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toxicanonymity · 4 months ago

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Wreck

PAIRING: Michael Myers x fem/afab Reader

ONE SHOT: 4300 words | MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: MM is unconscious and shackled in a broken down bus. Reader takes shelter there and takes advantage.

WARNINGS: 18+ noncon dry humping, oral, & PIV; size kink, size diff, mask kink, manhandling, creampie, forced cum inflation - erotic body horror, (self) cum play. smut goes hard. 😳

NOTES: Reader wears a chekov's dress, no pronouns used. MM never speaks, and his face and hair are undescribed, so you can HC a DILF of your choice under the mask. Even him.

For @megangovier, @aurorawritestoescape , @sofmoth , and the cumflation nation. Thank you for your support and Happy Shaperil, everyone (the halfway point between Octobers). 💙

Hitchhiking didn’t even seem like a good idea at the time. You weren’t kidding yourself. Not only did you accept the risk, but there was something about the risk that made you feel alive.

This time was different, though. You became more uneasy as the ride continued. The man kept looking over and eyeing your legs as you tugged your dress down. This wouldn’t have bothered you much if he were someone else. In fact, if he’d pulled over to fuck you, it wouldn’t be your first rodeo, but there was something sinister about this man, and not in a hot way. As he lost control of his truck, there was a split second where you thought, thank God–until the truck began to roll.

You escaped the wreck dizzy but unscathed. The adrenaline surging through your blood made you so horny you would’ve considered fucking the man after all, if he weren’t staring blankly into space as the life drained from his face.

After climbing out of the truck, you took a few deep breaths and surveyed the surroundings. Bodies were strewn across the road and an orange prisoner transport bus was hissing smoke from the distorted hood of its engine. This was bad. You needed to get as far away as you could.

The problem was, you were in the middle of nowhere, in an unforgiving desert, and you were almost out of water. None to be found in the wreckage of your ride, and you hesitated to approach the prisoner transport bus.

From the comfort of your bed, under the buzz of a toy, this could easily have been another fantasy of yours, but it seemed your survival instincts were kicking in after all.

So you took what water you had and set off on foot in the direction you were headed all along. With any luck, the transport vehicle wasn’t coming from too far away. Keeping a safe distance from the transport bus, you listened for any signs of life as you walked by it, and you heard none, until you were thirty paces away, and something thumped. You thought. Or was it your imagination? Pausing to listen, you didn’t hear another sound, and weren’t sure what you would have done if you did hear something else.

All you could do was walk, but with every step, you became less sure of your plan. You weren’t entirely sure what road you were even on, only that it was long and straight. State route something or other. No shade. Only cacti and tumbleweed. The road ahead faded into a slippery mirage. What do they say to do when you get lost? Stay in one place, right? Authorities would be looking for the transport bus. When they found it, they’d find you. Yeah. With that revelation, you turned around and headed back toward the bus.

As you walked by the bus this time, you came a little closer, and you had to do a double-take at one of the windows. An enormous man with a stark white face and dark eyes staring at the ceiling of the bus—no, not dark eyes. A mask. Your breath hitched. That’s when you read the lettering on the side of the bus for the first time:

SMITH’S GROVE SANITARIUM

Your chest went hot with recognition. You didn't feel alone anymore. The desert didn't feel quite as big.

The sun had been fading as you walked, but sunset seemed to accelerate after this revelation.

A crack of thunder told you why.

Fat drops of petrichor began to blacken the dusty road in perfect little circles. As the rain picked up, you cupped your hands together, turned your mouth to the sky for a drink.

You had a few choices, none of them good. Sit on the side of the road in the rain. Return to the wreckage and take shelter with your driver’s body. Flatten yourself under the transport bus like a cat. Or get on board.

You approached the open doors of the bus with your heart pounding. Was anyone alive in there? They would've left, wouldn't they? Why would Michael be wearing his mask?

With your first steps onto the stairs, the echo of your shoe made you jump. You took them off after climbing into the vehicle. The driver’s head was slumped over the steering wheel, eyes open. Some of the blood appeared to be dry. If there had been others in the bus, they must have fled before your accident.

