Hansol Smut - Tumblr Posts

𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓!

- How svt hip hop unit would react to you using your safeword

- cw: fluff, established relationships, humor, slight angst, quickies, rough sex, smut, breeding, degradation, safewords, +18, mdni, mingyu as his own warning

Always be safe, xo

⤑ Seungcheol

"This is good right? You're good?" Over and over again, Seungcheol had peppered you with reassurances. They bounced off the bases of his soft, pillowy lips with the same convictions as the wet kisses he was leaving on the side of your face.

You could feel how rough he was beginning to get.

"You like this, don't you?" You were swimming deep in subspace, a land of pink pillowy nothingness where your brain essentially became a tabularasa. A blank fucking slate.

Like a fucking concrete monolith was stationed between your thighs, rutting against you harder and harder the more time that seems to ebb between you.

"F-Fuck, baby you're so tight, huh? Such a tight little princess for me?" He was completely and utterly delirious. You can't crane your hand to look at him no matter how badly you wish to. Your back flat against the polished wood of his desk, and his hand around your throat keeps you there as Seuncheol traps you underneath him. He fucking loved being framed by your soft, pillowy thighs. They got tighter and weaker intermittently around him, all while he whispered the most vile words into your ear.

"Y-Yeah- Cheol- fuck-" Seungcheol watches in pained ecstacy at your blissed out state, completely catching him in the height of his own Dom space. With your tongue lolling out, Seungcheol dips down to whisper straight into your open mouth, "You're such a pretty little slut you know that-"

He was squeezing the base of your throat as he rutted into you. More and more you began to wonder if you were even a person anymore.

"Just a pretty fucking slut for me to use-"

You felt like an object.

A toy.

And despite your walls clenching around his cock your hand flew to his wrist. "Ch-Cheol-"

"You're gonna make me cum, you stupid fucking bitch-"

"Cheol-"

"F-Fuck you're such a dumb little girl-"

"CHEOL- Ohmygod-PEACH-" as if released by some evil spell, Seungcheol immediately uncuffs his iron grip from the base of your throat. He is off of yoy in five seconds, creating as much distance possible while his chest rises and falls and rises and falls. You turn slightly, eyes wide and brimming with... something. It wasn't fear, Seungcheol would hate himself if it was that.

"Baby- I-"

"Could we maybe like, ease up on the name calling. J-Just a little."

He looks fucking devastated "Fuck, I'm- genuinely so-"

"I know. Babe, it's not your fault."

"When you said Degradation I just-" he shakes his head. He wasn't about to blame you. Anything but that. "Fuck I'm sorry-"

"Hey, you're so good. So good. I'm just not into it as much as I thought I was and that was an error on my part."

"Don't fucking apologize. Thank you for telling me."

"Thank you for being a safe enough place to tell." You shrug.

Seungcheol looks around the messy room with deflated shoulders.

"Are we.. do you- I mean I could run you a bath-"

"Get inside me, I was still close,"

⤑Wonwoo

There isn't a moment that Wonwoo isn't always just a little bit overly cautious during your various sexual escapes.

Whether it was a quickie in the bathroom of a Michelin Star restaurant or a divinely long session of lovemaking under the wooden beams of the ceiling, with both your bodies submerged in a sea of blankets. So completely consumed with one another, you've already filled the entire expanse of the messy California king with all your tussling and lovemaking. Wonwoo is always careful.

Infuriatingly so.

Howevsr, there are moments like tonight, where the stars were aligned just a little differently, and your long-term boyfriend was feeling all the more frisky.

You can feel his hands everywhere the very second he stormed into your bedroom from being cooped up in study.

What you expected would be the usual, sober, safe, sex with Wonwoo quickly bled into something else when he pushed open your legs and pulled down your underwear along with your tight pink bum shorts in a single fell swoop.

"Uh -" Your body just let itself be undressed by him. All you could do was watch your boyfriend and his stoney visage as he paid special attention to undressing you. The warm glow of the overhead lights shone off his glasses as he lifted your torso up as if it was nothing, undressing you as if you were a child with underdeveloped motor skills.

"Did everything go okay at work-"

"I can't write. Jihoon wants to record tomorrow and I still haven't written my verse," Wonwoo pays extra attention to rubbing his hands on your soft supple skin. His shadow falls over you as you feel completely vulnerable underneath him, and he has yet to spare your actual eyes even a single glance.

"I'm sure every amazing rapper's had writer's block once and a whi- FUCK!" Your head shot back into the pillows as Wonwoo buried his face in between your legs, eating you out with the most fervour he'd ever radiated in a single sitting. Gone was the poised, level headed Wonwoo. He died somewhere between the pages of his coffee stained notebook.

"God- Wonwoo-" he sticks his tongue out, lapping hungrily at your cunt that only gushes for him. He hums against the tortured skin and your fingers immediate reach for his scalp.

"Fuck-" he mumbles against your cunt before lifting his head, "Can't work like this-" he says before pulling off his thick rimmed glasses and discarding it somewhere on the bed. Your eyes cross the moment his plush lips rub against your cunt and your hips lift almost automatically from the bed. His hands are encircled around your ample thighs, promising you you're not going anywhere and his mouth visibly moves as he begins to eat you out in the most literal, most vile display of eating out you'd ever witness.

