly what your face is doing right now. Either way, he groans, his own lips jutting out to match your expression as he throws his head back.

“Please,” he tries again, a little deeper this time. As if he’s trying to be commanding when he begs you. As if he could ever stop you playing with him, like this. (As if he’d ever really want to.)

“Not yet,” you say, slowing and softening more until your movements are barely-there. “Hold on, for me.”

Miraculously, he does. even when you bring him to the edge again and immediately drop your pace — he mewls at you and rolls his head back and almost chokes on the spit collecting in his mouth, but he doesn't let go. It’s taking everything he has, you can tell. The pretty vein that runs up the side of his neck bulges. His forehead grows damp with sweat. His cock twitches and throbs in your hand and is so hard you’re sure it must be bordering on painful for him. But he holds on.

After half an hour, after denying him of his orgasm for the fourth time, you can’t help but feel a bit of pity for Vernon; he looks positively wrecked, writhing with every pump of your fist, his voice dry and hoarse. And maybe it’s a little self-indulgent, when you finally stop teasing him: maybe you can't deny that this is destroying you, too. The weight of him in your hand is satisfying, but the need you have to be stretched out on his cock is almost unbearable.

You undress yourself as he comes back down from the brink, drying off his forehead on the back of his arm. Your clothes join his on the floor and positioning one leg over his hips, you bend down low to kiss his lips.

He presses up into it so hard he almost breaks his own nose.

“I need you, baby,” you tell him, cupping his cheek. His hands instinctively come to settle on your hips. “I want you to fill me up. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yeah,” he breathes, just the idea of finally being able to get his dick wet seemingly wiping away the brain matter he uses to form coherent sentences. “I can...”

“Do you want this off?” you ask, fingers playing with the bottom of the blindfold.

He shakes his head, almost as if he’s offended that you’d ask. “No – please,” he hurries, gripping your hips tighter. “Leave it on. Wanna-... wanna fuck you with it-... wanna know how it feels…”

“Okay,” you agree, kissing the corner of his lips before grinding your pussy down over his leaking cock. The heat between your legs and the slickness of your folds as they drag against his length does something so deeply sinful to Vernon: he reaches up behind your back, pulls you down towards him, buries his head in your shoulder and sounds like he’s about to sob.

“I don’t know how long I’m gonna-...” he tries to warn you, another smooth roll of your hips cutting him off. He groans into your skin, practically drooling for you. “Oh my God – you’re so wet.”

“It's what you do to me, ‘sol,” you laugh.

He thrusts his hips up to meet yours, and it’s your turn to stutter out a breath. His leaking head grazes your throbbing, neglected clit and you don’t have it in you to tell him to keep still. You let him fuck against you for a few seconds longer, selfishly relishing in the momentary fractions of relief, but enough is enough when you need him inside you so badly it stings and you lift yourself away from him, much to Vernon’s dismay.

“You’ll last until I tell you that you can come,” you instruct him. “Do you understand?”

He swallows thickly and slides his hands down your back, pressing his fingertips into your ass, but he does nod his assent anyway.

“I’ll try,” he says, slowing his breathing, preparing himself. The poor sweetheart always nearly comes apart the second he feels your walls hugging him.

“You’ll succeed.”

You don’t give him the time to respond as you take his length in your hand and position it at your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his cock, your cunt stretching to accommodate his size. it punches the air out of both of your lungs after the build-up; his sensitivity and you finally now feeling that delicious fullness renders both of you completely silent. You lower yourself until he’s fully tucked away inside you, until you’re sitting atop of his thighs, and suddenly you’re the impatient one. You want to feel him drag against your walls, want to feel him pounding up into you so hard it rearranges your guts. But you’re not that mean. You wait a few seconds for his abs to relax and for his fingers to stop grasping your ass so ruthlessly before your thighs start to work you up and down in deep, long movements.

Truthfully, you’re really not expecting this to last very long at all, so Vernon surprises you when he holds himself together beneath you long enough for the knot to start tying itself low in your stomach. He doesn’t thrust up into you, nor does he bounce you up and down on his length the way he sometimes does. It’s self preservation, really, but you can convince yourself he’s just being on his best behaviour if you want to (but it’s kind of hard to care too much when his gorgeous cock is pressing so deeply into you that you can feel it in your stomach).

“You feel so good, Sollie,” you gasp for him, changing the angle of your hips and feeling his tip graze across the spot that sends your hips into disrepair and your brain into a frenzy. If you weren’t kneeling, you think you’d collapse. “You fill me up so well, oh my God.”

“Mhm,” he nods, squeaky and quiet. His fingers grip your hips tighter, the sharp lines of nails pressing in. You don’t care that it stings: you’re beyond playing, now.

“You wanna come so bad right now, don’t you?” you ask.

“On-only when-...” he swallows hard, feeling you bouncing a little faster. His chest is all pink and splotchy, his neck sweaty and tense. “When you say I can-...”

“I think you’ve earned-... earned it, don’t you?”

“You think so?” He asks. You nod, forgetting for a second in your bliss that he can’t hear you until he asks again. “You really think I have?”

“Yes, baby,” you tell him, squeezing your walls around him and feeling his hips make that first frantic jolt up to meet your own. You hold yourself still, dragging your nails down his chest, leaving harsh lines in their wake. “Want you to come for me. Want you to fuck me full.”

“Shit,” he whimpers, fucking up into you again. And again, and again, and again. Over and over, faster and faster, holding you harshly in place as he chases after the release you’ve been dangling in front of his covered eyes since he came home from work. Hell, since you mentioned blindfolding him in the bedroom in the first place all those weeks ago. He can’t control himself, head back against the pillows, moaning your name out loud as his orgasm hits him like a fucking train.

You aren’t far behind: by the time his thrusts slow, you’re coming down from your own Earth-shattering high, thighs burning but feeling so deliciously full. He continues pressing into you, trying his best to keep fucking his cum into your hole even though it dribbles out and pools at the base of his cock. You’re bent down over him by the time you’ve ridden out your climax, forehead on his collarbone, feeling him soften inside you but still not pulling himself out.

“You did so good, ‘Sol,” you breathe, easing your fingers behind his head and untying the knot that keeps you from looking into those gorgeous eyes you love so much. He lets you, this time, and the silk falls away onto the pillows as he blinks up at you. His lashes are a little dewy, his eyes glassy and sweet in his post-orgasm bliss.

He looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, except that can’t be. All of them are right here in front of you.

“That was amazing,” he murmurs, hugging you close. “Thank you, y/n.”

You can’t help but chuckle at him. “Thank you for trusting me, silly.”

“Always will,” he hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “With my life.”

“Well. Thank you for that, too.”

He slowly pulls himself out of you after a handful of minutes, grunting softly at the loss of your heat and his sensitivity. One of his hands lightly taps against your ass and you start to sit, begin moving off him so you can both go and clean off, but he doesn’t let you get too far.

“Where are you going?” he asks, frowning, his hand gripping your ass harder.

“Well, seeing as I’m literally dripping cum all over the bedsheets right now-...” you start, raising a brow at him. He tugs you, then, as if to pull your hips up towards him, as if to guide you up the bed. You shuffle slightly, unsure, but when he can reach, both his hands wrap around you and he pulls you up so your leaking cunt is sat right over his waiting lips.

Okay. Maybe now he’s looking at you like you hung all the stars.

“You really are, aren’t you?” he asks, nosing your inner thigh, one hand sliding in-between your legs. An elegant finger plays with his cum, smearing it over your lips, a grin forming on his own when his eyes leave your pussy and lift back up to meet yours. “I’ll be good, baby, I promise. Please. Let me help.”

thank u so much for reading! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always so appreciated<3

#vernon smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #choi hansol smut #hansol smut #chwe vernon smut #vernon x reader #j writes.#*#well. there's that itch scratched. good + bye😭

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cvpitvno · 1 year

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Fwb!Vernon seeing you kiss another guy in kisscam and railing you in public washroom?

It's just so fun to see him getting riled up, even if it's a rare thing. He's always so sweet and doesn't get mad at all unless you really reach the limits.

Vernon manhandling you 😩👌🏻

I mean, look at his fancams dude he's so intimidating in them🥴

i’ll do you one better… fwb!hockeyplayer!vernon

during the tv timeout when his team is gathered ok the bench, he himself a sweaty and panting mess worked up from the physicality and trash talk from the team.

when the kiss cam is announced, he focuses on the board, desperate to calm down from rising anger in his chest.

but when you, the person he turns to after every bad game to duck his frustrations out… the person he can’t help but text om roadies both in a sexual and non sexual way… seated next to a guy and being promoted to kiss?

man, to say vernon is angry is an understatement.

you’re his just as much as he’s yours, minus the whole formality of labels and everything. vernon is the only one allowed to kiss you, to touch you, to fuck you.

yet despite his knowledge of this, he still watches with a baited breath to see if you’d go against him like that.

his eyes watch as your own widen, head shaking and mouthing ‘not together, i’m taken,’ he can’t help but feel pride in his chest - anger king forgotten and now replaced with content.

sure, after the game he’d shoot you a text similar to the ones he sent all those times before :

vern <3 : hey, come down to the locker room. security will let you past.

booty call (lover) : omw

he was gonna pamper you in every sense of the word and worship you the way only couples would, but he’d still fuck you till your legs are shaking, breathing is somewhere beyond laboured, and so hard that your eyes rolled back into your head.

he loved you, and he liked to show it, but it would take him a bit to work up the courage to say it - someday you would be able to say you were taken without the lie.

someday the kisscam people wouldn’t dare put the partner or their hometowns star player up on the billboard with a good for nothing man next to them.

someday he would be yours just as much as you were his.

but today… today vernon was gonna fuck you till you were screaming loud enough for the opposing team to hear. he was gonna have to pressed against the shower wall, pressed chest first, and have his way with you.

someday was saved for love, but today was saved for fucking you the way you deserved to be fucked.

#𖤐 — svt writings.#cw : gn terms #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #vernon x reader #vernon smut #chwe hansol x reader #chwe hansol smut #chwe vernon x reader #chwe vernon smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut

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drunk-on-dk · 1 year

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you asked for hard thots and i can’t shake the absolute cesspit of brainrot that is vernon as your long-term-best-friend who is also your “platonic”-but-why-is-this-so-intense-why-is-he-looking-at-me-like-that date to a family wedding, in your hotel room afterwards and roasting your choice in pyjamas b4 ploughing you into the mattress😔✌🏻

anon u are so sexy for this ask ilysm <333 please tho I am EATING THIS UP, sorry it took me some time (uh oh this is NOT a drabble) but I hope you enjoy it, my dear!!! (i don't know if I did a great job making it super intense as it's a bit more lighthearted, but nonetheless, I hope it hits the mark!)

warnings: smut (minors DNI i will bite and block), some plot at the beginning, mutual pining, teasing, fem! reader but no pronouns, unprotected sex, cunnilingus (female receiving), let me know if i'm missing anything w/c: ~2.5k

"When does it end," you groan, finally peeling off those pesky heels that you've somehow managed to wear the whole wedding and falling back into the comfort of the springy hotel mattress. You're immediately curling into a little ball, hands massaging the aching balls of your feet. "This is like the millionth wedding we've been to this year."

Vernon watches you amusedly, removing his own suit jacket and discarding it onto the decorative armchair. Snorting, Vernon states the obvious, "a million weddings in one year would be impossible, Y/N."

"No shit, Sherlock," you laugh, rolling your eyes as you sit back up, already feeling your eyes falling heavy after the night you've had entertaining your family's antics. "Thanks for saving me yet again though. It's nice having a friend at these things, makes the time go by a lot faster."

A dejected sigh from Vernon goes unnoticed as you spring back up to your feet and walk to the bathroom, PJs crumpled in hand whilst you continue to ramble and rant about your family.

"But seriously, how many weddings can my family have in one year? Also, why are they so convinced we're together? I don't know how many times I have to reiterate that you are my best friend to them? They've known you for like how many years now?"

You can hear Vernon humming in agreement as you unzip your dress in the safety of the bathroom, a soft shuffling sound in the other room indicating that he is rooting through his own suitcase. You hope he doesn't hear the wavering of your voice as you mention the word 'best friend' yet again.

Admittedly, it's been slowly becoming harder to read Vernon these past few months, even though he's been your friend for as many years as you can count on two hands and then some. You had invited him to be your plus one to one of the many weddings you had to attend this year a few months ago, and ever since then you've been quelling thoughts of 'what if?'

Vernon has to suppress another snort when you emerge from the bathroom, the sudden reappearance of you in your tattered, old pajamas has him smiling crookedly in amusement.

"I'm sorry, but what are those?"

"What are what?" You look like a deer in headlights, hands dropping to your sides before taking in fistfuls of your pajama bottoms that should have been retired a long time ago. "Are you making fun of my pajamas?"

Vernon's laugh and smile are enough to make your heart feel like it's about to pound its way out of your chest, your own awkward chuckle combining with his as he approaches you.

"Y/N," he sighs, shaking his head with that ridiculous smile of his still adorning his features, eyes twinkling as he makes you spin for him. "These are ridiculous, how old are these pajamas?"