The only bodies remaining were two, near the back: That hulking figure and a man in a white coat. Strewn about were an open box marked “evidence,” a ballpoint pen in the shape of a spine, scattered papers, and a box labeled MYERS 10-19-1957

You pieced together the scene: perhaps the doctor himself had provided the mask. People said he wasn’t right in the head. That he revered Michael as a force of nature who belonged in the wild. The scene before you began to resemble the ruins of ill fated plans to return Michael to his rightful state. The psychiatrist had even brought a knife for the killer–a knife that ended up in his own neck, somehow.

As you neared the bodies, you thought you heard what sounded like a quiet ventilator at a slow rhythm.

When you listened closer, you could hardly hear it over the rain and the best of your own heart. But something told you Michael was alive. He was alive, you could feel it. Dark energy radiated from his seat, making you weak, holding you captive. Your legs wouldn't move even if you wanted to run.

Was he hurt?

The sound of the rain hitting the roof of the bus was soothing. More soothing than it should have been.

When you got close enough to look at Michael from a different angle, you really began to feel how large he was. He was sturdy. His trunk was strong and thick. His arms were huge. You couldn't see his neck, but there was a sliver of skin exposed between the front of his jumpsuit and the rubber of the mask, and there was a thick vein there. The jumpsuit stretched over the expanse of his chest, and the rise and fall of it told you he was alive.

As your eyes panned down, your breath hitched at a raised lump on his lower torso.

A phallic lump, in just the right place… Jesus Christ, could it be that big?

Was he hard?

Was he awake?

You were transfixed by this bulge and the promise of its girth. Your body readied itself without your permission, churning slick into your core, opening up, making room for a monstrous intrusion. Your face heated up at the thought. You salivated. Your heart raced.

You looked away and closed your eyes, and felt it even stronger.

You sat down in the seat diagonal from his, but couldn't take your eyes off him. It was self preservation - he could come to life and attack at any moment. Willing yourself to think about anything else, you tried to imagine where you'd be without the crash.

Who knows how long you were sitting there, but the rain was heavier, and your loins were hotter. Your thighs stuck to the weathered brown seat as you began to rise. You were tingling, dripping, Throbbing, throbbing for this killer.

Unable to resist any longer, you approached. You watched his chest rise and fall at a steady rhythm. Listened for his breathing, no longer audible under the hard rain.

You inched ever closer, until you were facing him and placed your hand near his shoulder on the corner of the seat, a small slice of brown not covered by his body.

And then, you experimentally grazed the arm of his jumpsuit.

He didn't move.

You ran your fingers over his enormous biceps, and his muscles dwarfed your hand.

He didn't move.

You gave his arm a squeeze.

He didn't move.

He was slumped down in the seat a little bit and his hands were cuffed behind his back.

His feet were shackled.

You began to calculate how badly he could hurt you if he were to react to your closeness.

What kind of weapons could he use?

What would his instinct be?

Part of you was excited to find out.

You progressed from touching his arm to touching his chest. And then…. your hand traveled down his torso, growing ever closer to the telltale shape sprouting from his crotch.

The body under your hand became warmer as your palm slid down his core and swerved to the side of the massive log in its path.

You just barely grazed the side of it, and a shock of arousal seized your body, paralyzing you for just a moment.

You had to remember to breathe.

You were drooling, throbbing for him. Your hand shakily dragged down along the edge of the outline of his cock, the edge of your finger rubbing just hard enough against it to feel the heat of the shape, and the give of the organ.

He wasn't even at full mast. He was semi-hard. You looked up at the mask again. Checked his chest for any changes in breathing. He showed no signs of waking up. So you did it. You placed your hand there, gently, and cradled the shape of his dick.

You’d never been more aroused. It was enormous under your hand. It made you feel small. You were so turned on and also nervous. Could you even take him if you wanted to? Who were you kidding: you wanted to. But it was a scary thought. Who could possibly take a dick like this? Your hand rubbed him lightly, all the way down his shaft, between his spread legs, to feel his enormous balls, which gave you another zap of need.

And when your palms slid back up his dick, you pressed down a little harder. His girth swelled against your hand, twitched, and got firmer.