One tap on your thigh let's you know you're not watching him like he wants you to. Eye contact was sacred and Wonwoo always let you know.

You gain enough energy to crane you head down to make eye contact but the second you see his mess of overgrown hair, tousled from your harsh grip, or the eager, half lidded eyes, you're completely done for. You gush all over his face, and your limbs wrack and writhe, but he keeps you locked there.

"W-Wonwoo- Fuck-i cant-"

He doesn't listen, as if trapped in his own reverie of pussy-drunk pleasure as he continues to slurp at your cunt with his mouth sucrioned onto your clit.

"Wonwoo- Baby- please-"

He's far too locked away in the essence of you, way too fargone in the softness of your cunt to begin to realize you're becoming way too overstimulated.

It's only when you're tapping furiously at the side of his head, furiously screaming, "YODA! FUCK- YODA-" that he's ungluing his puffy lips from your poor clit, breathing heavily with his eyes wide as ifhed just been set free from the shackles of a spell. You're crying. That's the first thing he noticed. The second is your quivering legs, shaking like autumn leaves in the wind. Your bottom lip is shaking too, that's what gets him scrambling beside you where he immediately envelops you in the warmth of his embrace.

"I'm sorry, Princess-" and you can tell he means it, but still you weep silently.

Your voice is quivering as you say, "You-You know I can't go again so quickly after... after..." Your chest rises and falls and rises and falls and Wonwoo immediately presses your face into his chest, to let you air out all the bad emotions onto his plain white tee.

"I thought I was doing something good for you, but I only ended up thinking about myself," he admits against your forhead, where his lips refuse to part.

"I just... needed a break from work-" he says, "I'm sorry," and you forgive him because It's him.

⤑Mingyu

"Shh," he whispers, pulling your braids across your shoulders as he makes direct eye contact with you in the mirror, "This'll be really quick, I promise."

"I dunno, bro-" you whisper back, despite your hands already gripping the marble finishes of the bathroom sink. "Your quickies are never as quick as they need to be-" you say, pushing you ass back against the bulge in his designer jeans as you lower your torso to the sink.

Mingyu smiled from the mirror, something diabolical, his hair cropped, and his skin crisp from the warm, orange glow of the bathroom. Outside, somewhere down a labyrinth of corridors, the rest of his group sat in the VIP section of the televised award show. All of them humming along to whatever group has taken the stage with the hopes that their rapper would make it out on time for their own performance.

"You just indirectly told me I last long, baby," he says, clutching his heart through his Balmain dress shirt while making heart eyes at you through the mirror.

"Hurry or you're gonna miss your-"

"Fuck you're so wet- why are you so wet?" Mingyu rubs the softness of your ass while examining the gush of arousal coating your panties. He lifts his head, "I'm going to breed you-"

"Mingyu-"

He's already pulling his pants down, quick enough to pull his dick out and shove it inside your cunt. Your lips part and your head pushes against the mirror and you're seeing absolute stars. Quickies with Mingyu always felt particularly barbaric because of how sloppy he tended to get. His tongue practically rolled out his mouth like the golden retriever he was so often described to be, while he rutted into you with some base heavy trap song pouring through the speakers.

"F-Fuck, Mingyu- please,"

What he thought was a silent plead for more, spurred Mingyu. He was an insatiable brute as he laid a hand on your back, pushing you further against the sink. When the side of your face hit the marble, your blood ran cold.

"I'm going to fucking breed you , baby." His eyes are obscured by heavily tinted designer shades and his head his thrown back in ecstasy. He was beginning to drill his cock into you and you were beginning to find there is nothing you can do about it.

"'Gyu- you can't come inside, you know that-"

"I really don't think you should be on those pills anymore, babe-"

You instinctively lift your head to try to glimpse him through the mirror because he was talking crazy. His hand lifts his shirt as he drills into you, revealing his chiseled core and a near perfect lopsided smile.

"Are you talking about my birth control?"

Instead of giving you a response: "Down-" He grunts, forcing you to bend over again as his thrusts became sloppily and sloppily, "Almost there, don'wanna miss the performance-"

"Mingyu you're not cumming inside me-"

"Fuck- why not? You're so perfect and so tight. Your body's just begging for me to fuck a baby into it-"

"PEPPERONI-" You scream immediately bullying him off of you until he's stumbling backwards and your back is pressed against the marble. You watch him shake his head, pants loose around his waist and yet he still somehow locked infuriatingly perfect.

"What the fuck- DUDE!" You can barely keep the anger from seeping out of your voice as you glare down your irresponsible boyfriend.

"WHAT THE FUCK-"

"I didn't finish!" he whines while stomping on the ground with his heavy sneakers.

"Were you seriously going to finish inside me!? After I explicitly told you-"

"Shh, shh," Mingyu says, stepping towards you to even out the angry creases on your forhead. "It was just for the fantasy, babe," he whispers, "Just for the fanatsy,"

⤑ Vernon

You didn't wanna say the word. It just sorta slipped. Straddling Hansol while some Pixar film played in the back was definitely not how you expected your second sexual encounter to go. There was still so much you had to learn about one another. Your bodies were vast fields of uncharted territory, and you weren't particularly sure Vermon would like all of those parts.