You shrug, still fisting the extremely soft material as you ponder jokingly about his question. "Maybe like 10 years. What? Do you not find Hello Kitty pajama bottoms cute?"

Vernon and you hold eye contact for a second longer until you are both bursting out into laughter.

"Cute," he ponders adoringly, pinching your arm before heading to the bathroom to change into his own pajamas. "Sure thing."

The interaction has your cheeks burning, noting the way Vernon seems to drink you in before going to change, soft eyes observing you in adoration briefly.

Yet again, you're quick to shake yourself out of it, shuffling into the hotel bed and cuddling with the heavy covers. Still, you're left to your own thoughts.

Why does he keep looking at you like that? It's that same stupid, endearing look in his eyes that seem to soften every time you come into view. It's the kind of look that makes your heart beat a little too fast for your liking. It's that kind of look that has you returning to those 'what if' thoughts.

Vernon is soon joining you in the bed, slipping under the sheets comfortably and shimmying in closer to you, utilizing your body heat as a source of warmth.

You've shared a bed with Vernon many times before, during sleepovers when you were children all the way to accompanying you in bed to make sure you were okay after a night of heavy drinking.

However, you swear with each wedding that you grow uneasier being this close in proximity to him. You are no longer able to avoid the ebbing feeling of butterflies fluttering in your lower stomach.

Vernon hums contently to himself as he relaxes deeper into the sheets and turns to face you. The soft sound of his breathing has goosebumps running down the back of your neck and you don't think you can bear to look at him, so you opt to flip around onto your side and face away from him.

You can practically feel his eyes burning a hole into the back of your head, your hair burning and ears tingling knowing that he is staring at you. It's making you feel restless, so you turn around with a hmph to face him once again.

"What," you whisper harshly, even though it's just you two in this dark, hotel room. The only bit of light is the soft, blue flickering light of the TV that Vernon refuses to turn off. "Why do you keep staring at me? You did it earlier when you picked me up for the wedding, on the dance floor, and even when I changed into my pajamas. You've been doing that too much lately."

He seems a bit guilty, jaw falling slack as his eyes become saucer-like, yet there is still a palpable tension in his stare. "What do you mean? I'm just looking at you."

"Like that!? Who looks at someone like that!" You exclaim, one hand escaping from underneath the covers to motion to his face, the other arm now propping you up to get a better look at him.

Vernon seems to be deep in thought for a second, thick eyebrows bunching up as he takes note of your frazzled demeanor. He also takes note of the undeniable blush that can still be seen even in the dim lighting.

"Y-you-" you're stuttering idiotically at this point, tripping over your words as he continues to stare intently at you.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" His voice is soft and raspy. It shuts you up for a second as you blink stupidly down at his painfully handsome bare face.

You're falling face first into your pillow, groaning loudly and shoving your face deeper into the plush fabric to escape the prison that his gaze has you in.

"No," you mumble loudly into the pillow. "It doesn't. I just feel weird."

He's laughing and it has you smiling like a fool into the pillow. There go those darn butterflies in your stomach again. "It makes you feel weird?"

You sit back up, this time crossing your legs and readjusting so you're not laying next to him. He's way too calm and cool for your liking, not liking the way his lips fall into a lopsided smile as he watches you adjust yourself.

"I don't know, Vernon. I don't know what I feel when you stare at me like that."

"Do you like it?" He's still unserious, but his voice is teetering between what seems like amusement and hopefulness. Your hands are subconsciously playing with the tattered hem of your pajama bottoms, and the habitual motion is enough for Vernon to grasp your hand with his.

"Maybe."

One heartbeat.

Another heartbeat.

Oh god, your ears are pounding from the way he's looking at you.

Vernon is tugging on your hand and pulling you into him, soft lips colliding with yours and knocking the wind out of you.

"Do you like this," he pulls away for a second, seeming just as breathless as you.

"Yes, I do."

"Cool," it's such a Vernon response, but in this case it's almost dizzying. With that, he's pulling you back in, lips hungrily reconnecting with yours, and both of his hands are coming up to cup your face to help guide you as he licks into your mouth.

The kiss is just as intense as his stare, almost as if Vernon is channeling all that pent-up energy into the delicate care and passion encapsulated by his lips on yours.

You feel as if you could overheat when his hands travel from your jaw all the way down to your hips, playing with the waistband of your pajamas. He grabs hold of your hips and flips you onto your back, never once disconnecting from you as he nibbles and suckles on your bottom lip.

"These," he finally breaks away, eyes roaming wildly over your features, and snapping the waistband of your bottoms against your skin. "These ridiculous things have to go."

"Please," you mewl, eyes screwed shut in need as his fingertips continue to tease at your hipbones. "Take them off, Vernon."

He's chuckling, but this time it's almost teasing, the sound making arousal burn at your core when he begins to tug at your bottoms. Your hips buck upwards to help him slip the slinky material off your body, ultimately turning Vernon's chuckle into a pained groan upon being greeted by your dripping pussy.

"Y/N," he mumbles softly, hands running up and down your thighs after discarding your bottoms. "Can I please?"

"Can you please what?" You know what he's asking, but seeing him look so desperate between your legs has you wanting to hear it directly.

"Can I taste you?"

You're nodding profusely, yelping in pleasure when he dives down between your legs, rough hands wrapping around both your thighs to keep you still as his wet tongue comes in contact with your throbbing clit.

"Fuck," you're immediately panting, his tongue working quickly as it runs firm circles around your clit. Vernon is staring up at you from between your thighs, thick eyebrows raised and dark, hungry eyes catching yours once again. "F-fuck, Vernon, you're giving me that look again."

This time he raises one brow, tongue running down your pussy and plunging teasingly into your sopping cunt. "What look?" He mumbles into your core, "taste so good, Y/N."

At this point, the warmth and pressure of his tongue has you reeling, the burning pit of arousal in your lower stomach heightening as he continues to messily eat you out. You're soon pushed over the edge, walls pulsing as Vernon continues to work his tongue from your little hole to your clit.

You're fisting a handful of his hair, feeling overstimulated way too fast after your first release, and pulling him back up. He's quick to engulf you in another kiss, the flavor of your lips and juices like ecstasy on his tongue.

He's shuffling out of his own pajama bottoms as you plea between fleeting kisses, begging to have him fill you. Vernon's innocence resurfaces for a minute as he panics, realizing there is no way he packed a condom. (He's not looking for a random hook-up at your family weddings, nor did he think this would ever actually happen, no matter how long he's pined over you.)

"Fuck, Vernon," you moan, pussy throbbing in need as Vernon continues to rut his length teasingly between your folds whilst he searches for a condom anywhere - maybe there is one in his wallet. "Just fuck me without one. I'm clean and on the pill."

"Ah," he hisses, the thought of you taking him raw making him feel like he could burst. "I'm clean too, are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure," you confirm, hands grabbing at him to pull him closer to you.

"F-Fuck, Y/N," he's obliging, his thick, leaky tip dipping in between your folds and sinking into your tight, little cunt. His body shakes as he plunges deep inside of you, hips bottoming out and getting sucked in completely by your walls.

You're shaking too, heavy breaths soothing you as you adjust to his thickness and length. He wasn't massive, but he was more than enough to deliciously stretch you out. Vernon's convinced he could bust just from the feeling of your walls fluttering and adjusting around him, staring down at you with starry eyes as your face contorts in pleasure.

Vernon suddenly feels as if he has a purpose, watching as your jaw falls slack when he experimentally pulls out just to thrust back in, immediately finding the spongey spot deep in your core.

He's addicted to your reactions, the way you look so beautiful with each precise thrust and spear of his cock inside of you. He's memorizing the way your eyes roll back and clamp shut, remembering how your pouty lips scream his name, noting how your cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink.

Vernon's come to realize he can't get enough of you. He's going to forever be hooked on everything about you, and now that he's tasted and felt your perfect pussy, you won't ever get rid of him.

This passion he feels is reflected in the way he roughly fucks you, hips snapping into yours just to pull another delightful moan from your lips. You can feel the bed rocking as he fucks even deeper into your pussy, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as you feel your impending orgasm build.

His motions slowly become sloppy, and the explicit squelching of your walls sucking him in has him groaning with each messy rut of his hips. Vernon is still keen on watching you though, wanting to see your features as you come undone beneath him.

"C'mon, Y/N," he beckons, his length continuing to fill you so perfectly as your walls flutter around him. He can feel you getting impossibly tighter, loving the way your legs keep him close as he pounds into you. "Look at me, please, let me see you."

You're listening to him, eyes opening to look back at him in the same way he's looking at you. There's that damn look again, but this time it has you falling apart for him. The way your walls spasm around his cock and the orgasmic glow of your features has him coming with you, filling you deeply with his cum as your core throbs in pleasure from the intensity of your orgasm mixing with his.

You're absolutely fucked out, the two of you breathless as Vernon reluctantly pulls out, and opts to clean you up quickly. You can't help but hide your face when he happily joins you back in bed, that same stupid look on his features that landed him here in the first place.

You're positive you'll be receiving a noise complaint from the hotel. Hopefully, none of the other wedding guests are staying around you, especially after you've been parading around with him as your "platonic" friend for the past few months (ahem, years).

#seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #chwe vernon smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #hansol vernon chwe smut #[💌] anon #[💌] asks #i love you for this #i love me some vernon hard thots

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 3 months

Text

Kinkuary Day 8

AN: I want to make it clear that Black Eye Vernon is the Vernon of all time. He released that solo specifically for me, and I have at least 15 fic ideas involving Black Eye Vernon in particular. This is one of them. Is spitting and Vernon cliché? Yes. Will I still eat it up every single time? Yes.

Synopsis: Vernon always feels alive after a great show. One of his favourite ways to celebrate is with you. Especially when you indulge him.

General tags and warnings: Hansol Vernon Chwe x Fem! Reader, established relationship, rockstar! Vernon and I think that's it really. Very much pwp.

Primary kink: Spitting.

Smut tags and warnings: Not exactly power dynamics but, Reader is a little more in charge, pegging, masturbation, some praise, spitting, hints of overstimulation (m. receiving), cumplay and snowballing (sort of).

Word count: 1k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Vernon always looks electric on stage. Forcing everyone in the audience's eyes on him from the second his set begins until the very end. And you're no exception.

You've seen him perform more times than you can count by now but, you still find yourself drawn into his husky vocals and magnetic aura. Your pulse never fails to quicken when he shoots you a smile meant only for you to tell you he knows he absolutely killed it tonight. Even with the sweat dripping off of him and his smeared eyeliner, he looks like the he's king of the world.

Which is why you let him choose his favourite strap tonight. It's always been hard for you to tell him no in general but, it's especially difficult after he looks so proud and happy with himself. His heart-shaped smile nearly splitting his handsome face in half. How could you ever dream of saying no to him?

Watching him on stage is easily one of your favourite ways to drink him in but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't even come close to the vision he creates sprawled out on his back. His black locks sticking to his sweaty forehead while his unfocused eyes stare off somewhere you could only hope to decipher. The smudge of his liner is always hot but, it's even more unfairly attractive now.

“You look so pretty, Nonnie,” you whisper in awe, clutching onto his hips tighter and delighting in the way his back arches when you thrust into him much harsher than before. He chokes on a moan of your name and you can feel your wetness smearing your inner thighs further. God, if you were a little more greedy you'd sit on his cock in an instant. However, tonight isn't about you.

You're not nearly as strong as Vernon. Really, he could easily squirm his way out of your hold but you know, despite the shyness he feigns, he enjoys this far too much. As evidenced by the throaty whimpers and groans that leave his bruised lips every time you fuck into him and the copious amounts of pre-cum leaking onto his stomach. It's hard to pick what to focus on when you fuck him. Between his gorgeous, fucked out face, his thick bobbing cock and his cute hole that spreads easily for his favourite toy, it's a difficult choice.

Vernon, however, makes that choice for you when his hand hurriedly grabs his cock and starts stroking it in a frenzy. The chains around his neck clink loudly against one another when he throws his head. Meeting your thrusts as best as he can while he fucks his fist. You're sure you've dripped onto his fancy hotel sheets by now but, you're too enamoured with the start of him falling apart to give too much thought to the dull pain between your thighs.

You can tell he can't quite get there yet when whines of frustration start to pour out of him. However, an idea quickly pops into your head and you can't help the grin that spreads across your face. Well, there's nothing wrong with relying on a tried and tested method.

“Nonnie, baby, open your mouth for me,” you command sweetly, noting the way his strokes falter and his eyes glaze over at your command. Vernon, being ever the obedient boy that he is, complies without any more prompting. His bruised lips parting for you in an instant, his tongue sticking out to ensure he doesn't miss a drop and fuck, does he look hot.

Collecting as much of your spit as you can, you lean down until you're close enough to see every mark on his face and his individual lashes. While you're fond of keeping him waiting, tonight isn't that kind of night. One of your hands moves from where it was digging into his hip to wind itself into his dark locks to angle him better. He moves willingly. Anticipating your next move. Fortunately for him, you don't keep him on the edge of his seat much longer. Spitting into his open mouth without any more fanfare.

His response is instantaneous.