You slowly moved your hand, slid your palm up and down his shaft, feeling him stiffen into a bold, erect shape until his absurd girth strained the fabric of his jumpsuit.

He still hadn't woken up.

You placed one knee onto the seat, against his thigh. The seat was made for two, but his enormity meant there was barely any room for this. You straddled him with your thighs spread wide. God, the size of this man.

He could wake up at any moment and throw you across the bus or worse. He could probably do it even cuffed, you thought. But at this point, there was no turning back.

You wanted it too bad. As though physically possessed by the desire, nothing would stop you.

You had to feel him with your loins.

With your dress spread between your thighs, you lowered your crotch, and the front of your panties rubbed against his dick outline, making you shiver and erupt in goosebumps before you even came to rest on his warm, hard bulge.

Fuck, you were so wet.

You rubbed yourself up and down his stiff manhood and it made your clit throb and twitch, aching for relief. You grinded against him, bracing one hand on his shoulder, and groping your own breast with the other. Your breaths became heavy as pressure built in your belly. He twitched against your sensitive bundle of nerves and the tension burst, and pulsed, and released, echoing between your legs.You came as quietly as you could, your walks squeezing needily around nothing.

The last twitch of your hole was violent. It told you how bad you had to be filled.

You had to unzip him.

Above a white tank top and under a thin gold chain, his skin was littered with white scars and divots, scant chest hair–pepper with a little salt. Prison tattoos were barely visible through the thin, ribbed fabric. His middle was thick and strong, solid muscle padded by years of confinement.

As the zipper nearly reached his cock, you used both hands to pull on the fabric, trying to get it as far away from the skin as you could, trying to create space where there was none. You didn't want to hurt him. Didn't want to wake him up.

When you unzipped the rest of his suit, his cock bobbed even heavier than it looked.

You could hardly fathom the girth of what stood before you. There was no way you could wrap your hand around it. There was no way you could take it, could you?

There was no way you weren't going to try.

The fat, pink tip of his cock glistened with pre-cum. You gathered the ample saliva in your mouth, and brought your lips close to his cock. You were hit with a wave of his musk that nearly knocked you out, making your nipples hard and your jaw slack.

Next thing you knew, you were squatting between his feet. The ridged rubber flooring dug into the balls of your feet, with your legs folded neatly, making yourself compact between the seats. Your head bobbed forward and your lips engulfed his tip. You let it rest heavily on your tongue, appreciating the warm heft in your mouth. With a gentle suck, you took another inch into your mouth, feeling the crown of the head. Tonguing it. Then you tongued the slit, and the salty precum reminded you of your mission.

You held it in your mouth as saliva gathered in your mouth, then swirled your tongue around the cock head. You let it out of your mouth, connected by a string of spit, and drooled more spit onto it before swallowing and getting into position. You spread your saliva on his tip. Your panties were not a factor - the loose g-string was easily pulled to the side.

Back into straddling him, you held his shaft and almost had to squat with your bare feet on the seat instead of being on your knees to allow enough room for his cock between you. You rubbed his tip against your dripping entrance, up your slippery slit, and nudged your clit with it, then brought it back to your eagerly awaiting hole and lowered yourself. His cock slowly spread you open. The stretch burned and radiated outward - the wide tip seemed to occupy all of you already. But you let gravity take you down further, and really, you hadn't even taken the whole tip - was just the initial curve. Slowly sinking onto him, the stretch intensified as you accommodated the girth of his tip and bit your lip. It was an exhilarating feat.

There was going back.

It burned, but it burned so good. You might never feel this stretch again. You sank a little further onto him and failed to stifle a closed-mouth moan, “mmm.”

The burn became a buzzing tingle.

The exhilaration became a hunger for more, and you slid down his shaft like a miracle.

Jesus Christ, you'd never felt so full of anything. Your whole body was spread around him, all of your guts forced out of the way.

You went further still down his cock, taking more than you imagined anyone could fit. By the time you bottomed out, the burn subsided into a feeling that you were gripping him. Spread thin and tight around him, he wore you on his cock. Your walls hugged his shaft, and it throbbed. It throbbed inside you.