"Fuck, you're so hot- he whispers against your bare chest because discarding your shirt had been the first order of business. "So beautiful-"

You had begun rutting against him, with your skirt falling over his sweatpants, and your breathing became heavier and heavier. There was no explaining the tension that bubbled as your cunt rubbed greedily against his front but you were well aware of that feeling.

"God, you feel so damn good," he whispers, "You gonna cum for me?" Hansol's voice is utterly dripping with sex and all you can do is whimper as you dig your fingers into his hair- "Hansol, I-"

"Fuck, I think you're gonna cum from humping me, baby? Thats so hot..." A pool of wetness trickled from your cunt and it stole all the strength to immediately push yourself off screaming "NEMO-" you tapped out.

"Woah-" Vernon looks confused, justifiably so as you scoot to the floor, your legs quivering underneath you as your orgasm ebbed away.

"What do you need?"

You evade eye contact as you speak. "I just... didn't wanna disgust you or anything-"

"Dude, 'disgust' is literally the last thing on my mind. What's the problem?" You're still unable to make eye contact, causing Vernon to sigh as he sits forward with his elbows on his knees, to get closer to you in height.

"Is it the movie? I never thought Pixar would end up being a cockblock-"

"I nearly squirted." You admit. "Like everywhere-"

A moment of silence swells between you two and you can feel your heart sinking with every passing second. You wish to be anywhere but here. You could already smell all the warm popcorn you would ingest out of heartbreak, all the movies you'd-

"Fuck, and you thought that would 'disgust' me?" You peer up at him in pure wonder while lust descends on his visage like a shadow. "Sit on my face right now."

given ♡ vernon

pairing: stoner!vernon x stoner!fem reader word count: 4.0k warnings: smut. praise. clitoral stimulation. unprotected sex. (sort of) dubcon? they both wanted this for a while but they're both high while having sex. oral (m. receiving).

songs: slow - jackson wang & ciara (omfg this is so good to listen to while reading trust), fairy of shampoo - txt

'stoner friend!vernon who only meets you every Saturday midnight to get high with you, always says things which makes you flustered and finally confesses after a FEW months(yk it takes time for him to open so) high sex with him is so hot, holding ur jaw open and blowing that smoke into you, its just so messy yet so sexy'.

Based off the above prompt from my asks! Not proofread, let me know if there're mistakes.

This is probably one of my favourite works to date. Anon who gave me this prompt, I love you. I know you probably intended this as a drabble, but I got a bit carried away since I love the concept. I hope you all have as much reading this as I did writing it!

masterlist/navigation send me an ask! (it will take me a while lol)

“Long fucking day, Vernon.”

All you hear is his muffled chuckle. He’s laying down, facing the ceiling. A fresh puff of smoke exits his mouth in a graceful arc. 

The room is slightly hazy, as if you’d been scorching butter in a pan and turned the exhaust filters off, filling the room in smoke. The smell is something you’ve never really liked, but it’s easy to adjust. The more you smoke with Vernon, the more comforting it feels, the more you wish you were with him. 

He hands you his half-depleted blunt, and you take a quick hit. 

The first few times, you’d practically hacked up a lung. It was embarrassing, to say the least, but Vernon gave you mildly reassuring pats on the back and didn’t seem to care that you looked like a deer in headlights.

Not anymore. Every Saturday at midnight, after a long, tiring week at work, you just head to Vernon’s place. It’s instinctive, ingrained into your brain, as familiar to you as your own fingerprints. Sometimes you don’t even realise you’re heading to your safe haven until you’re there, greeted by his half-lidded eyes.

Part of you is concerned. Not just for him, but yourself. How is it that, every time something goes mildly wrong, you’re back in the comfort of Vernon’s bed, the stench of weed lingering on your clothes? 

You’re not complaining. You can both straighten up when you need to. A night spent rolling blunts could quickly form into an early morning trip to the shop for groceries. No one would be able to tell you got so high so often until the moment they stepped into Vernon’s house.

You blow into the air, head void of thoughts. The annoying colleagues at work were no longer a concern. 

He sits up, looking over at you. “You’re quiet. More than usual.”

Casting a side glance at the boy, you grin. “I guess so.”

You half expect him to follow on, but he simply eyes you up and down, noticing something that made him raise an eyebrow.

“You’re in pain, aren’t you?”

When the blunt is finished, you take a new paper roll and begin to stuff it with the familiar, camouflage-coloured substance. No response leaves your mouth as you focus on sealing it properly.

“Yeah. What tells you that?”

“Your posture is different. Uncomfortable. Unfamiliar.”

Something resembling an incredulous laugh bubbles up in your throat. “I love how you could tell the difference even when I didn’t know.”

“What is it?” Vernon asks, snatching the blunt you were on the cusp of lighting. You frown. 

“Migraine. I took some ibuprofen this morning since it was killing me but it didn’t really do anything.” 

With a nod of acknowledgement, he tentatively reaches out to give you the weed back. Before you can take it, Vernon quickly retracts.

“I know you make your way through migraines high, but I read about this pressure point on your spine or something that can relieve it a lot. You should try that first. I don’t like seeing you high just to feel better.”

You’re about to protest, but in the midst of annoyance, you see an opportunity. A bit evil, a bit perverted, but nonetheless a beautiful opportunity. 