He greedily swallows your spit, squeezing his eyes shut when his orgasm slams into him like a runaway train. His entire body shudders and squirms underneath you. Ropes and ropes of his thick, sticky cum decorating his cute stomach. You continue to fuck him through his release albeit much more slowly and gently. His throaty moans and choked groans all feeding the desire that's been simmer in your core since you got your hands on him what feels like hours ago.

“Ah fuck too-too much,” he manages to babble out, one of his hands gripping your wrist in an attempt to get you to stop abusing his sweet spot. As much as you'd love to push him just a little bit further, you think he's had enough for now so, you stop. Your gaze drifting from his flushed, sweaty face, down to his chest until you reach the streaks of cum on his stomach. Before you can stop yourself, you reach down to scoop up as much of his cum as you can with your fingers and shove them into your mouth. You moan the second he hits your tastebuds. Your eyes fluttering shut while you savour his taste.

It takes you a moment to realise that Vernon is watching this entire spectacle with wide eyes and parted lips. Despite cumming not too long ago, you do notice his cock jump. Maybe you will get to sit on it tonight after all.

Pushing that thought to the side, another idea springs to your mind and you're sure your face betrays your thoughts when you notice him gulp. It would be comical if you weren't so wet and worked up. Mixing his cum with your spit, you lean down towards him one more time. And fuck does your clit pulse at the way he opens his mouth eagerly and sticks out his tongue. You spit into his mouth much slower this time. Letting your combined fluids take their time hitting his tongue.

Still, it's eternally satisfying watching the way he melts when it does finally slip into his mouth. If you keep this up, you might just be able to get him hard again in record time. And based on the way he chases the taste of your spit and his cum with his pretty, pink tongue, you think he might be into the idea too.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Kinkuary Masterlist | Seventeen Masterlist | Ko-fi.

#hansol vernon chwe smut #vernon chwe smut #chwe vernon smut #chwe hansol smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #seventeen smut #hansol vernon chwe x reader smut #vernon x reader smut #seventeen x reader smut #hansol x reader smut #vernon chwe x reader smut

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bitchlessdino · 2 years

Text

With Intention

Pairing: fwb!vernon x gn!reader

Genre: smut with some plot

Word count: 1.9k

tags: pining, top!vern, possessive vernon, teasing vernon, jealous vernon, cocky vernon, third wheel!Jun, unprotected sex, hickies, pearl necklace

Summary: There was no room for feelings when you weren't exclusive, but Vernon couldn't let you walk upright when he knew it in his gut that couldn't be anyone else's but his.

author note: for my beloved xan. I definitely needed this vernon inspo. i lub you beloved, IM SORRY MY BANNER IS ASS :') @aceofvernons

This was the 56th night that you slept over, not like Vernon was counting. You roll onto your established side of his bed and let out a soft moan, letting the twenty-something-year-old man wake up at around 4 am in the middle of the night. He glances towards your exposed back, invitingly glaring back at him, hesitating to reach out and embrace you from behind. Ultimately, he refrains and keeps his hands to himself.

Friends with benefits was not a new concept to him. He had developed previous relationships in the past with ease, all ending due to reasons like college transfers or moving on to relationships. Never did he expect to walk on eggshells in another situation like it.

You were the one to approach him as many have, but you were the only one to be a complete stranger to him upon the offer. Your only reason is that you found him insanely attractive and that you would love to show him a good time. Vernon, flattered, took advantage of your advances and the first night was like most that he spent accompanied. You were better than most people he’s slept with so it became reoccurring, lasting longer than any relationship he’s ever had, even the serious ones.

Never in the time he’s been alive did he feel lingering thoughts of someone he had no intention of committing to. You made him second-guess his own actions. Even if you hadn’t chosen to spend the night, you still would've been the last person he’d think about. You’d be the first person and last person he’d want to talk to in bed. Every afterthought he had involved you.

You slightly shudder, feeling a draft in your slumber and Vernon instinctively pulls up the blanket, closing the gap between both your bodies. His arm drapes over your naked body and his nose presses against the nape of your neck. He tries to be careful to not breathe heavily in hope of you not waking up, but in turn, he basks in your scent. Okay, he’ll let himself have this one thing.

The next day went about mostly normal. You had an early class so you couldn’t say long besides have a bite of breakfast and that’s when you mentioned how you probably wouldn’t be seeing him for the rest of the week. His eyes look up from his scrambled eggs to ask why as he forks through the remaining absent-mindedly.

“I have a date this week,” You answered with a full mouth.

“A date?”

He should’ve expected sooner or later. The was no reason for you to hold back for his sake. If you wanted to go on this date, it was up to you, not to him. He remains solemn, offering only curt nods as you went into details. Once you were finished, you picked up your stuff and give him your leave, the image of you and some random third party on a date. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

However, he couldn’t let that thought be the reason he changed the trajectory of how he lived his life. That day he goes to his regularly scheduled classes. He meets the friends he was used to seeing every day. He eats the same foods. He does nothing different than he normally would. Nothing but one thing.

You stuck out from the corner of his eye, smiling and walking side by side with a man he didn’t even recognize. His gaze shifts ever so slightly in the path you walk, gripping his cotton sweats, half listening to whatever Seungkwan and Chan were bickering about. He couldn’t get the way you laughed out of his head, smiling at the stranger and gradually leaving his line of vision.

He had no right to involve himself. You and Vernon were two entirely separate entities. You have no bind, no reason for Vernon to have any problem with this. Yet, here he was getting up from the picnic table. His friends were initially startled but questioned nothing seeing as their friends has already set their sights. One foot over the other trodding in your path which you took, speed walking faster than he has ever sped walked. His hand was on your shoulder before he could stop himself.

You peer over your shoulder, pleasantly surprised with Vernon. “Oh, hey! I didn’t expect to see you. What’s up?”

The man beside you subtly shifts his expression but quickly adjusts to the situation. This gave Vernon some relief, unbeknownst to the truth, and gave you a slightly confident grin. “I saw you from over there and thought I’d say hi.”

“I’m just out,” You shrug, and you tug your acquaintance’s arms, “This is Jun. Jun, this is Vernon.”

Vernon nods at the guy nonchalantly and Jun reciprocates.

“Well, I’ll let you be, but before you leave,” He leans over too close to your ear, lips almost making with your skin, and whispers in the most taunting tone of voice, “Let’s see what job I have to finish after you’re done with this guy.”

Your eyes shoot out of your sockets, blinking at him before watching him walk away in a confident stride. You stood speechless briefly, before returning to your Jun, having not expected such a thing to happen in the middle date. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”

Vernon was for once feeling a sense of pride knowing that this ‘Jun’ was aware of his existence and would start feeling threatened. He goes about his day, knowing that you’d be thinking about what he said all day. An hour or so later, like clockwork, your messages flood his inbox. In the comfort of his apartment, he slouches in his armchair and texts back with smug grin.

You: what was that about?

Vernon: um? What

You: you said that thing earlier? What exactly was that?

Vernon: what did I say

You: you’re so doing this on purpose. I can't believe you

Vernon: why are you so bothered by what you said

You: its

You take a beat.

You: its unlike you

Vernon: what makes you say that

You: you don’t say those kinds of things. If I knew any better, I’d think you were jealous.

Maybe he was acting jealous. Perhaps it was because of the months you’ve slept together, it looked just wrong to see you just move past that. It was natural to feel a bit territorial with someone like that.

Vernon: I just know, at least with me, I can guarantee you an orgasm

You take another beat.

You: you better be stripped down to your boxers the second I’m at your place.

It was fortunate you only live a building over. In under ten minutes, Vernon hears knocking at his door and he greets you with a bare torso and the same pair of sweats, hinting his anticipation beneath. You pant, clutching the door frame. “I said to be only in your underwear, didn’t I?”

“I thought you’d like the pleasure of taking it off yourself.”

He reaches out for your arm and tugs you by the wrist, while you shut the door behind you. Your body collides with his in an instant and his arms collapse around you seamlessly. Your hands creep up the back of his head and lace through his hair, your lips fitting his like pieces to a puzzle. You feel that rare, devious smile form on his lips, and before you know it, you’re half naked in his lap on the sofa.

Your legs draping over his lap and his hands squeezing at your ass over your underwear. He clutches you like you’re his, his soft grunts drowning out your gasps. His tongue paves way in your mouth when you start to feel his fingers slip underneath the fabric, your arousal slick and vicious. Your eyes flutter as grows rough with every stroke, his hips twitching up and down, the hard-on poking into you.

“You’re such a tease…” You say in hushed whispers.

“I think you deserve a little tease, personally.” he chuckles.

You shift over his body to straddle him, rolling your hips down on his erection harshly, “Speak for yourself. Don’t play dumb like you dont know what you did to me today.”

“I think you and I both know he can’t offer what I can.”

You scoff. “Why so confident all of a sudden? Why now?”

“Because you know I’m right.”

He lifts you from briefly, tugging off his sweatpants so they’d fall to his ankles, peeling off his boxers soon after. You read him immediately and held his full length in your hand, heart pounding out of your cheat. “We’re not gonna talk about this civily?”

“You lost that opportunity when you told me to strip down.”

Vernon takes the initative to hold either end of your underwear, ripping its seams to give him easy access. You shriek at him immediately softening when you feel him push inside you, bouncing your ass repeatedly in his lap. Your mouth ajar and eyes close, adjusting to his size. Either of your hands land on his shoulders, pressing up against him for balance.

Your breathing uneven and your body shaking, you whimper into the nape of his neck, cuss words invading Vernons ear canal. His nails marks the flesh of your ass, pounding you harder against him, groaning at the sensation. You come to his aid by pushing your weight against him. Your lips ghost over his in the weakest pants, clenching around him. He pushes your hair from out of your eyes, kissing you from your chin to down your jaw, his teeth gnashing your skin.

“Vernon! Hickies!” You try pulling away, but was halted when he grabbed at back of you head, biting and sucking until it became something he could be proud of.

He thrusts into you as he mark another patch of skin, ignoring your incomprehensible pleas. You feel your eyes roll back to your skull, succumbing to his control, and simply hold on to him without a doubt in your mind. Your orgasm was coming close and hot that whatever he did, it didn’t matter. “I think I’m gonna cum…”

Vernon’s hands lay flat against your back, his head thrown back as thrusts faster, his grunts getting louder and more sporadic. “Fucking cum then.”

You stare down at his eyes, holding on to that gaze for as long as he has the energy. Your body shudders on top of him feeling it hit you hard, hips twitching uncontrollably while he takes up his time and energy. He fucks into you with sheer force, his body slouching gradually, gasping loudly at every plunge. Before making any hasty decisions, he pushes you flat on your back against the couch, letting hot cum fall to your heaving chest.

Your eyes hardly open, looking up at him all fucked out. His perspiration making his hair damp stuck to his forehead, his upper body was clammy and weak, but eyes as wide as a doe.

“You little fucker.”

The man chuckles at your insult and reaches down to kiss you with intention, something he’s never imagined himself doing before. You reciprocate, your tongue almost making a reappearance until he pulls away, having you sense his moment of avoidance. “What’s wrong?”

His stare lacks it’s typical gumption. His kiss bruised lips quivers as he tries to bring the exact words running through his mind. In the end, all he could muster up to say was:

“Another round in five?”

#vernon smut #vernon chwe #chwe hansol smut #chwe vernon smut #seventeen smut #chwe vernon #chwe hansol #seventeen vernon #seventeen scenarios #seventeen hansol #seventeen fanfic #vernon fanfic #vernon hansol chwe #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon x y/n

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jyvnho · 2 years

Note

All I want in life is to slowly make out with vernon for hours on end and not have it lead into everything. Hands exploring each other’s bodies and hands in each other’s hair whispering dirty talk 😩

vernon is a messy kisser — i'm talking tongue for days, kisses that don't always stay directly on your own mouth, and an abundance of spit. vernon likes sloppy — he likes it slow yet desperate, desperate enough to not care about the mess the two of you are making together or the redness that's forming around both his and your mouths. all he cares about is giving you more and more until you can't help but think only of him — his mouth, and the feeling of his hands roughly yet slowly dragging down to your hips

#( . . . hard )#seventeen smut #svt smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #chwe hansol smut #chwe vernon smut #kpop smut #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 5 months

Text

Old Money, Bratty Honey

pairing: bodyguard!Wonwoo x heiress!reader x bodyguard!Vernon

genre: smut - minors dni.

warnings: car sex (a limo specifically), public sex (the windows are tinted but still), mean dom!wonwoo, switch!vernon, brat!reader, sir kink, edging, hair pulling, blowjobs, facefucking, degradation, masturbation, voyeurism, cum swallowing, reader is rich and spoiled (yk how the rest goes)

requested by @onlymingyus

word count: 1.7k

summary: being born in money gives you the chance to try pretty much everything in the world - that includes fucking your two hot bodyguards in your dad's limousine.

Author's note: hello <3 this fic was requested by beloved mars - the unesco forum pics did a LOT of damage

tagging: @gyuwoncheol @wonwussy bcs they asked to suffer so here we are

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Do you remember your speech?”

“Tch, of course I do.” You roll your eyes. “I wrote it myself, remember?”

“I know you did. Just wanted to check whether your brain cells are still active.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Unlucky for you, they are very much intact and in better shape than yours.” You bite back.