You sat there, reveling in the fullness with your watering eyes scanning his torso and beautiful skin. You ran your thumb lightly over two bullet wounds just above his pec and felt him swell inside you.

Oh fuck, He swelled, he grew. Making you fuller than full. He throbbed and twitched, and nudged something in your depths that made you whispered out loud, “Oh, Fuck.”

Oh, God, the fullness was something to behold in its own right. You could have sat like that all day. but he had nudged something else inside you, something you needed to pursue.

And when you tilted your hips, his shaft nudged it again. Something that twitched, something that spasmed, something that had you ready to trip over another edge and freefall into bilss.

You slowly rolled your hips, not letting much if any length out of your cunt. Your insides clung to him right and merely shifted inside yourself, as though you were a fleshlight. That movement inside yourself made enough tension, friction, and pressure to make you chase more release. You moved your hips, barely going up and down on his cock, taking the pleasure you needed. You took and you took from him. Slowly, you had your way, until the pressure was building to uncontainable heights. Your breaths were shallow, and you could hardly take it. You took a deep breath and tilted your head toward the ceiling.

You closed your eyes and relaxed as best you could, with your entire body tense at the edge of your climax.

His dick twitched again, and you saw stars.

Your cunt tightened around his cock as pleasure spasmed through your core, bursting from your

solar plexus. “Oh god,” you breathed, you held both your breasts as you bottomed out again and came on his cock in a series of spasms that seemed to last a full minute. Your body was hugging his massive manhood, possessing it, possessing him. Your bodies were joined so tight, like you were one. Your energy faded as the orgasm rode on.

Your body leaned toward his, your tits pointy through your damp dress, poking against his chest. Your nose brushed his mask, inhaling latex, and then…. your lips found the perfectly sculpted, white rubber of his. You pressed a kiss onto the mask’s distinctive top lip and a different shock spread through your chest. You opened your eyes as you pulled back, and your fingers went to lightly brush your your own lips. Still spread around his cock, you trembed with an aftershock. And just as your climax was ending, a low rumble came from his chest.

His pecs flexed, his body tensed, and your heart jumped. You tried to slide off his cock, but his hips shifted and his cock grew again, making you whimper. Just as your body had grown to accept his size, there was more of him to hold. He throbbed and twitched and grunted. Metal jingled behind his back and at the floor board as you panicked. He growled and moaned, foreboding a seismic eruption in your womb. His hips lifted out of the seat, pushing you up, and if you weren't anchored by his girth you might have flown off and hit the ceiling

Like nothing you’d ever felt, his cock throbbed massively as it shot monster ropes of cum into you, spurting rapid fire, every twitch of the organ felt by your walls, by your cervix. Something snapped and let go in your depths, slick gushed around his cock, providing just the lube you needed to slide yourself up. But before you were off his shaft, the cuffs snapped, and his massive hands flew to your shoulders, broken chains dangling as he held you down on his cock.

He grunted as he filled you up with his seed. Time seemed to stop, but the flow of cum didn’t. It felt he was cumming for so long, but with it possibly being the last moment of your waking life, you were no longer in a hurry for it to end.

A new fullness bloomed in your depths, different than the fullness of his cock. Higher, more spread out. Pressure mounted in your lower belly. More and more pressure with each burst, each massive rope. And then his happy trail, pressed against your lower belly. It tickled your, and you looked down to a sight that made your clit twitch and put butterflies in your chest. His happy trail wasn’t pressing into you. Your belly was pressing into him. Your dress curved outward in a new shape. Not massive, but noticeable. You lifted your dress out of the way to see your belly bloated and round, filling out against his body as he stuffed you with his cum. The pressure was overwhelming. It didn’t feel bad, but the effect on your body scared you.

“No more,” you begged, then realized the bursts ad weakened and he’d already slowed to a trickle. “What’s happening?” You asked, voice shaky.

No reply, but his hands tightened into a bruising grip on your arms when you tried to move. His breath was deep and ragged.