Without hesitation, you immediately pull off your shirt. “Find it for me,” you grin innocently. “I’ve tried it before, but I couldn’t find it.”

Vernon’s gaze is completely averted in a different direction. You feel touched at him making a point of being respectful, but you wouldn’t actually care if he looked. 

“You can put your shirt back on,” Vernon coughs, holding back a sceptical laugh. “I can probably reach it under your shirt.”

“I’m warm,” you giggle, “I was going to take my shirt off anyways. You’re allowed to look, you know. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

At that, Vernon nearly chokes on air. Hesitantly, he turns back to face you, mildly fazed by the sight of you lying down, so unapologetic. You smile at him innocently. “Whereabouts is it?” you ask, absentmindedly feeling the subtle ridges of your spine.

Vernon feels almost corrupted, the way his mind is running miles every second. You’re wearing a tight, cute, lacy little white bra, and it’s taking insane self-awareness to not just gawk at the pretty curve of your tits. He can’t tell if you know what you’re doing, or if you’re just being as raw and unfiltered as you always are.

“It’s going to be kind of hard to reach, but it’s, like, in the middle of your back. Do you really want me to find it?”

You hum affirmatively with a grin. 

Vernon shyly adds, “You’re gorgeous, by the way.”

There it is. The dubious compliments he peppers into conversation. It’s nothing new, you’re both used to saying things like that. You say it because you want him to know what you think, but you’re not sure what his intention is. Does he genuinely think that? Does he really think that?

Without a response, you sit up slightly, leaning into his frame. He had kept a safe distance before, not wanting to frighten you away, but you’re the one closing that space now. His face is mere centimetres from you, so close that you can smell the gentle, musky scent of his perfume. 

“Really?” you reply, doing your best not to outwardly show how flustered you were.

“Yeah,” Vernon responds, gulping. His voice drops to a low whisper. “The prettiest.” 

He’s complimented you like that before, and you dug it every time. On this occasion, however, you’re not sure if it’s the residual weed hanging around in the air, but you feel compelled to ruin the friendship. How would he react if you kissed him, right there? Leaned into his touch, let him put his hands all over you, like you had always wanted? Would he want that too? 

You figure you can go a little further, blaming it on the weed when you know, in reality, it’s what you’ve wanted all along. With a playful grin, you poke him in the cheek with your pointer finger and turn around, unclasping your bra and leaving it on loosely, before laying down on your stomach. 

“Go on. Do your little fancy acupuncture thing,” you say softly, a slight challenge in your voice. You know he’ll take the bait.

He wordlessly gets up and hooks one leg over the back of your thighs, and sits on them, leaving you wonderfully trapped under his lithe figure. Admittedly, you didn’t think he’d be that bold, but he’s probably just high. 

“You’re warm,” you state stupidly. Out of everything you could have said, that was probably the most dumb choice. You hear him let out a soft, breathy chuckle. He presses one hand firmly down onto the pillow by your head, using it to prop himself up. The soft fabric dips under his weight.

Vernon traces the nape of your neck with his fingertips, feeling around for a ridge. His fingers are cold, and you feel a shiver rush down your spine. 

Leisurely, he trails his fingers down your spine, and you can’t help but relax into his touch. At some points, he feels around gradually, looking for more ridges to find the spot he was looking around for.

“Your skin’s soft,” he says, mind empty. You can’t put your finger on it, but the honeyed tone in his otherwise low voice tells you a thousand words he’s been holding back. You feel your abdomen tighten a little with expectant flutters.

“I know,” you reply, voice full of longing. 

Vernon’s hand seems to catch on a particular point of your mid-back, and he breathes out. “It’s gonna hurt a little, but just bear with me.”

You want to tell him that, after all of this time of wanting to kiss him, touch him, feel him up, you’d let him hurt you if it meant he stayed closer to you. That felt sick and twisted, however, so you simply hum, and add, “Whatever you say, Vernon.”

The pads of his pointed and middle fingers press down, somewhat harshly, on a particularly bony ridge of your spine. He’s right, it does hurt, and you can’t help but groan a little and shift in discomfort. He holds your waist in place with his other hand, cold skin giving you the kind of chill that takes your mind off the sting. You partly wish he wasn’t holding you down for the sake of relieving your migraine, but you figure you’ll take whatever you can get.

It’s brief, however, but what surprises you the most is the way you feel your migraine slowly dissolving away like sugar in warm water. You have hundreds of questions to ask, but with the weed coursing through your respective systems, all you feel is calming coolness.

“How does that feel?” he asks quietly. He breathes with an almost imperceptible quiver in his voice.

“I feel so much better, what the heck?” you murmur. 

Briefly, he gets up so you can turn back to face him. He shows no sign of returning to his position straddling his thighs, so you reach out with one arm and gently clasp your fingers around his left thigh, beckoning him to sit on top of you again. His eyes narrow, squinting, but he follows your direction. 

Biting the inside of his lip, he leans forward. Your mind rushes with the number of possibilities, but he simply holds your arms by the wrists and drapes them over his shoulders, then reaching behind you. His eyes hold your observant gaze, and you hate how you feel yourself getting increasingly warm at his graceful touch. Fingers reaching for your bra, he gently clasps it back together, and you swallow as you feel his knuckles brushing against your back. 