“Is there any time of any day where the two of you don’t argue?” Vernon groans from behind you. “Can we just…enjoy the little time we have left until we arrive at the venue?”

“Mmm, of course we can, Nonie.” You turn your attention to your other bodyguard. “He’s never fun, either way. But you are way more fun, right?” You make yourself comfortable in his lap, your manicured hands smoothing over his chest.

“Anything for you, honey. You know me.” Vernon smirks and leans in the crevice of your neck, lips and tongue gliding over your skin.

Wonwoo sighs in defeat and averts his eyes from the unfolding scene, trying to ignore it.

If it wasn’t for the hefty salary that gets deposited every month in his bank account, he wouldn’t even be here. He would rather be walking at a dingy bar, rather than have to babysit a rich brat like you.

And the worst thing of all? You’re smart and hot as fuck - to the point where he wants to stuff your mouth full of his dick and make you cry.

You’re aware of how uptight and cold Wonwoo is towards you and you can’t really blame him for his attitude - being head of security under your dad basically requires that attitude. Which makes messing around with him even more fun for you.

Vernon, on the other hand, is your assigned personal bodyguard and would fold in half for you, if you asked him to. One bat of your eyelashes is enough to make him cave to any request of yours, thus giving you the perfect cover for your night escapades.

But of course, he always gets rewarded for his secrecy and faith to you - in the form of letting him fuck you dumb more than often.

This is one of the occasions where you want to mess around with both of them at the same time.

You throw the fabric of your gown backwards to uncover your legs and give yourself enough space to grind your clothed pussy over Vernon’s slacks.

“Careful with your gown, honey.” He reminds you.

“It’s just fabric, I could have tens of that.” You grin towards him.

“How rich and bratty, coming from you.” Wonwoo comments with a venomous tone.

“Yeah, that’s because I am rich, bratty, pretty and smart and you want to fuck me so bad.” You reply boldly.

He slides next to Vernon and grips your jaw with his right hand, keeping it steady directly in front of his face.

“You’re right, little bitch. I want to fuck the brat out of you, to the point you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice feels deeper and colder than the ocean, his eyes burning holes in your skull through his horn-rimmed glasses.

You almost hate how hot and fuckable Wonwoo looks today - but you’ve always wanted to know what’s hidden under his professional attire.

“I would like to see you try, you fucking nerd. I bet you’re still a virgin-”

He cuts you off by dragging you off Vernon’s lap and pushes you down on your knees, between his thighs.

“Dude, what the hell!” Vernon glares at the older man.

“Shut the fuck up, Vernon. You have gotten plenty of time with her since you got your job. Now sit back and watch.” Wonwoo orders him as he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring free.

Your eyes widen at the size and it makes your mouth fill with saliva and your pussy dampens your Victoria’s Secret panties.

“Tell me, Vernon - Does the pretty brat over here like to suck dick?” Wonwoo asks with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he runs his fist over his shaft.

“Y-Yeah, she does.” The younger man stutters.

“Does she swallow?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Yes what, Vernon?”

“Yes s-sir.”

“Hm, at least one of you can behave.” Wonwoo turns his attention to you again.

“Enjoying the power trip, Wonwoo?” You place your hands over his thighs, rubbing them up and down.

“It’s Sir for you, little brat.” He puts his hand behind your neck and brings your face close enough to let his cock slap against your cheek. “Now put your smartass mouth to good use, will you?”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You rile him up even more.

Wonwoo threads his hands in the back of your hair and forcefully slides his cock in your mouth. You gag when the tip hits your throat, but you manage to suppress your reflex with ease.

“Fuck, honey…” Vernon curses under his breath and starts palming himself over his pants.

“No need to be jealous, Vernon - I’m sure you have experienced this already, right?” Wonwoo chuckles as he uses your hair as leverage to fuck your face.

“I could get used to this, Y/N - this cock-stuffed version of yours is quite likable.”

You grunt in response and purposefully drag your teeth over his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. He drags you off his cock and pulls you upwards, forcing your back to arch.

“Do that one more time and your daddy will find out his precious daughter is a fucking slut.” He threatens you.

“You don’t want to do this, Sir.” You slur the title on purpose. “You’ll be at loss in the end, especially after fucking me like you wanted to,” you grip his wrist, “So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you fuck me stupid. How does that sound?” You grin.

“Little bitch.” Wonwoo scoffs and puts your mouth back on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so damn pretty.” Vernon moans on the side, his own pants long unbuttoned, hand stroking his pre-cum coated dick.

Your eyes flit to the younger man and you send him a wink, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo.

“Eyes on me, brat. And you,” he snaps his head towards Vernon, “You better not fucking cum until I say so.”

“S-Sir, I won’t-”

“Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” He repeats with something akin to a growl.

“Fuck, I won’t!” Vernon whines in defeat, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his hand slowing down to keep himself on edge.

You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, nails digging in the fabric of his pants as you hollow your cheeks and do your best to bring him closer to his orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum- You better swallow every last drop like you do with him, princess.”

You bat your eyelashes to let him know you’re ready and he presses your head until you’ve taken him till the base. You can feel the saltiness of his cum coursing down your throat. You pin your eyes on Wonwoo and stare at him until you’ve sucked his cock clean, swallowing till the last drop.

He retracts his hand and lets you get off his lap, whispering a few words in your ear, low enough to not be heard by anyone else.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I really need to fucking cum and I don’t want to bust my nut all over the suit.” Vernon half moans, hand gripping his cock tight.

You move between his legs with a sultry smile and engulf his cock with your mouth. It only takes him a few harsh sucking motions of your lips to make him cum, a string of heavy breaths and moans coming out of his mouth.

You release his shaft with an obscene popping sound, opening your mouth to show him the amount of cum in it. You swallow it in one gulp, licking your lips clean.

“Filthy little slut.” Wonwoo clicks his tongue as he tucks himself back in.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Vernon clears his throat and tidies himself as well.

“That was definitely fun,” you sit back on the leather seats and open your purse to take out a pack of wet wipes and clean your hands. A small hair brush follows right after and you fix your hair, as if they were never touched in the first place.

“How is your makeup still intact?” Vernon asks you with narrowed eyes.

“Ever heard of waterproof makeup?” You side eye him.

“As long as Daddy is paying, everything must be on point for his pretty little heiress.” Wonwoo comments. “We’re here, be ready.”

“No need to remind me of my job, Wonwoo.”

As soon as he opens the door of the limousine to help you out, you’re welcomed with countless flashing cameras and microphones shoved in your way, but Vernon rushes next to your side to keep them at a safe distance.

You put on your finest smile for the cameras, knowing which way to turn your head so the gossip magazines will have only your best shots.

The noises of the crowd are drowned out once the three of you enter the venue of the gala and your bodyguards double check that everything is okay and you can proceed.

“How ironic to see the two of you being so professional while you were cumming like highschool boys just a few minutes ago.” You giggle.

“How ironic to see you acting like a proper lady after sucking off your security entourage in your daddy’s limousine like a cheap whore.” Wonwoo smirks and you fight back the urge to hit his head with your purse, as you walk over to the table with your assigned seat.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy about it.” Vernon covers his mouth to hide his grin.

“And you should have been more discreet with your visits in her room.” Wonwoo almost snaps at him with a stern look on his face.

“You’re not actually gonna snitch, are you?” The younger man looks at him partially horrified.

Wonwoo’s lips curl in a dirty smirk and he leans into Vernon’s ear.

“As long as you’re willing to stand guard in front of her door all night long while I’m teaching the little brat some manners, then your dirty secret is safe with me.”

Vernon pokes his cheek with his tongue, wishing he was able to shove his fist in Wonwoo’s face.

“So? Are you willing to do that, Chwe?”

“.....Yes sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

#svthub #wonwoo smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #svt wonwoo #svt vernon #jeon wonwoo #hansol vernon chwe #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen

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bittersweet-folder · 5 months

Note

“types of kinks svt has” maknae line ver??

~□☆seventeen imagines

~♡Types of kinks I think seventeen has [maknae line version]

• Here's the hyung line version • masterlist • if you wanna be in the taglist for fics then comment under my master list •

Song rec: funny valentine by misamo🚶🏻‍♀️

[MINORS DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT] [ reader is female with vagina and breasts ]

☆Mingyu: (a switch a pure switch through and through)

Creampie: this man loves lovessss it messy and the way he's so fucking vocal, he can't keep his in moans under control. He will moan loudly because of the way you feel so warm and wet around him.

Mommy kink: I personally can imagine Mingyu whining and moaning "mommy" or "noona" even into the reader's ears more than him taking control. He likes it rough but you gotta give him kisses like anywhere. He's a huge softie.

Edging: just like he loves you taking control it also goes the way around too. He loves seeing you struggling to cum.

Sensory deprivation: blindfold him and it's enough for him to go feral

Begging: told y'all he's a softie also down bad for you.

Praise kink: he knows he's big so yeah. And he literally worships your beauty.

Extras: he loves you're boobs and will rest his chin on them afterwards while pulling you closer on the bed

☆Minghao: (a mean yet soft switch with a dom lean)

Edging: so mean I swear and literally loves seeing you all frustrated and become a moaning mess under him.

Waxplay: hmmm Minghao is artist so expect this. and of course he'll use wax which is skin safe.

Bondage:really depends on his mood if he wants to tie you up or not. (* clears throat * that live y'all. remember?🚶🏻‍♀️) and he would let you tie him up as well. Gets so flushed up when you do so.

Spanking: only if you're into it.

Begging: oh he wants you to beg for what you want him to do in the bedroom.

Creampie: I am hoping it's very self explanatory by the first point itself

Slight dacryphilia: sometimes it's so good to him to see you in tears on how he's making you feel.

Extras: is a whore for you in his shirt, riding him until he can't take it anymore.

☆Dokyeom: (a huge softieee switch)

Oral fixation: he's in love. He's love making with you so expect him to be pussy drunk.

Creampie: once is never enough for him. He needs more.

Riding: you riding him in a cowgirl position is enough to drive him crazy. He's so loud and a literal moaning mess under you.

Praise kink: you both literally worship each other's body. He's literally so down bad for you.

Foreplay: it's a must sweetheart we shouldn't forget how much of a softie this man is. He's literally melting into those kisses.

Teasing: idk if I should count this as a kink but yeahh he'll tease the hell outta you once he gets the confidence to.

Extras: he has a thing for you in lingerie. Man's awestruck and so turn on just by the sight of you on lingerie.

☆Seungkwan: (oh he's a fucking power bottom you CANNOT convince me otherwise)

Teasing: he lives to rile you up the best way possible.

Mommy/noona kink: if you're older than him then expect him to moan "noona" while you're fucking him into oblivion. Or even if you aren't he will he will moan mommy.

Marking: he loves claiming what's his and what he can't share.

Pegging: if he's in the mood he'll let you know.

Dacryphilia: he will cry a bit outta pleasure because you're making him feel too good.

Oral fixation: oh he loves eating you out.

Edging: he might seem sweet and sassy but this man loves to see you struggling to reach your high. That goes around the other way as well by the way.

Degradation kink : it's like a once in a blue moon thing when he's "misbehaving".

Extras: he's a softie too. Take care of him. Oh and also he loves it when you ride him in a cowgirl position. He gets very very touchy and moans quite loudly.

☆Vernon ( a soft dom who can go hard later on if you want him too)

Praise kink: yeah Vernon's quiet so what? He's literally so drunk in love he loves praising you and your body.

Foreplay: he lives for those intimate touches and soft kisses before proceeding more.

Marking: oh he can get jealous so he loves claiming what's only his and no one can have it.

Spit kink: if you're into it. Expect him to get nastier after being soft with you.

Teasing: oh he'll tease the hell outta you.

Creampie: he needs more and he knows you do too. He loves it messy and sweaty.

Dacryphilia: oh if he's jealous he will make you cry on his cock.

Extras: he plays all those sensual songs you love when he fucking you into oblivion.

☆Dino ( a soft yet mean dom who loves it rough eventually)

Daddy kink: does this need an explanation? I hope not.

Edging: hmmmm the grin he has on his face while looking are your tired, sweaty flushed up face after not being able to reach an orgasm.

Praise kink: "such a good girl" "You're doing so well, give me one more? Yeah" Man worships your body literally.

Foreplay: we all know how romantic he is. And there will be a session of intimate touches and kisses because he knows you love it just as much as he does.

Spanking: this is like a one in a blue moon thing when he's jealous.

Creampie: he just can't get enough of you. He needs and craves more.

Squirting: man lives for pushing your limits. He fucking devours the view of your exhausted flushed up body after he's made you squirt.

Extras: he loves it when you ride him he loves it when you wanna take control.

don't try to pull any weird stunt of stupidity by pirating my works 🤨✋🏻

A/n: have been mentally exhausted these days and college is tiring. So sorry for the late response anon! Love y'all. Thanks for any kinda support. Also the taglist is only kept for fics I'll write.

Updates about other fics will be posted later.

Thanks for the support.

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sluttywonwoo · 10 months

Note

thinking about fucking virgin vernon 😭😵‍💫

“are you sure you want this?” you ask, strained.

your thighs are burning with the effort it takes to hold yourself up over vernon’s lap but you need to make sure he’s ready before sinking down onto his cock. it’s his first time after all, and you want it to be perfect.

you’re so wet, your arousal is literally dripping down the shaft of his dick, all the way to his fingers where they’re wrapped around the base. you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been but you need to hear him say the words before you put it in (obviously).