He slowly tilted his head, then looked down at your exposed bloated belly. He moved his hands to your hips and the cool metal of the broken cuffs grazed your hot flesh. You looked down at yourself again, mesmerized. Maybe the shape was exaggerated in this position and might even put once you stood up. It couldn’t have been that much cum. You were embarrassed, worried, shocked, but also turned on. Very turned on.

Your nipples were so hard they were sore. Your breasts heaved under your dress, and the sight of them gave you another wave of humiliation and arousal. You couldn’t be completely certain, but your breasts seemed to look fuller. It could be in your head, you thought. You had gained a few pounds, you told yourself. This just happened to be the first time you noticed. But a different part of you knew some people thought Michael wasn’t human, that he was something from beyond. He was simply the shape of pure evil. His strength was superhuman, and you wondered if his semen might be, too. It terrified you and made you throb.

Your cunt now comfortably hugged his cock, which was no less stiff tha n it had been before he came. You couldn’t be sure if his swelling had gone down or if your body had again adjusted, more elastic than you ever thought possible. Or at least, you hoped it was elasticity. The idea that he could have stretched you beyond repair would be devastating. You might never be full again.

Michael’s hips began to rock under you, and he lifted you effortlessly, slid you up his shaft. He bounced you and wielded you up and down his dick, steadily ramping up the pace until the wind was nearly knocked out of you. It was clear he was using you as a cocksleeve. Fucking up into it as he jacked himself off with your body. It was just a warm, wet tunnel for his cock. Your thighs quivered and your breasts and belly bounced. He held you like a toy, head tilted down, yearning to see your swollen body swallow his unfathomable size, if his view weren’t obstructed by the aftermath of his load. Your insides pulsed with pleasure, you began to gush again, and a third orgasm caught you off guard. He growled as it choked his cock and then he slammed you down hard and erupted once again.

“No,” you pleaded, and held your tummy with both hands. “I can’t, it won’t fit.” He didn’t stop, and why should he? You did this. You put yourself on his cock, you took from him and he was continuing to give. There was barely any time between each rope. The steady pulse of his cock made you swell a little more, overfilling you. Your skin tightened to contain your swelling womb. It was a pleasant stretch and one you had earned. You held your belly and watched it slowly grow as the modest orb bounced with each lift of his hips.

When he was finished, He just sat there, then he lifted you off his cock and put you aside, making you stand next to the seat. He turned to face you, with his legs in the aisle, and his cum-coated cock still out. He lifted your dress and bent forward to look between your legs.

As your body drew itself back together, warm cum ran down your thighs. He huffed. You held your belly, expecting it to shrink. If it did, it was gradual.

Michael reached between his feet and used his hands to break the shackle. He tucked himself away, turned up his collar, and took your face in his hands. His thumb brushed your cheek, then he turned to leave. His boots thumped heavily down the aisle as he slowly exited the bus. He walked off into the rain and didn’t look back.

The drip of cum slowed with your womb still full. You sat on a seat and spread your legs wide, and used your fingers to pull more cum out of you. You were so stretched out that you could use four fingers with no trouble at all. You could have fit your whole hand in, and tried, but the effort of bending to get a good angle left you out of breath.

After scraping as much cum as you could out, you tried putting pressure on your belly. First with your hands, then by bending forward so it was against your thighs. The swelling went down a little, but you were still distended and beginning to cramp.

You tried with fingers again and found you had already tightened up at least a little again, to your relief. You stood up to stretch and caught your reflection in the window. You didn’t look quite as big as you imagined. Not full term, at least, but you probably looked five or six months pregnant. You walked to the front of the bus to look at yourself in the rearview mirror. Turning to the side, you held the fabric to the shape of your belly. It wasn't that bad. You could live with this, until the swelling went down. At least you didn't have to walk around gaping.

Don't be too sad that he walks away, I HC that he could come back or find reader again 💙

If you enjoyed this, I have a ghostface fic with a similar situation and parts 1, 2, and 3 are my top 3 most popular fics ever. Every Inch

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed it. Letting me know what you liked helps my future fics. 💙

#michael myers smut #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #cw noncon #cw somnophilia #slasher smut #dark fic #darkfic #michael myers #michael myers fanfiction #toxicanonymity ☠️#shaperil #x reader #smut #dilf!michael myers #michael audrey myers

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rafesproperty · 1 year ago

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Thinking about how Rafe would treat you each season…

Bro was tweakin’ the whole show 😭 Good luck with the mood swings

Also can you tell S2 Rafe is my fav and owns my entire heart? Ok? Ok.