The moment Vernon is done, he retracts his hands, but doesn’t pull away from you entirely. You feel his cold fingers settle on either side of your waist, and you resist the urge to shiver. His breath caresses your face, but his eyes remain trained on yours.

“What’re you doing to me?” Vernon mutters, lips just barely brushing yours. 

“You should be telling me what you want me to do to you,” you whisper hoarsely. The palms of your hands settle on your shoulders, fingers tracing circles on his shirt. 

“Anything. Everything.”

A wry smile crosses your face. 

“How long?”

Vernon’s grip on your waist tightens just slightly. “Months ago, from the first time we smoked together.”

Your lips are on his. They’re soft like velvet and taste like jasmine. He reacts to your touch so subtly, so gently, that you could cry; his eyelids flutter shut, kissing you back, and his muscles relax as he breathes out. 

“You have…” he kisses you quickly. “No idea—” Kiss. “How much,” he groans, “I thought…” he sucks your bottom lip for a fleeting moment. “About you.”

“Really? What did you think?” you respond, kissing him more as you wait for a response. Your fingers trail down his front, eventually reaching the hem of his shirt and tugging it up. He helps you pull it off, eyes peering at yours as your smile grows the more of his torso is revealed.

“Everything. The way you exhale and suck the smoke back into your mouth, the way you blow smoke into my face whenever you’re frustrated, the way you moan every time you get a rush. There’s not a part about you I don’t like.”

You beam at him, wordlessly shifting positions until you’re on top of him, straddling his thighs, reminiscent of only a few seconds before. 

Feeling unsatisfied, you shift forward a little until your clothed cunt is directly on top of his cock, and you watch him wince a little as you settle. 

Vernon takes the rolled blunt and places the tip in his mouth, but falters, seeing that the lighter is missing. Not for long, however, since you pull what he’s looking for out of your skirt pocket, lighting it and setting his blunt aflame. He smirks as you do so. 

He lets the smoke flood his mouth for a few seconds, before removing the blunt and holding it between two fingers. With a nod of his head, he signals for you to open your mouth; tentatively, his thumb and index fingers hold your jaw open by either cheek, and he breathes out the smoke into your mouth by kissing you. 

The warmth of his soft lips and the smoke has you melting into his mouth, and you let the smoke simmer in your mouth for a moment before slowly blowing it out into the air. 

Smiling at him, you take the joint from him and take a hit yourself, doing the same to him in return. This time, the kiss is leisurely, tendrils of smoke escaping the corner of your joined lips as his teeth pull on your lips. 

You shift a little as you kiss him, wanting to get more comfortable, but he simply freezes, eyes widening. “Fuck, I’m sensitive,” he mumbles, grimacing. Vernon briefly pulls away to throw his head back and tightly close his eyes, letting the wave of pleasure diffuse through him in the form of goosebumps. “Don’t do that. I’ll end up wanting more.”

“What if that’s what I’m hoping for?” you smile into his neck, enjoying the way his neck rumbles a little as he chuckles half-heartedly. 

“You kill me.” 

“I know,” you respond, feigning remorse, “not my fault you respond to every touch.”

“And you don’t?” Vernon raises an eyebrow in response. His fingers fiddle with the belt of your pencil skirt, unclasping and unravelling the annoying garment. Before long, he has your skirt cast aside, on the floor, and you’re seated on top of him in just your bra and panties. 

It takes Vernon a lot of willpower to not just lay you down and please you until you physically couldn’t any more—while it remains an option, he opts to touch you slowly, surely, taking his time with you. If it took so long for you to be so pretty and ready for him, it wouldn’t hurt to treat you softly. 

Unable to resist, you grind down on his clothed cock.

You wish you could imprint the gorgeous, guttural groan into your mind forever.

“Fuck, you know I’m sensitive. I’ll come too quickly, go slow— fuck.”

“What if I want that?”

Placing two hands firmly onto your bare hips, he halts your movements and finally looks you in the eye. “Not yet. I want to see you come first. Can you do that for me?”

“Why’s that?” you giggle, placing your hand onto his as he runs his middle finger through the band of your panties.

“I don’t think I can go any longer imagining it in my head. I want you to come all over my fingers. Just do that, and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Pressing your lips to his, you guide him by the wrist, letting his fingers sneak past your underwear and take what he wants. The moment his chilly fingers make contact with your wet cunt, you feel him jump a little, halting his kisses for a split second before pressing the pads of his fingers onto your clit.

The last thing you were expecting was for it to feel that good. You’re sure it’s the weed—getting off never felt so explosive. You bury your head into the crook of his shoulder, practically squeezing his neck with your forearm. He peppers your neck with butterfly kisses as his fingers rub slow circles on your sensitive bud, utterly infatuated with how you react so readily to him, how you’re so vocal and open.

Vernon eggs you on, whispering nearly inaudible praises like, “That’s it, gorgeous,” and “Go on, take what you deserve,” and “God, you’re perfect.” As the joint burns itself out on his ashtray, you cry out softly into his skin, unable to tolerate the deliciously gentle way he touches you. 

“Are you gonna come for me?” he asks somewhat bashfully. It’s a change from the previous confident tone, and you realise he genuinely just wants to know how you’re doing, how you’re feeling, if you’re enjoying it. You clench your fists, trying to avoid hurting him by clasping onto him instead. 