“yeah,” he breathes, “slow— just slow. ‘m sensitive.”

you’d jerked him off a bit to get him hard(er) and he had to stop you twice with frantic yelps and grabs at your wrists, mumbling that he was about to cum and didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“i’ve got you, baby,” you assure him, placing one hand on each of his shoulder before lowering yourself onto his cock as slowly as you possibly can.

the stretch is divine. an ungodly sound slips from between your boyfriend’s lips as he feels your warmth surround him. he can hardly bear to look at you, squinting through fluttering eyelashes as he fights to keep his eyes open.

“feel good?” you ask.

“feels goddamn perfect,” he rasps, “fuck me.”

“i already am.”

“very. funny.”

“thanks, i try.” you grin at him, carding your fingers through his hair. “can i move now?”

“no!” he shouts. his eyes had already shot open, but they widen when he realizes just how loud he was being. “please don’t move yet, baby. i-i’ll cum if you do.”

“okay, okay, i’ll stay still. i promise!”

his cheeks are impossibly pink, both with embarrassment and exertion, but he seems to relax a little when you reassure him again. “thank you… i’m sorry for yelling.”

you brush him off with a wink. “you can make it up to me later. just do whatever feels good. don’t hold back even when you’re getting close. i want you to enjoy it.”

#answered #anon #seventeen smut #svt smut #vernon smut #chwe vernon smut #hansol smut #chwe hansol smut

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kumawaii · 4 months

Text

SHE’S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU | VNC

cw - manipulation, toxic behaviors, possessiveness, masturbation (m), voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

— for the anon who requested it!

∘₊✧─── 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽 ───✧₊∘

bestie!vernon is always chill. you’ve seen him lose his composure a total of five times, but even then you can’t really say he lost lost it. it’s one of the reasons he’s become your safe space. and because that’s what he means to you, you always put him first.

it’s the same for him. bestie!vernon never hesitates to let you — and everyone else — know that you’re his top priority. he loves the feeling that comes along with being your number one. not only because he knows he can never do any wrong in your eyes, but because he can see the amount of affection you have for him every time he looks at you.

this all is horribly derailed when you mention that you’re going to start dating again. you’re excited when you tell him about the guy who happens to be a friend of one of his friends. bestie!vernon feels a bile rising up his throat when you go on and on about how he’s a sweet guy who gives you butterflies. it’s hard for him to put on a smile and act like he’s happy for you.

on the night of your date, you get a message from bestie!vernon asking if you can drop off the book he let you borrow. in spite of him never asking for anything back in the course of your entire friendship (he always let you use his things until you were done without any pressure), you don’t think it’s strange. so an hour before you’re meant to meet your date, you stop by his apartment.

you let yourself in with your spare key after he doesn’t answer your call. the apartment is quiet as you head for bestie!vernon’s room. his door is cracked open and you can vaguely make out his body laying on his bed.

just as you’re about to call out to him, you hear the prettiest moan ever. like a deer caught in headlights you stop just outside the door. now you have a clear view of bestie!vernon jerking off on his bed. your pussy gets wet instantly at the sight of his big, pretty cock. his eyes are screwed shut as he slowly fucks his hand.

it’s disgusting how long you stand there and watch. everything about what you’re doing is wrong, but you can’t look away. bestie!vernon is just so hot, and he sounds so cute as he pleasures himself. you can feel your panties start to stick to your cunt the longer you watch him. eventually, you decide that you have to leave because what you’re doing is sick.

you stop mid-step when you hear your name. it doesn’t sound like an i caught you call, but a fucking moan. bestie!vernon keeps whimpering and moaning your name, bucking his naked hips into his hand. you can’t believe it, and the turn of events has you so out of your mind that you act without thinking.

“vernon.”

your best friend lets out a surprised yelp when he hears your voice. his eyes get wide as he sits up and scrambles to cover himself. you’re incredibly turned on as bestie!vernon turns red, unable to meet your eyes. it’s silent for a moment. the air is thick and heavy with tension that feels like it might snap at any moment.

“i thought you were stopping by later.” bestie!vernon sounds so embarrassed, but you think it’s the cutest thing ever.

“your text said six.” you say, not taking your eyes off his poorly covered cock which is still oozing with precum.

“i-i swore i typed seven—” vernon stutters, finally looking at you.

something inside you snaps when you meet his embarrassed yet needy gaze. bestie!vernon lets out a deep groan when you pounce on him, lips messily colliding with his. you snatch his hands away from his crotch as you two fall back on his bed and bring them up to cup your tits. he moans into your mouth, gently squeezing as his tongue plays with yours.

when bestie!vernon is easing his cock into your dripping cunt, you’re already delirious. he starts fucking you with a rough precision you didn’t expect from him. he slaps your ass as it bounces back on his cock, already obsessed with the hot sight. his leaking tip is curving deliciously against your walls, leaving you a moaning mess.

“fuck. you have the prettiest ass ever.” vernon grunts as he kneads the two globes. he grips them tightly and starts to drag you back and forth on his cock until you’re screaming out his name.

you’re dripping all over his sheets, but you can’t feel embarrassed because he’s fucking you so good. no one’s ever gone as deep as him, and all you can do is moan like a pornstar. vernon doesn’t mind at all, though. in fact, he loves it.

“should’ve fucked you sooner, babe.” bestie!vernon says as he keeps slamming his cock into your tight little hole. “can’t believe i almost let him have you.”

you’re so close to cumming that you’ve completely forgotten about your date. somewhere in your hazy mind, you know you have to let him know you’re no longer coming. luckily, bestie!vernon knows you better than you do. he has your phone in his hands and is typing in your password before you can realize what he’s doing. for a fleeting second, he contemplates on sending a video showing exactly why you were going to miss the date, but the thinks better of it.

the squeal you let out when you see he’s called your date after he tosses your phone by your head is so cute and makes bestie!vernon fuck you harder. “tell him you’re not coming.”

your best friend’s voice is so dominant and rough that you gush all over his cock. he moans out your name as your cream completely coats his dick. your pussy is so sloppy that you can hear it all throughout the room, and when your would-be date picks up the phone, you wonder if he can hear it too.

“hey, i’m about to leave—”

“i can’t come.” you say, voice trembling as feel yourself on the brink of an orgasm.

“what? is everything okay?” he sounds so concerned, but all you care about is how vernon’s thick cock is splitting you open.

“y-yeah!” you cry out when bestie!vernon turns you until your laying on your side and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. “just can’t make it.”

there’s no way he doesn’t hear vernon’s moans and the wet sound of skin slapping, but you don’t care. all you want is to get filled up. so you abruptly hang up and start to meet the harsh thrusts making you see stars.

“fuck, vernon!” you toss your head back when he finds your sweet spot, abruptly cumming all over his dick. “cum inside me!”

that’s exactly what bestie!vernon does, stuffing you to the brim. he slowly fucks it back into you for a minute before collapsing next to you. he keeps his cock inside you as he pulls you against his body with a satisfied hum. you cuddle into him, sleepily telling him you want to fuck again when you wake up. he smirks when you hook a leg over his hip — a clear indication that you want him to stay inside you.

and he does. it’s what he deserves after all that he did to get to this place. bestie!vernon plans fell into place after telling you the wrong time on purpose and masturbating when he knew you were watching. the cherry on top was his performance of a lifetime; acting embarrassed when he was really turned on beyond belief. it was all worth it because now he’s the one with his cock and cum inside you.

#kumawaii.exe #vernon smut #vernon chwe smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #vernon x reader #svt x reader #vernon chwe fic #vernon chwe x reader #svt fic #seventeen fic #vernon imagine #vernon chwe imagine #svt imagine

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cvpitvno · 1 year

Note

Sucking Vernon so good that he's so close to Cumming, but pulling away just to tease him which was obviously a wrong move, and then him tying you up with his belt and teasing you all night, till you're sobbing and begging him to let you cum

Read smtg like this somewhere and can't get it outta my mind :(

vernon prided himself on his self control — he could endure teasing from his members, comments made by the public, and the annoying paparazzi who couldn’t understand personal privacy.

but when in the bedroom with you… it was hard to gouge whether or not his so called self control was still intact or not.

his hips jumped at every swirl of your tongue around his tip, a deep groan always following as your mouth sunk down around his length again — vibrations shaking him to the core and head reeling at the sound and feeling of your cock-full-mouth giggling around his cock at the way he twitched at every movement you made.

“c’mon baby, i’m so close,” vernon thrusted his hips up, chasing the hot heat that was surly building up in his abdomen. you had teased his for over an hour now, and the sound of your promise of this being the time you’ll actually let him cum rings out through his ears. vernon let out a string of moans, hips jumping again and hands finding purchase on the sides of your head, guiding your movements to be faster and deeper; your tongue stroking the veins that ran along the underside of his cock, yours hands playing with his balls, and the tightness of your throat-

gone, within a second, just like his orgasm.

just like his self control.

even through his body was slowly coming down from the feeling and that warmth in his stomach had all but disappeared, vernon moved quickly to position your frame under his own — one hand venturing to hold you jaw tightly and the other to the belt of his jeans that hung low around his thighs.

“you’re such a little liar, you promised me,” vernon couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. he was angry over being edged and denied by you, something he did to you more than he could count. “now get to do the same to you,” vernon trailed off, wrapping the delicately designed leather around your wrists, bounding them to the headboard above. “for as long as i see fit — what do you say baby, an hour? maybe two?”

you whined, body twisting under the weight of his thighs as you begged for his forgiveness.

vernon leaned down, peppering teasing kisses over your cheeks and lips. “i was gonna go easy on you — let you come after a round or two,” his lips settled on your neck. “no teasing of course, just some hard fucking,” he sighed as if he was disappointed. “now… you don’t get my cock until your crying and begging for it — orgasm denied for the up-tenth time.”

it truly was a crying shame that vernon lacked self control.

it’s 7am and i’m tired but i wanted to answer this — prob sucks but here’s your breakfast you nasties

#𖤐 — thot night.#𖤐 — svt writings.#svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #vernon smut #chwe vernon x reader #chwe vernon smut #chwe hansol x reader #chwe hansol smut #kpop smut

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drunk-on-dk · 1 year

Text

Heart Out in the City | Chwe Hansol (m)

✦pairing: stranger!vernon x fem!reader

✦genre: pwp (~half plot/half smut not sure tho), SMUT (minors dni), themes of loneliness

✦w/c: ~2.0k

✦summary: Inevitably, you aren't alone in the city when strangers come and go each day, especially when Vernon and you connect after running into each other so often at the local cafe.

NSFW warnings under the cut, minors do not read, 18+ only

✦c/w: themes of loneliness, strangers to lovers, no pronouns used but female anatomy; unprotected sex (safe sex is important, we kind of skip over that in here); cockwarming; grinding; no clear roles, but reader rides Vernon; maybe a bit of a voice kink; creampie!

✦a/n: Just a little fic/drabble i had started writing a bit ago to try and mix up my style of writing and get my brain going, not much dialogue and it isn't too long, but as always please share any feedback!! thank you for reading <3

There was something so melancholic yet hopeful about living in the city alone. Surrounded by hundreds – thousands - of people moving about their daily life, blissfully unaware of each passerby, allowing you to move freely through the city streets and leading you to friendships you may not necessarily be seeking at the time. Albeit, the hustle and bustle of the city can be quite lonely, friends come and go with different opportunities, thus in the end always leaving you to your own small studio apartment high up in the clouds.

However, there was comfort in the haziness of the city sky at night, like a fuzzy blanket that tucked you in, and the stars and moon served as a natural nightlight. You didn’t mind being lonely, not when there was a sense of safety and alikeness to it. Maybe there was something cozy about being alone, especially when you knew that there were others just like you in surrounding apartments. Occasionally, you’d watch as lights would turn off for the night in adjacent, scattered apartments, a singular window framing those who occupied them and going through an akin nighttime routine as you. Though you were alone in your apartment, you were never alone in the city.

Similarly, there was consolation in sitting near a stranger at the local cafe; though you came solo, you were still with others. As always, you’d briefly observe those around you before pulling out your laptop, the soft bob of the stranger’s head as he listened to the music blaring from his chunky headphones soothed you and helped you focus on your work.

There was a stranger with headphones that frequented the café as often as you did. Undeniably, you felt this pull to him each time he arrived at the shop. He must have felt it too, always casually sitting across from you with his americano in stow, head lulling to the beat of his music, and concentrating on whatever he was reading on his phone. You never felt the need to introduce yourself, not wanting to ruin whatever you had done that made him feel safe to coexist with you.

However, one day when you spotted his name, Vernon, written on the cardboard sleeve of his cup, you couldn’t deny the giddiness you felt bubbling up inside of you. Admittedly, he was handsome and exuded a charm that you couldn't quite place, so of course you were elated to know the most normal detail about this mystery person that you happened to see so frequently.

Every couple of days you would see him at the café, consistently sitting near one another yet never introducing yourselves. Sneakily, you’d begin to turn your cup in whatever direction he was sitting in, making sure he caught your name on your cup eventually.