» masterlist

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Season 1 Rafe treats you horribly. Never there for you even tho you are always there for him. Always thinking about himself.

He can be nice behind closed doors but the second you are with him and his friends he’s cold. He almost acts like you guys aren’t together but if one of his friends flirts with you he throws a tantrum. Also he gets mad when you don’t give him enough attention but he ignores your messages for days.

He snorts cocaine in front of you even tho it makes you uncomfortable… but he doesn’t really care as long as he gets his high. He asks to snort it from your thighs or cleavage as well. If you say no he’ll keep asking until you say yes just to shut him up.

If you’re being all annoying asking him to drive you home he’ll just smear some on your gums.

“Shit. Alright, c’me here baby,” he mumbles and you sit on his lap as he grabs a tiny bit of the powder and uses his fingers to open your mouth. “There you go, baby, good fuckin’ girl.” He chuckles and kisses you. You instantly melt into the kiss, feeling as if the drugs effect melts your body. You’re on top of him the entire night, cuddling up to him, straddling his lap, purring when he kisses you. You’re just so good to him, so devoted when you’re in this state.

He never lets you snort it tho. And he won’t do it again for a long time. He doesn’t want you to be addicted like him.

He calls you in the middle of the night and demands you come over when he’s in the mood. He’ll pick you up but won’t give you a ride home so you’re either staying or walking alone.

He yells Kiara looks hot at Midsummers when you’re right next to him. You’re angry at him but he doesn’t care.

Probably constantly breaking up and getting back together when he has one of his breakdowns and needs you. So he seeks you out. Cries to you about his dad. Cries to you about your relationship. Promises to do better. And you always take him back.

He takes you on motorbike dates, goes way over the speed limit tho.

You are there when his dad kicks him out, he takes his sadness and anger out on you. You are there when he kills the sheriff, and you’re not running away, not telling anyone, you’re keeping your mouth shut. For him. You do a lot of things for him.

Season 2 Rafe aka the most unhinged psycho you’ve ever met is actually nicer to you (worse to everyone else… but nicer to you). He keeps you safe. Never lets you walk alone at night. He basically never ever leaves your side, when he does it’s to do something he doesn’t want you to see.

He keeps you away from Ward and Barry - especially Barry. Until you actually meet Barry and find out he’s cool and funny asf. Rafe is pissed at first but Barry is the only guy he’ll let you hang out with (only in his presence, tho).

Barry starts calling you “Mrs. Country cluuuub.”

Never lets you do drugs again. Not even a little bit. He feels bad for what he did before, smearing it on your gums when you didn’t even really know what he was doing. He won’t admit it out loud, tho. He just won’t allow it again.

He needs to touch you constantly. Hand on your back or your thigh at all times. Holding you close to him. He needs to know feel you’re there.

He swears he’ll buy anything you damn want with the gold.

He still gets mad when he doesn’t get your attention but this time he’ll just take it. He’ll force you to give him attention if he has to. Sometimes he’ll rile you up and piss you off just so that he’s your main focus.

He seeks you out for comfort when he comes to your house all bloody and beaten… whether the blood is his or not is a mystery. He’ll open up to you, he’ll talk about his dad and you’ll comfort him with sweet words, he gets so used to it. Addicted. His dad never listened to him. No one ever listened to him. But you do. He may be in love with you.

He’s possessive. Won’t let you talk to other people, will break anyones bones if they look at you the wrong way. You’re his. And he’s slowly starting to realise that he is yours, too.

“I’ll take care of you. Shit, I’ll fuck up anyone who tries to hurt you, got that?”

He’s harsh about everything he doesn’t like and especially to people he doesn’t like. You better not get in the way when he’s really angry.

He hates it when he makes you cry, but if he’s already pissed off he can’t stop himself from yelling. He never hurt you tho. Maybe a few bruises from gripping your wrist with too much force but nothing intentional.