After Vernon sucks a particularly common spot on your neck, you nod subtly. “Yeah, fuck, I am. Your fingers feel so good, Vernon, I can’t—”

“Yeah, you can.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Come whenever you want, baby.”

So you do. With a softened whine, you clutch his neck tightly as if you were giving him a final hug goodbye. You feel his fingertips tighten around nothing, lightly brushing your warm back as he follows you through your orgasm, whispering, “Good girl. So good for me. You’re so beautiful.”

You jolt a little as he teasingly continues to brush his fingers over your clit, unable to withstand the further stimulation. In a split second, you unwind your arms from his shoulders and place your hands on either side of his neck, taking his lips in yours. 

You can’t be sure how long you sit there, making out like teenagers through the post-orgasm bliss, but you can’t complain—if you found the sun rising over your heads after opening the curtains, signalling the beginning of a new day, you couldn’t be angry. You’d keep it going, kissing his lips until you were both raw and breathless. 

Vernon’s fingers sneak their way behind your back and swiftly unclip the hook of your bra, letting it loosen and fall off your shoulders. Not breaking away, you help him undress you, pulling off the bra and tossing it a fair distance away. He immediately places his hands under your arms, letting his thumbs toy with your pebbled nipples, 

“You’re even more stunning than I imagined, if that’s even possible,” he murmurs, removing his lips from yours for a moment to look at you through hooded eyes. Vernon’s lips are cherry-red, slightly puffy, and his cheeks are tinted a pretty shade of rose. 

“Don’t even get me started on you,” you breathe. 

Vernon kisses you again in response, hooking his arms under your thighs and lifting you up. He flips your position until he’s back on top of you, reminiscent of the moment twenty minutes ago when he was just reaching behind you to fiddle with your garments. 

Reaching over to the nightstand, you pick up the remnants of the previous joint you’d smoked together. As he undresses the last of himself, you roll a second one, lighting it and placing it in your mouth. 

“Pass me the other one,” Vernon asks, positioning himself on top of you. It takes him a moment to realise your panties are still on, so he quickly slips that off, and finally hovers above you, one elbow propping him up. He takes the half-extinguished blunt and lights it by touching the tip to yours, smirking a little as the smoke billows off.

One thumb massages your thigh as you both let the weed re-enter your systems. You take them out at the same time, blowing the smoke into the air, and finally meeting his eyes.

His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest he’s ever looked. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s naked and on top of you, or the fact that he’s unfalteringly holding your gaze. Whatever it is, you feel yourself going weak and tingly under his watchful eyes. 

“Fuck me, Vernon,” you sigh, taking another hit. “Please. You promised.” 

“Only because you asked nicely,” he smiles, kissing you gently. He palms his cock, which is thick, and lengthy in his pale hand. “You sure?” 

“I’ve wanted this for longer than you’d imagine.”

With that, Vernon pushes into you. A drawn-out, gruff groan leaves you both; you’re coping with his girth, he’s coping with how you seem to swallow him perfectly. 

“You’re so tight,” he flutters. “Holy fuck.” With the blunt still in his mouth, he looks down to see where you end and he begins; you wish you could tattoo the look on his face into your mind to remember forever.

Vernon merely whispers, “Perfect girl,” before finally extinguishing the short stump of his joint in the ashtray. Not wanting to wait further, he slowly withdraws himself and slams back into your tight cunt, elated by the way you gasped softly and wince at the sensation. Loving your reaction, he makes a point of slowly fucking you, eventually leaning in and holding your jaw open. You smile before he kisses you, breathing the smoke into your open mouth, and this time, you keep it in your system.

“You feel even better than I imagined. I’m not going to last long,” Vernon moans, burying his face into your neck. Your fingers trace the ridges of his back, and following a particularly sharp thrust, you dig into his skin with your fingernails, eliciting a gorgeous groan.

“Come whenever you want, Vernon. But… what did you imagine… how did you imagine?” you reply into his hair, which is slightly sweaty but still soft. You caress the areas you just pressed, afraid of hurting his beautiful and sensitive skin. 

“The only relief I had was my hand, baby. That doesn’t compare to you, not one bit. I’m not going to let you leave after this.”

“Believe me, I won’t,” you snicker, followed by an uncontrolled moan. “Fuck— maybe we’ll have to take a week off work and just stay here. Fuck it out of your… our systems. Like bunnies.”

“Fucking hell, baby, don’t give me ideas.”

“How about I do?” you giggle, clenching on him. He responds with nothing but a stutter in his smooth thrusts. You decide to squeeze him, over and over, just to see his response.

Vernon’s hand squeezes your waist for relief. “Fuck, don’t,” he mumbles, “I’m going to come. Fuck. Where should I? Tell me.”

“Anywhere,” you answer, running a hand through his soft, brown locks, “anywhere you want.”

“In your mouth?”

“Please.”

With a groan, he pulls out, weakly fucking his hand and letting you sit up. You take his cock into your mouth, and you’re oddly turned on by the fact that you taste yourself on him. You watch as he grimaces, head thrown back, one hand fisting your hair and bobbing you up and down on him repeatedly. 

You’d suck him off whenever if it meant seeing him that weak and like putty in your hands every time. With tears balling in the corners of your eyes, you let him skullfuck you until he comes right right onto your tongue, his grip subconsciously tightening in your hair. 