“Pretty name,” he mentioned nonchalantly one day, sitting down at the table next to you and dropping his backpack in the seat adjacent to him.

It was hard to stop what felt like a wildfire blazing over your cheeks, stuttering out a “thank you” in response and attempting to hide behind your laptop. He didn’t pay it any mind, only offering a hum in response with the slightest upward turn of his lips before pulling his own laptop out.

You could feel your heart pounding, thrilled that he dared to speak to you first. You didn’t dare to waste this opportunity, choking out a stupid question to keep the conversation rolling, “what’s your name?”

A soft chuckle breezes past his lips, a smirk appearing when he points to the sleeve of his cup, “it’s Vernon, but something tells me you may have known that already.”

Admittedly, you like his banter, “touché, I’ve been caught red-handed. Otherwise, nice to officially meet you, Vernon.”

“Ditto.”

It’s a brief, simple conversation, really, but it is enough to make your heart soar for the rest of the day. Especially when Vernon leaves the café, bidding you goodbye with a bob of his head and a slight wave of his hand, pulling his headphones to the side to make sure he hears the goodbye that you blubber in response.

Days go on and you would continue to see Vernon at the same café, but now you two are a bit more friendly. Vernon would occasionally ask you questions here and there; sometimes they were simple questions just to spark conversation, or even expand to something that requires a bit more thought and effort from you. Whether that question entails if you knew what the weather was like for the evening, or if you had the time to proofread a report that he is writing for one of his university courses, claiming that you looked studious yourself when you shot him a dubious look.

The next time he sees you he buys you a coffee, which of course you adamantly deny, but he claims it’s the least he can do when you helped him get an A on his last assignment. Call it flattery, but it worked tremendously well on you, cheeks and ears flaring up like they would back in middle school.

Vernon provided you a sense of warmth in the cold, fast-paced city. He was simple, easy-going, and even-keeled. Something about seeing Vernon in this little café almost every other day was enough to keep you sane, realizing that maybe you were a bit lonelier than you had thought, but Vernon was the presence you needed. You yearned to see him, even if it meant that you two wouldn’t even talk, it was just nice to have him around. Odd how a stranger can become someone so familiar and safe, the forced proximity of the city and desire to meet people only proves that living downtown isn’t so solitary after all.

One day when the rain came bucketing down, Vernon was your savior to no surprise. Offering to walk you back to your apartment upon clear signs that the rain had no intentions of slowing down, Vernon pulled his miniature black umbrella out of the depths of his backpack. He made sure to keep you covered the entire way home, also offering you an earbud of his to listen to his playlist that he had curated for days like this.

Vernon had walked you right up to your apartment entrance, gentle fingers reaching for the earbud and brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. Whether it was intentional or not, right then and there, you knew you didn’t want to be alone anymore. At least not for tonight.

You refused to be alone, not when you could have Vernon on your couch, lights dimmed with the soft flickering from the muted TV in the background. You weren’t sure how it all happened so fast, maybe it was the desperate need to actually feel connected to someone for once, but you couldn’t deny the pull you had felt to Vernon in a short amount of time. The TV and both of your clothing were long forgotten after you found yourself speared on Vernon’s cock, relishing in how he crumbled and squirmed beneath each time you’d experimentally clench your walls around his length.

“Feel s’good, Vernon,” you let out a breathless gasp into his neck, loving the way his jaw falls slack when you run kisses from his ear all the way down to his collarbone. At this point, you’ve been sitting on Vernon for God knows how long, allowing him to fill you to the brim while you two kissed and nibbled at each other’s skin. You couldn't remember a time when you had cockwarmed for this long, but it was slowly becoming addicting. Having Vernon buried so deep inside of you had you dizzy with each pulse of his cock.

“Please,” his voice comes out strangled, hands and fingernails digging into the skin on your hips as he tries to coax you to move. You can feel the grumble of his chest when he lets out a groan after a cautious rock of your hips, grinding your clit against his pelvic bone and pulling a sigh from you as well. “Please keep moving, Y/N.”

Honestly, you were on a bit of a power trip having him under you like this. It was mesmerizing how his features would twist in pleasure at each slow rock and circle of your hips, your walls only clenching him tighter making his head fall back in bliss and sending shivers down your spine as his hands thoroughly explore every inch of your body.

Vernon lacked all self-restraint at this point, pussy-drunk and hungry for a taste of you. He pulls himself together to finally crash his lips against yours, teeth nipping desperately at your lips even though you immediately grant him access. Shockingly, you feel his hips buck up into yours, pulling a loud gasp from you when the tip of his head hits the spongey spot inside of you, reigniting the fiery burn of pleasure in your core.

The feeling of Vernon grinding his hips up into yours has you gripping his shoulders for support, fingers nails digging into his delicate skin and likely leaving evidence of you. You’re a moaning mess, head falling into his neck as he continues to bury his cock even deeper inside of you, feeling so incredibly full and connected to him.

“Ride me,” Vernon moves your hair out of the way to whisper into your ear. His voice is so incredibly raspy and sexy, you wish he would just keep repeating himself at this point.

“God,” you moan out, lifting up ever so slightly only to drop down to fill yourself to the brim with him again. “When you sound like that, I don’t think I could stop myself.”

He sounds even better than you would have ever imagined, hoarse grunts escaping him with each fall of your hips as you begin to ride him, bouncing up and down on his cock with fervent desire.

Vernon’s hands are everywhere, running down your back until he’s squeezing your ass, guiding you to grind into him and take him deeper. Your sounds are harmonic at this point, his groans and your whines melding together as you both lead each other closer to that feeling of euphoria. You cry out even louder when Vernon pulls one of your nipples into his mouth; the feeling is so warm and shocking when you’re already overwhelmed by having him all over and in you.

Fucked out beyond belief as you ride his cock, you feel your legs begin to quiver with each bounce, the coil inside of you becoming unbearably hot and ready to snap as your arousal builds.

Vernon must be able to tell, “don’t you dare stop, ride me until you cum all over my cock,” his voice is still so rough and quiet, only egging you on. You’re nodding desperately, becoming messier with each circle and drop of your hips.

Your legs go numb when Vernon’s thumb begins to circle your clit, the pleasure overbearing the burn you feel in your thighs as he pulls an orgasm from you. The two of you are even louder now, his moans only making your orgasm even more intense while your walls continue to spasm around him. Vernon is keening into you, working you through your entire high, and making sure to memorize the loud, wonton cries that escape you from above him.

Unable to hold his own release back any longer, Vernon fills you with his seed after one last, rough thrust from him. You can feel his white, hot cum fill you when you clench around him especially tight, his hands pulling you down against him even closer as he loses himself to your body.

You both stay like this for a while, enjoying the sentiment of being intertwined and connected so deeply. Vernon only pulls his softened length out after you both begin to doze to sleep, gently helping clean you up and rejoining where you lay on the couch.

It’s impractical, really, to have both of you laid on your couch together, but neither of you desires the space.

Maybe you were both what each other needed at the time, filling the void that the city left on everyone, and yearning to feel true human connection rather than settling for the false sense of company. It was an inevitable bond that only those who put their heart out could feel.

Even if you were unsure of how long this feeling may last, it was worth putting your heart out in the city, especially when someone like Vernon came into your life.

#svthub #vernon smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #vernon chwe smut #chwe vernon smut #hansol smut

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teasteeper · 29 days

Text

fanboy (c.hs)

pairing: vernon x f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni

warnings: alcohol, pinv, oral (f + m receiving), dry humping, riding, drunk sex, “daddy”, situationship/fwb, fuckgirl!r, whipped!vern

words: 2.2k

vernon’s never felt this way about a girl. he doesn’t outright admit it or carry it around like a badge, but he knows he’s cool, lips turning up in a lopsided smile and looking down as his previous hookups gush to him telling him so. it’s not like he’s fucking fans, but once a girl spends a night with him.. she’s a fan.

vernon prides himself on not letting it get to his head. that doesn’t mean it’s easy though, having pretty girls drunkenly babble to him as he fucks them into his mattress, their slurred, high pitched praises going straight to his cock. and at the end of the day he’s a man. do you expect him to feel nothing when a wide eyed nearly-drooling girl throws herself at him..?

it was nice while it lasted, knowing he could probably have any girl he wanted, thanks to his pretty brown eyes and shy smile, his tall sleeper build and calm, deep voice. not that he wanted any of them.. not for keeps, anyway. it all ended, or started, with you. the roles reversed, him stunned by how cool you were, and you smiling and nodding along politely, like you were humouring a babbling toddler telling you about their favourite toy - like he was your biggest fan.

weeks into your situationship he still doesn’t know how he got so lucky, skin itchy with anticipation for the next time he can be with you. it makes perfect sense and simultaneously no sense at all. it’s perfect but not enough. not nearly enough.

his cock fits in you so perfect, your cunt gripping him like you never want to let go, your slick gushing down his length and making a mess between your bodies, drenching his thighs and bedsheets like you’re claiming your spot there. you don’t ramble like the other girls, but you look at him like you love him, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed pink and lips swollen from his heated kisses. it’s the best and worst drug he’s taken, sweat beading on his forehead, chest heaving with heavy breaths and biceps shaking as he holds his body over yours. and he’s the one rambling to you, roles always reversed. everything he’s ever known turned on it’s head, everything he’s ever done before you totally lost on him, unimportant.

he doesn’t recognize his own voice, barely able to get the broken, breathy words out.

“fuck, m’sorry. it’s too fucking good. fuck- you just take it”

“want you so bad, baby. i swear it’s you. swear you’re so fucking perfect f’me”

“look at me. yeah, just like that. fuck- you’re pretty. prettiest girl in the world”

it’s safe to say you’ve ruined him for anyone else. it’s painfully obviously after he closes his apartment door after you walk out, splashing cold water on his face and sighing as he lays back on his messy sheets. you always leave too soon, or maybe the problem is that you leave at all. he watches you pick your clothes up off the floor, stepping into your panties before pulling your sweater over your head. he stays on the bed, pulling his sweats over his hips as he thinks of the first time you hooked up, when he tried to help you into your clothes afterwards.

“i can do it,” you had laughed, a breathy, awkward sort of scoff, “thanks”

from then on he just watched, eyes trained on the dimples at the bottom of your spine before your clothes covered them from his sight. that first night he had you on your knees, face buried into his pillow as he filled your cunt. he had held your hips, the pads of his thumbs pressed into the dimples on your back as he pulled you back and forth on his cock. he had stared at them, slack jawed as you moaned out. he pressed his lips to both of them, trailing kisses down your back before lapping at your sticky slick with his eager tongue. and once you redressed they were gone, as if off limits - an intimate detail of your body he was never supposed to know of.

“fuck” he sighs to himself, running a hand down his face before pushing his damp hair off his forehead, tangling his slender fingers in the dark strands. his body is content, cock fully drained and soft in his sweats, heart slowing to a healthy pace. but his mind stays running, always searching for that missing part of the equation.

vernon knows you sleep with other people, both of you making it clear at the very beginning that you both weren’t looking for a relationship. but he can’t get his friends’ voices out of his head, telling him he’ll find the right person when he least expects it. but could you really be the right person? a girl so painfully out of his league? a girl who has him feeling like nothing but a lucky fanboy?

⊹

there’s nothing better than this, vernon fumbling with his keys before pushing the right one into the lock, lacing his fingers with yours with a lopsided smirk and pulling you to stumble into his apartment towards the living room. he hates the club, but getting a text from you inviting him out is something he’d never ignore, pulling on jeans and a black hoodie before he practically ran out the door, one hand busy booking an uber to your location. it’s all worth it when you push him to sit back on his couch, giggling as you clumsily straddle his lap and collapse against his chest. his laugh is caught in his throat when you crash your lips to his, the taste of alcohol on both your lips in your heated exchange of needy, drunken kisses.

you break the kiss all too soon, pulling back to trail your eyes over his face, his cheeks flushed pink and lids half closed, lips still puckered as he waits for you to keep kissing him. “you’re so cute, nonnie” you smile, grabbing his jaw between your fingers. he nearly groans out at your praise, his heart swelling in these rare moments when you’re all over him.

it’s like you just remembered you’re straddling him, looking down at your thighs spread over his hips, your mini skirt riding up your thighs so your pink cotton panties are on display, positioned perfectly over the fly of his jeans. your drunken giggles die in your throat, pushing your hips up to drag your clothed cunt over the denim and letting out a sigh as you feel the stiff shape of his cock against you.

“tell me, baby” vernon’s already slack jawed, big hands cupping your hips as you start to grind against him, “tell me what you want”

“off” you whine, pushing your hands under his hoodie before he grabs the collar, pulling it off and throwing it aside, his hair falling into his eyes. you trail your eyes down his chest, pale skin stretched over his toned abdomen. you take your bottom lip between your teeth, playing with the button of his jeans between your fingers.

“what’s wrong, baby?”

“can i leave marks?”

“fuck” he chokes out, your lips already attached to his neck, “please, baby. v’always wanted you to”

he steadies his trembling hands by pressing his fingers into your hips, pushing your shirt up your waist as you run your tongue up the side of his neck, nipping at the skin before suctioning your lips around it. the alcohol and the pressure on his neck and your vanilla perfume makes him dizzy, his eyes fluttering closed and a drawn out sigh passing through his lips. his cock throbs in his pants, feeling close without even being in you.

vernon brings his hands between your bodies to fumble at his zipper, making you whine as he pushes you away from his neck, “sorry, m’sorry, baby. need you to sit on my cock, okay?”

his fingers tremble as he hooks two into your panties and tugs them to the side, his other hand pulling his stiff cock from his briefs and lining the tip up to your slick hole. you’re so eager, dropping your hips to take the head inside, both of you moaning out before he takes his hand off his cock so you can take him fully.

“shit” vernon groans, back slumped against the couch, hooded eyes trained on your chest as he pulls your shirt over your head, throwing it aside to lay on top of his discarded hoodie. he has no time to think or even buck his hips up, gaze unfocused as your tits bounce in his face, eagerly bouncing on his cock with your nails pressed into the muscle of his shoulders.

he’s too drunk and fucked to fully realize how perfect this is. if he was sober he’s sure it would break his brain, how eagerly you’re riding his cock, desperately moaning into his mouth as you crash your lips to his like you need him in order to breathe. he can’t think of how if you were sober you wouldn’t be fucking him so greedily, wouldn’t be so close to tears and saying such sweet things between each heated kiss like you are now.

“feels so good, daddy. need you- always need you”

“y’so good to me. wanna be good f’you. wanna be yours”

his heart swells at your slurred words, pulling back and breaking the kiss to cup your face in his hands, dark eyes scanning your expression. he wipes the mascara-stained tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb, tucking your mussed hair behind your ear.

he’s still cupping your cheeks when you reach your high, his jaw tense as your walls suffocate his cock. when your mouth drops into an o he pushes his thumb past your lips, watching you suck around the digit as you come down.

“i got you, baby. that’s my pretty girl.. that’s it. so pretty when you cum f’me”

the alcohol’s worn off, at least for vernon, guiding you off his cock and picking your spent body up with ease. his heart swells when your arms wrap around his neck, burying your face into his neck as he brings you to his bedroom. you let him lay you on his bed, let him pull your skirt down your legs before folding it carefully and setting it on top of his dresser, leaving you in your cotton panties. he turns to the washroom for a cloth to clean you up, but your voice interrupts him.

“you didn’t finish”

he turns back to you and gives you that shy smile, the greater half of him relieved to see you haven’t stood up to put your skirt back on. “it’s okay”

but your eyes are wide and expectant, sitting up in his bed and patting the empty space beside you. so he lays down beside you, silently watching you crawl over his hips, helping you push his jeans and briefs down his hips. he’s still so hard, the head of his cock flushed red and sticky with precum. he sighs softly when you lean down to lap at the sticky fluid, using his hands to pull your hair back into a makeshift ponytail.

if he wasn’t already sober, he is now, hyper aware of the warm wetness of your mouth as you sink down his length. you must be sober too, he thinks, your desperation from earlier turned to softness, quietly humming around his cock as you cup his balls, your other hand resting on his bare thigh. even your mouth is a perfect fit, his tip nudging the back of your throat when your lips touch the base.

“won’t last” he gasps, his high approaching impossibly fast.

he fully expects you to sit back and replace your mouth with your fist, stroking him until he cums on his stomach. so when your head keeps bobbing up and down, your tongue dragging up and down the underside of his shaft, his eyes widen, heart rate picking up as he starts to let go. “baby, baby, baby, oh- oh my fucking god”

he’s stunned, abs tense and chest heaving with shaky breaths as you swallow everything, licking him clean with slow, lazy swipes of your tongue up his cock.

this entire night must be a dream, vernon thinks, holding your body against him as you lay your head on his chest. he feels like an idiot, turning his head to check the digital clock on his nightstand every thirty seconds, but it’s been 12, 25, 50 minutes and you’re still here, letting him hold you. he hasn’t said a word, afraid that if he does you’ll suddenly become aware of the situation, that you’ll remember you don’t do this.

and he doesn’t sleep, even after hours of silence, after your breaths have slowed and your eyes have fluttered shut, because he’s wanted this since he met you, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world. even when you’re fast asleep, cheek squished against his chest and soft breaths ghosting over his skin, you’ve never been more his than right now, and more than ever, he’s your biggest fan.

#good night🫡#vernon #vernon chwe #chwe hansol #seventeen #svt #vernon smut #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon drabbles #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen drabbles #svt drabbles #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen hard hours #svt hard thoughts #svt hard hours #mine

486 notes · View notes

eoieopda · 8 months

Text

tidal.

but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.”

pairing: vernon x afab!reader type: one-shot (fluff n’ smut) au: est. relationship wc: 4.8k rating: 18+ a/n: i didn’t plan this whatsoever, but i felt so weirdly compelled to write it that i avoided eye-contact with all of my wips, and now… here we are, lol. cw: pov switch, reader is afab + on their period, gender identity + pronouns aren’t designated, blood mention (obvi), unprotected p in v penetration (ill-advised!!), wee bit of dry-humping (ig?), a lil massage, pet names (baby, sweetheart), self-indulgent ref to a favorite docu of mine, and lastly — vernon (yes, this is a warning 🧍🏻) 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

Vernon isn’t blind.

He can see you out of the corner of his eye, laying flat on your back, several unexplained centimeters away from his side. With the duvet clenched in your fists, you stare intently up at the ceiling, like you’re waiting for it to move — or trying to move it yourself, telekinetically. You keep your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, as if you expect it to make a run for it.

So, yes, Vernon can see you.

He just can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.

For a few minutes, he attempts to pay attention to the documentary lighting up the screen on the wall ahead. You were the one that picked it — some wild tale about mother-daughter recluses in New York — and he finds it hard to give a shit about it without your usual commentary. Your hot takes are his favorite part of any movie night, after all.

He’ll be the first to admit that he’s never been good at keeping his eyes off you. Try as he might, he can’t glue his gaze to the television; each glance in your direction sticks longer than the one before it, testing the waters. Minutes slip away just like this until he completely caves, turns his head fully, and stares at you outright.

You still don’t seem to notice.

His brow scrunches up as he watches you, caught in the middle between concerned, confused, and amused by how absolutely ridiculous you look right now. When he speaks, he tries to sound stern, like he isn’t fighting the urge to laugh.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” is all he gets in response.

You don’t even look his way. If anything, you tense harder now that his attention is on you.

None of it makes sense. Not the weird gap you’ve left between your body and his, your total refusal to look him in the eye, or the fact that there wasn’t an argument to precipitate any of this distance. It’s a symptom with no apparent cause, and it’s totally baffling. Brain-breaking, even.

Frowning, Vernon scoots himself across the bed to get closer to you.

You don’t reciprocate.

He tugs gently at the hem of your sweatshirt in a silent plea for your attention and receives radio silence in response; unless he counts the way you swallow thickly.

Which, for the record, he does not.

This close, Vernon can feel the anxious energy pulsing out of your tensed-up body in waves, so he leans away and props himself up on his elbow. Desperate to know what broke you and how to fix it, he mutters, “What is happening right now?”

Ope.

It comes out harsher than it was supposed to, reading more like annoyance than worry, so he immediately clears his throat. Gently and with a brush of his knuckles against your hip bone, he tries again: “Are you okay? Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

A fly on the wall might get the wrong impression and think he stroked you with a live wire instead.

“Oh, my god. No!” You sputter with a jolt, shifting gears quickly from vaguely on-edge to horrified. You shake your head so frantically that Vernon fears you’ll detach it. “No, you haven’t done anything. I’m fine, I just —”

He interjects with a laugh, “— I don’t necessarily believe that —”

Visibly cringing with every muscle in your body, you cover your face with your hands. Not long after you take a deep breath does a meek voice slip out through your fingers, sounding beyond embarrassed.

“I’m so incomprehensibly horny right now that I can’t even look at you.”

For a second, it’s dead silent because he can’t quite process how much of a weirdo you are, or how completely and hopelessly enamored he is with you. But then the dam breaks. His laugh comes out so forcefully that you pull your hands away from your face, eyes wide.

“Is that so?” He smirks, nodding his head towards the television. “Grey Gardens really gets your motor running, huh?”

Absolutely aghast, you swat at his bicep. Then, you sling your arm over your eyes and groan, “I got my period. It has turned me into a sex-crazed monster, I fear.”

Vernon nods in understanding, even though you can’t see it, and hums, “Ahh.”

And he leaves it at that, only because you seem to have more that you want to say. Something you want to ask, maybe, or a reason you may want to give for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity. He’s down, he thinks without hesitation, so long as you are.

But you don’t say anything.

Maybe you aren’t actually down after all, and that’s why you won’t look at him. Shit, are you embarrassed? Should I say something? Silence falls overtop like a weighted blanket, smothering the two idiots who can’t tell whose turn it is to talk.

Do you or do you not want this right now?

You mumble something that he can’t catch, so he nudges your side gently with his knuckles to encourage you. Just as nervous, you repeat yourself without looking at him, “Period sex is supposed to help with cramps, I think.”

He thinks he’s read the exact same article you have. More than that, he wishes you’d look over at him and see for yourself how completely unbothered he is by this concept.

“If you think about it, it’s kind of like a natural lubricant,” you add in a voice that’s even smaller than before.

Your shyness really might kill him, so he reaches over to grab your hand and gently pull your arm away from your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since you laid down — since you put your self-imposed no-contact order in place — and he feels his stupid heart swell.

For what it’s worth, he feels his dick twitch, too.

You open your mouth to speak again, likely to continue your unnecessary campaigning; Vernon is having none of it. He tugs your wrist just enough to tilt you inward, then he kisses you hard enough to shut you up. A tiny whimper slips out of your lips when he pulls away, and it almost makes him regret his decision to do so.

But Vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “I don’t need a sales pitch. You will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, like this is somehow news to you. It shouldn’t be. He’s told you a thousand times in as many different ways how thoroughly crazy you drive him just by existing so closely to him, but maybe you didn’t take him seriously then.

To emphasize his point, he slips his hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and finds your bare waist with the pad of his thumb. It spirals slowly against your warm skin, making both of you dizzy. Then, sick of the distance, Vernon dips his head down to press a kiss to your temple.

“Like, ever,” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your jaw.

Soft, slow kisses trail behind him as he travels down to your lips. Your head tilts further backwards with every single one, providing him with more and more access.

He states it matter-of-factly because, to him, it is. “I’m down so bad for you that it might be terminal.”

“Oh?”

You try to laugh but turn to putty when his palm rests fully on the curve of your waist and pulls you flush against him. The surprised gasp you let loose confirms his suspicion: You can feel how serious he is, affirmation throbbing against your abdomen in time with his heartbeat.

Vernon smirks to himself, relishing your reaction, and bypasses your mouth entirely. A moan escapes from you, soft like an exhale, as his lips move slowly down the length of your neck. Every so often — just to feel you shiver — he flicks the tip of his tongue along the delicate skin he finds there.

“It might be messy…”

The rest of your needless warning gets lost in a dreamy sigh as he suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Shifting even closer, your desperate fingers reach out and cling to his t-shirt.

Vernon licks a stripe over the galaxy blooming on your skin. He hums, hand traveling upwards from your waist, “Don’t care about a mess.”

And he means it.

Mindful of any soreness, he smooths his hand over your left breast and massages it tenderly, swearing to himself that he’ll throw the whole fucking mattress out if that’s what it comes down to. For you, he’ll race across town on foot to buy another one, and — fuck it — if the store is closed, he might just break in.

You’re growing impatient; your fingers let go of his shirt and tangle themselves in his hair.

“So needy,” he chuckles low in his chest, teasing. “You know, I think you’re lying. I think it is this bat-shit insane documentary that’s driving you wild, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Stop,” you whine, dragging out the vowel sound.

You don’t, though; you throw your left leg over his right thigh and shimmy forward until your cunt grazes his dick. Involuntarily, he groans at the warmth radiating off your core. Every part of you drives him just the slightest bit insane. You seem to know it, he thinks as he watches your pupils dilate in real time.

But he can play games, too, so he rolls his hips forward and grinds against you. He pushes you further, “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I’m not kink-shaming you —”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe!”

Oh, shit. Government name?

“— I’m just a little surprised, I guess.” He sighs with a shrug. “Think you know somebody…”

Your impatience is scribbled all across your scrunched up face. It seeps into your voice when you crash back against the pillows and huff, “Can you please stop fucking with me and start fucking me?”

“Sex-crazed monster, huh?” Leaning over, Vernon punctuates his question with a quick press of his lips to yours.

You whimper, “I’m so serious. I might explode.”

“Then go take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He kisses you again, smiling so fondly that his eyes may even be twinkling. “And I’ll go get a towel.”

You wait until Vernon clears the threshold before launching yourself out of bed at breakneck speed. Stumbling all the while, you race off to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind you. When it clatters against the frame, you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit eager.

Maybe.

Opting to keep your baggy, bleach-stained sweatshirt on, you wiggle out of your shorts and — what he refers to as — your crisis diaper. The high-waisted, frumpy, beige panties are utilized exclusively during your period, and to your surprise, they’ve remained spotless. It’s only ever the pretty and expensive pairs that wind up as collateral damage, isn’t it?