“Fuck,” he curses. “That’s it.”

It takes him a few moments to come down from the sudden and prolonged high, and when he comes to his senses, he quickly looks at you with concern. 

Vernon holds his hand out by your mouth. “It’s okay, spit. That can’t taste good.”

You smile, sticking your tongue out. 

“Too late,” you grin mischievously.

Vernon blinks. 

“Cat got your tongue, huh?” you question with a chuckle.

“God, you’re my dream girl,” Vernon replies, still mildly stunned. He leans over to kiss you, slightly uncomfortable because you’re both sat up on your legs, but that’s alright.

He’d kiss you forever if he could.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” Vernon beams. 

“Only if we come back straight away and fuck again. I’m sorry not sorry, but waiting that long, I’m not satiated that easily,” you shrug, looking at his lips and then his eyes as he leans in ever so slightly to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb. 

Pressing a soft kiss to your lips, he smiles, looking utterly smitten. 

“Baby, that was a given.” 

Svt and what they prefer, ass or boobs? 🥰

Lots of love 4 U.🥰

ᝰ.ᐟ — SVT ⟢ ass or boobs

› nsfw is included ┆ smut — requested ꩜. minors dni.

PERFERS ASS ;

.ᐟ seungcheol, jihoon, mingyu, vernon : oh they are OBSESSED with their s/o’s ass they will slap, fuck, bite, mark, sleep on it, they do not care what they do for the love of god, & it’s so hot how much they love it, even in public they do not gaf, they will hit it to make sure everyone knows your his, secretly ( not so much ) their favorite position is doggy-style when it comes to having intimacy.

PREFERS BOOBS ;

.ᐟ jeonghan, junhui, seokmin, minghao, seungkwan : now they have INSANE boob play & i mean it when i say it, i just have this dirty thought that they’ll bury themselves into your chest, like they are not here to play they are serious when it comes to your tits & you know it will have little love bites all the time, even sometimes they’ll make it a bit swollen from how much they bite & suck it.

PERFERS BOTH ;

.ᐟ joshua, soonyoung, wonwoo, chan ; now these guys, can’t not pick for gods sake they just love’em both, also i have these vision that he will kiss you from your tits till your bum & that’s so hot like I’m crying, you also would have to know that splutters of cum would taint your boobs & ass like it’s canon for you both, god he would also fuck your ass & grope your tits at the same time, making you arch your back so hard.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! I hope you enjoy this anon, ily ! [ divders by @/ cafekitsune. ]

heyyy hope you're having a good day

so imagine meeting Vernon's family for the first time. you were so nervous but his parents were really nice so you felt comfortable instantly, But as you had been tense for days you felt the need to get off, so when he showed you his childhood bedroom you needed him to fuck you right then and there. As y'all know Vernon is disciplined and wouldn't want you to misbehave either. but he finally agreed when you begged (how can he resist you) he didn't want you to make a sound tho... soo wall sex with Vernon in his childhood bedroom with his fam outside?

hii omg yes, thank you! I hope you are having a great day too!!! <3

interesting that you came to me about vernon since he is still up in challenge me and i haven't written anything about him yet BUT... i love it, hehe.

So, as a thank you for this, find a little bit more under the read more... hehe.

PAIRING: Vernon x Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: begging, slight degradation, use of pet names (baby, slut, whore), doggy, dirty talk, creampie

WORDCOUNT: 620

"You really are insatiable, aren't you, baby?" Vernon chuckles behind you. His body is pressed against yours, your breath stuck in your throat as you feel his member throb inside of you. He hasn't moved since he entered you, your hips wiggling, but he doesn't let you go. Instead he kisses your neck, sucks on the sensitive skin. Both of you are aware his family is outside. Both of you know it's risky. And yet, how could he ever say no to you, especially when you begged him to fuck you? Just the words alone: "Vernonie... I need your cock, please just fuck me, I'll be quiet!" had already been it for him.

"P-Please," you whined now, tears pooling in your eyes. Your boyfriend smirks against your skin, one hand that was holding you against the wall before now moves down and to your front, thumb pressing down on your sensitive clit.

"Really think you can take it? And be quiet, my little slut?" You nod rapidly and Vernon licks his lips before he finally does his first thrust, having you gasp. Your walls clench around him and he presses his face against your neck, hips now not able to stop from fucking into you. When he hears your first moan, he brings his other hand to your mouth, his cock drilling into you at even quicker speed. His mouth is dropped as he watches how his cock slides in and out of you, his orgasm not far. You had riled him up so bad and now you were here, your frontside pressed against the wall of his childhood bedroom, his cock deep inside your wet and needy pussy. Never could he say no to you, never could he resist knowing he had you in the room he used to sleep in, jerking off to images of you, his high school crush.

"Fuck, you're so tight and wet for me, baby, such a needly little whore, can't even wait until we're back home for me to fuck her." His words make your eyes roll back and you throw your hips against him, having him reposition you as a reaction. Now, he has your back arched, your hands prepped against the wall as he fucks you like this, one hand still on your mouth while the other is on your back, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again, sure to have you see stars in less than a few minutes. Your boyfriend throws his head back, a deep groan leaving him when he feels you pulsating around his length. You wanna scream, tell him to fill you up, but you know him well enough to know he will do so anyways. He always does what you need him to, even without you saying it.