As they pool around your ankles, you can’t help but think that Vernon’s nickname for them is pretty spot on. That’s partly why you figured he might need to be talked into this. Unsated arousal aside, you feel as far from sexy as you can possibly get.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, kick what you’ve discarded into a pile near the hamper, and let your sweatshirt shift down to cover as much of your ass as it’s capable of managing. You grab a square of toilet paper; then, you go to work excavating the wad of cotton that separates you from everything you want in this life.

It is within the realm of possibility that you’re a little bit eager and a little bit dramatic.

Perhaps.

After discarding the evidence in the small trash can under the sink, you wash your hands as if you’re about to step into an operating theater and not the bedroom you spend half your life in. When you finally feel sterile, you lift your head and catch your reflection in the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with the painful, hormonal pimple on your chin — the one you’ve been waging a retinoid war against for days.

“Bitch,” you mutter, like calling it names will be the one thing that finally gets it to shrink. Of course, your plan doesn’t work, but you feel a little less powerless. That’s good enough, you think. At least, as good as it’s going to get.

Now half-naked and certifiably unobstructed, you tiptoe back to your bedroom much more carefully than you left it. Vernon enters from the opposite doorway at the same time, jumping slightly the second he notices you. You ignore his frightened eyes and glance down at the crisp, white towel he’s clutching.

You open your mouth to suggest anything otherwise, but he beats you to it. His eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his mouth widens outwards, a self-aware rectangle. Otherwise expressionless, he lets go of an atonal, “Aaaaaaah”, that tells you he’s caught on.

He says nothing else before turning around and walking back the way he came. You have to bite down on your lips to keep from cackling.

That one’s mine, you think, still as infatuated as you were at the start. I chose that one.

While he’s gone, you try not to move, not to breathe too heavily. Vernon said he didn’t care about a mess, but when he said it, he was speaking theoretically with his hand on your tit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken recklessly with your body melting under his touch.

As far as you know, he hasn’t had any experience with this mess in practice. He could wind up finding you about as sexy as you currently feel — to wit: not at all. So, erring on the side of caution, you turn yourself into a statue and wait for the boy and his towel to find you again.

When he comes back, he plants a drive-by kiss on your unsuspecting mouth before skirting right around you. With shocking finesse, he grabs the corners of the — thankfully — black towel, which unfurls in the seconds before he flicks it upwards. It lands perfectly in the center of the bed, flat without needing to be fussed with.

“Wow,” he mutters to himself, taking in his clean work with raised eyebrows.

The impressed look is still on his face when he turns around, but you don’t have time to comment on his feat because he laughs as soon as he sees you.

“Kinda look like Donald Duck with the whole top-on, bottom-off situation.”

I chose this one?

You pout with an indignant gasp, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not wearing a sailor hat, so…. bad analogy. Rude, even.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You stumble a little on your way into him; the jury’s still out about whether it’s his hushed tone or the sudden movement that trips you up.

Between his thumb and index finger, he gently captures your chin. You follow along with his unspoken direction, tilt your face up to meet his. This close, you can see your own reflection in his pupils, black dilating against the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

Vernon takes a moment of silence as he takes in your features, and he studies them so intently that his eyebrows crinkle on their own. He sighs, sounding so completely serious. “You might get prettier every time I look at you.”

It’s unclear if you’re melting, or gushing; and if it’s the latter, you can’t say which biological process is at fault. Thankfully, the hand at the small of your back keeps your weak knees from buckling when his lips brush over yours.

“Even if you’re dressed like Winnie the Pooh.”

You feel him smirk even before you hear him laugh at his own joke. Then, you feel his hand slide down to cup your bare cheek, squeezing affectionately. You want to tell him that this analogy is still inaccurate because you’re not wearing a crop-top; but he gently instructs you to ditch the sweatshirt and get on the bed, and your body moves automatically. No questions asked.

Carefully, you crawl up onto the mattress, then you center yourself on the towel. Still on your knees, you tilt your head curiously and ask, “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere,” he breezes, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the dresser nearby. He amends, “Everywhere. All the time, and then some.”

“Better be careful,” you tease. “Talking like that might have consequences. You may never be able to get rid of me.”

His joggers are the next to go. Your sanity follows shortly thereafter, hungry eyes lingering on the imprint of his cock underneath his boxer briefs. You have to clamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.

Brown eyes sparkling, he steps closer to you, kicking his pants aside as he goes. “Be careful,” he echoes, not a hint of cockiness to be found — just softness. “Saying it like a threat doesn’t make me wish it’s not a promise.”

I choose this one.

Crossing all the way to you, Vernon reaches the bed and climbs up with significantly more grace than you did. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels right in front of you, mirroring your posture and causing your stomach to flip with anticipation.

You can’t help yourself; you lick your lips and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Naked, please. Like, right now.”

“Damn, I gotta do this myself?” Incredulous, he holds his hands up while glancing pointedly down at his underwear, then back at you.

You arch an eyebrow, unfazed.

“Depends.” You shrug. “Do you want to keep them? Because I really will rip them off of you.”

He concedes quickly; he always does. Sighing, he shakes his head and tuts, “Sex-crazed monster,” before pushing his briefs down his thighs. His length hangs heavy between you, but you swear you can feel its perfect ache inside you already.

You have a one-track mind, so you don’t hesitate to reach out and wrap your hand around him. A groan crawls up from the bottom of your chest when you feel the weighted warmth of his cock in your palm. You don’t hold that back, either.

“Fuck,” he sighs, head tilting as far backwards as it’ll go. Unexpectedly, he laughs. He doesn’t catch the quizzical look you shoot him, though he explains himself anyway, “Your hands are so fucking cold, but it feels so good.”

Swiping your thumb over his tip, you spread the pre-cum you find there down his shaft and stroke him slowly. He grows harder with every gentle squeeze, every pass of your fist.

“We’re learning a lot of new shit about each other today.” You lean forward to pepper kisses across his collarbones. The hum of your mouth against his skin when you talk makes his cock twitch in your hand. “You might have a temperature kink and a thing for Winnie the Pooh.”

He snorts, nowhere near serious, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me,” you counter smugly, and you do mean it.

Vernon tilts his head forward to stare back at you. You’re already turning into a puddle, but if the look he gives you says anything, it’s that your melting isn’t enough for him. His voice is low and velvet-lined when he responds, “How about I just make you cum instead?”

“That could work, yeah.” You shrug.

He runs the pads of his fingers down each side of your waist to your hips, then back again; and each time he does it, you shiver. Reflexively, your back arches, chest pressing against his.

At this, he smirks, “It could? Maybe?”

“We can workshop it.”

“Or,” Vernon so generously offers, “You can turn around and lay down on your stomach. You know, if that’s sufficient.”

It’s not until you whip around and flop down onto the towel that you realize you never responded with words. Oh well. You figure he gets the point, judging by the quiet laughter you hear as he settles with his knees on either side of your upper thighs.

You don’t know what his next move will be — you don’t care, either, as long as he moves in your direction — so you don’t anticipate his palms flattening against your bare back, applying perfect pressure with his thumbs while he rubs away the soreness at the very base of your torso.

“Oh, shit,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the heels of his hands work out the tension in your muscles. “Have you always been good at this?”

You feel his chest brush against your shoulder blades when he hovers over you. Against the nape of your neck, he murmurs, “Nope.”

He kisses down your spine, mouth trailing after his hands as they work their way back down your body.

“Lemme guess — you read an article? Studied up?”

You get a snicker, then an affirmative hum, then another kiss. This time, it’s at the curve of your spine, just above your ass. Seconds later, he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your cheeks until your whole fucking body tingles.

That’s when it hits you:

Under normal circumstances, Vernon would be face-first in your pussy by now. Devouring you in earnest, like he’s starving. He can’t do that now — and you don’t blame him — so he’s making up for what you both view as a loss.

God, you want him.

One hand disappears from you, but you don’t have to guess where it went. You can hear the barely-there hiss of breath through his teeth when he takes his cock in that hand; as well as the very faint shift of his palm while he pumps himself.

“You’re gonna have to navigate, baby. I dunno how sensitive you are like this, what’s too much — any of that, so you need to tell me how you want me to move.”

Suddenly dizzy over how badly you need him, all you can muster is a nod. Vernon must want a verbal acknowledgment, though, because he leans back over you with one hand bearing his weight beside your head.

He kisses your shoulder and urges you, “Please say so if you need to stop or switch it up. Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“I will,” you breathe. “But I can’t even articulate how much I need you inside of me right now, so please — pretty please — fuck me.”

The tip of his nose bumps your temple affectionately. Right beside your ear, he teases, “With a cherry on top?” And it vibrates down your whole goddamn spine.

“Vernon!” You whine, burying your face in the comforter. It’s muffled, but you warn him nonetheless, “Don’t make me come back there.”

“Aish. Calm down, sex monster.”

The instinct to twist around and glare at him over your shoulder is strong, but every feral urge you feel is stronger. So, when he tells you to spread yourself open for him and tilt your hips back, you do so without even a hint of complaining.

With the crown of his cock slipping through your folds, inching towards your entrance, you hear him curse under his breath. Suddenly self-conscious, you finally crane your neck to the side and glance back at him.

“We don’t have to,” you whisper. “If it’s gross and you don’t want to anymore, I get it —”

He balks at your suggestion without letting so much as a beat pass. “None of that, sweetheart; no spiraling. I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of, like… how to survive how good this already feels.”

Struck dumb, all you can muster is a peep, “Oh?”

“Shit, yeah.” His response comes in a low groan. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

It’s a good call on his part, a suggestion you’re glad to have taken, because the pressure of him entering you is intense enough to knock the wind out of you. Empty lungs likely would’ve led to your untimely demise.

You whimper, already overwhelmed with the combination of pain and pleasure; the best kind of ache. The little, breathy moans must freak him out, however, because his fingertips caress your waist as he checks in: “This okay?”

Your limp arm lifts off the mattress, which you’ve melted fully into, and you form a circle with your index finger and thumb to indicate that you’re okay. The light is bright fucking green; you’ve just maxed out your capacity for speech.

Vernon continues his slow thrust forward, giving you ample time to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god,” he grunts, “This is — shit, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. If I knew how good you’d feel like this, I wouldn’t have waited around for you to ask me.”

That hits like a truck.

He was waiting on you.

You spent months convincing yourself that he’d need to be convinced, and chickening out before you could raise the idea. Months, and months, and months, of craving him during your werewolf transformation; wasting away over a shitty assumption that Vernon is anything like the people you’ve been with before.

Christ.

His credit for putting up with you is long overdue.

Too tongue-tied to speak any of that out loud, you settle for a summary that you hope conveys the message: “I love you so fucking much.”

Mindful of how deep it will push him into your cunt, he leans down over you carefully. Weight balanced on his knees and forearms, he envelopes you in his body heat, trails kisses across your shoulder, and echoes your words back at you between each one.

“Is this too much?” He whispers, rolling his hips slowly.

You feel him everywhere, with every drag of his cock along your walls; and you can’t tell where that throbbing sensation is coming from, him or you.

You shake your head and sigh, “‘s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Like he knows it’ll unravel you, his large hand comes to rest over the back of yours. His fingers slip through the spaces between and squeeze you much more gently than the vice grip you hold on the bedding below you. He keeps holding you — just like this — through every movement.

The sensation of being this surrounded, this loved, this whole crashes over you like a wave and knocks you off balance.

“I’m so close,” you pant, voice as ragged as your breathing. There’s nothing that he isn’t already giving you with every deep, deliberate thrust into your heat; but you beg nonetheless, “Please, please, please —”

His speed doesn’t increase, but the intensity does. The smack of his hips colliding with your ass does, too, and you feel it reverberating in your bones. Buried as far inside of you as he can be, cock tip kissing your cervix with every high tide, length rolling across your g-spot with every low.

You cum so hard — so completely, invoking every single muscle you have — that you forget how to breathe. With a choked-out gasp, you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm devastate you.

“Fuck!”

Vernon gets caught up in the current, too, grinding desperately against you until he’s swept up in your wake. You feel him twitch inside you as his release floods, leaving you so lost in his warmth that you feel boneless underneath him.

His face winds up hidden in the crook of your neck, somewhere amidst the baby hairs that cling to the sheen of your sweat. You feel his lips fluttering against your skin when he laughs, “Oh…my god.”

“Mmphf.” You nod weakly in agreement. Beyond blissed, your body still tingles too much to move.

Slurring, you add, “‘s good. ‘s really…”

The rest of that thought dissolves into something between a moan and a yawn.

Just as tired, Vernon pats your ass cheek affectionately and mumbles, “Well said. No notes.”

You tilt your head far enough to free your face from the sheets. When you do, you find your boyfriend fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. In the rare seconds he can, he looks back at you in a daze that seems even more adoring than it does fuck-drunk.

“I think I need to hibernate now,” you announce. “Think you just fucked me so well that I need to take a sabbatical.”

He counter-offers, “Shower first, then sabbatical?”

You wiggle so that you can pull your joint hands to your mouth. You can’t kiss him properly while he’s laid out on top of you, but you can press your lips to the back of his hand and hope he feels how much of you that you pour into it.

“Okay, but, like…. who’s carrying who?”

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