And you're right - he continues his spiel, his hips at perfect speed and strength, his breath getting heavier, his groans becoming more desperate. When he feels you come undone around him, drool against his hand so close to drip down your chin, he can't help it anymore.

"Yeah, just like that, cum on my cock, baby. Milk me, fuck, gonna cum and fill you up so good, shit." He lets his hand wader to your hair, pulling you up against his chest as he finishes inside of you; hot perfect cum shooting inside of you, both of you riding your highs out with each other.

Once he slips out of you, he turns you around, his lips finding yours without any trouble.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips and you giggle.

"I love you too. Now, please get me something to clean myself up before your cum drips on your parent's carpet."

20:40

One of the most exciting days for you was always when Vernon came back home after weeks or sometimes months on tour. He would sweep you into the biggest, warmest hug, making you feel whole again. You’d spend hours catching up, talking about the tour, how much you missed each other, and the new foods he’d tried while he was away. To top it all off, you’d always go on a date that same day—usually something silly and fun like the arcade or bowling.

However, today was different from your usual routine. Vernon came home looking tired, but there was something else, too—something that seemed to be weighing on him. The hug that usually melted all your worries away felt short and distant. Instead of heading to your shared room to talk, Vernon quietly slipped off his old clothes, threw on some basketball shorts, and lay down on the bed, face halfway buried in the pillow.

You followed him, sitting on your side of the bed and looking at your boy.

“Baby,” you said softly, giving him a gentle shake. Vernon turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, and his pink lips set in a pout.

“Bub, you okay?” you asked, stroking his fluffy brown hair.

“Just sleepy,” he mumbled.

“Yeah?” you replied, and he nodded.

“Sleep well,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, bub,” he murmured, finally closing his eyes completely.

Vernon ended up sleeping longer than you expected, and eventually, you drifted off as well. When you woke up, it was around 1 a.m., and you noticed Vernon wasn’t beside you. You found him on the patio, smoking a blunt in silence. He didn’t smoke often, but when he did, you knew something was wrong.

“Baby,” you said quietly from the doorway. Vernon sat on a chair, his elbows on his knees, the blunt in his right hand. He turned his head to look at you.

“Hi, Princess,” he said, motioning for you to sit on his lap. You walked over, straddling his lap and burying your head into the crook of his neck.

“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much today,” he whispered, rubbing your back.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, your voice soft.

“What’s the matter, baby?” you asked, lifting your head to look into his eyes. Vernon placed the blunt in the ashtray and shook his head.

“Love, you can tell me,” you encouraged, bringing your hands from his neck to his hair. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He took a deep breath before speaking. “I think I want to go back private,” he said, looking into your eyes. You paused for a moment, waiting to see if he had more to say.

“That’s fine,” you replied without hesitation.

“I saw the way people were talking in your comments the other day,” he continued.

A few days ago, you had posted a picture of you and Vernon before he left for tour. Some fans were upset, leaving hurtful comments, but you hadn’t taken them to heart. Vernon knew that things like this didn’t usually bother you, but he still didn’t like that it was happening. He had also received a bunch of messages about the post from fans.

“And I’m so sorry you have to see all those mean things just because I’m your boyfriend,” he said, his sad brown eyes looking up at you. He rested his head on your chest, and you gently played with his hair.

“And I don’t want to be a bad boyfriend and not protect you from that kind of stuff,” he added.

“Oh, baby, don’t apologize,” you soothed, still running your fingers through his hair. “It’s not your fault. You shouldn’t feel guilty because of other people’s actions.”

“But if I was a regular guy, you wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of stuff,” he murmured.

“Maybe, but I knew what I was getting into when you asked to be my boyfriend,” you reassured him.

“I just feel like a bad boyfriend for putting you through that,” he said, sounding slightly upset.

“You’re not a bad boyfriend. You’ll never be a bad boyfriend,” you said gently, trying to calm him down.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Positive,” you affirmed. “But, baby, if you feel this way, we can go back private—just me and you.”

“Yeah?” he asked quietly, looking at you with hope in his eyes.

“Of course,” you said, smiling at him.

Vernon wrapped his arms around you even tighter, placing tender kisses on your neck and up to your cheek.

“You’re truly the most perfect girl in the world,” he whispered in your ear. “Like, seriously, I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you.”

“I’d do anything for you, baby, and you know that,” you said before kissing his soft lips. “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

“I didn’t like sharing you that much anyway,” he teased, making you laugh. He smiled at the sound of your laughter.

“I love you so much, Princess,” he whispered near your ear, his voice filled with affection.

“I love you too, bub,” you replied, giggling at his ticklish kisses.

That night, you both decided to take a step back from the public eye. You deleted all your posts with Vernon and made your account private. Vernon deleted his post with you and logged off Instagram for a while.

It was just you and him, back to where you both felt most at peace.

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okay so im back yet again. I wrote this like a month ago while I was listening to Mac miller and like came up with this idea idk. im not sure if it like my best work or even its a good idea in general, but yk it whatever. I hope you liked it guysss ily sm and thank for reading ofcc LOVE YAAA 🩷!! (also this was not proof read sooo sry if I fucked up somewhere)