His eyes soften when you flinch one time. That being the only time he actually somewhat calms down.

Not many peaceful moments with him given how little chill he had in S2 😭 BUT if you guys are just talking, playing with eachothers fingers in the dark and you start talking about your future he melts. You always include him. In all the details and in all the plans. He loves you. He’s sure of it now.

Wheezie absolutely adores you, she gossips about Rafe with you all the time. You guys play board games and he’ll scoff and roll his eyes but Wheezie will force him to join. For 5 minutes. Then he’s like “Fuck this bullshit” (he’s losing) and he leaves. You and Wheezie laugh at him.

He tells you everything, he tells you about how he shot Sarah, how he tried to drown her, how he almost killed Pope, how he hates these fucking Pogues so much and wants them all dead… he’s never saying it calmly, his pupils are dilated, he’s shaking, his words are mixing, he has this look on his face… sometimes he’s so scary. But you never run away from him.

His obsession with making his dad proud slowly turns into an obsession to make you proud. To make you happy. To make sure the gold is fucking yours and anyone who tries to take anything away from you two dies.

I seriously can’t stress enough how Rafe is always obsessed with one person only and does absolutely everything in the world for them. And his focus changes from his dad to you. You’re his priority now. He’ll protect you, not his dad. He’ll make you proud, not his dad. You. You. You.

Season 3 Rafe is an obsessed man. Spoils you. Takes you on fancy dates all the time. Gets you anything you like or anything he likes.

Gets you hot dresses that he’ll rip the same day. You’re actually angry because you liked that dress so he’ll just buy it again.

He doesn’t really know how to express his emotions so he’ll just constantly buy you expensive things just because he can and he’ll keep you close, cuddle you, kiss you, squeeze your waist. Physical contact all the time, basically.

You don’t really fight anymore. But if he does make you angry you’ll wake up to princess treatment the whole day. Food, clothes, jewelry, his attention, anything you want, you got it.

“Can we get a dog?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

… almost anything you want.

You are his priority, always. Always focused on making you secure, safe, happy, proud, satisfied. You don’t have to ask for anything, ever. He’s got you.

Constantly shielding you with his body when you two go out, keeping you close, thumb drawing little circles on your back, his attention on you the entire time.

He’ll take you on boat drives and just chill and make out with you out on the open ocean.

He’s so madly in love with you.

He’s loyal, pushing other people away from him, and he expects the same from you… tho you usually don’t even get the chance to. He’s scaring anyone away the second they look at you.

He doesn’t care about Ward anymore, all he sees is his pretty girl who’s been with him the whole time, through everything. His girl. That didn’t push him away when he was on his lowest. His girl, who didn’t run away from him when he killed people. His girl who makes him feel so warm and fuzzy it actually keeps surprising him.

He wants to marry you, give you everything he has, pay you back for always having his back.

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ubeb0nes · 7 months ago

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Things Sevika says as your lover…

❧ ❧ ❧

Let me do it. / I'll handle it. / Don't worry, I'll take care of it.

She wants to take care of you so, so bad. Whether that's opening every door and pulling out every chair for you, or wiping someone off the face of the earth in your name.

She's in her element when she's of service. Deep down, she thinks that as long as she proves useful then your continued affection is almost guaranteed.

Can't do that anymore, my woman/partner said so. / Wrap this up. I gotta get home to them.

She is yours, no ifs or buts about it. And she makes sure everyone knows how fiercely loyal she is, she will not be doing anything to disrespect your boundaries or your relationship.

Obviously her work and her abrasive nature will put a natural strain on some parts of your relationship, but she's never intentionally causing you distress. Loyalty's her most important personal value, and you have the most of hers.

No, get behind me! / I said stay here. / I need you safe, understand?

You're a culmination of everything she's fighting for. All the beauty of Zaun, her reason for sticking her heart in this city, you are all of that personified. So you can't die. You can't get hurt.

If she has to lock you in the house to keep you from following her into a death mission, she will. You'll understand. She's always taken a beating for the ones she loves, the role thrust upon her that she now clings to like a hardy mask.

Stand down. / Down, baby. / I don't care if you don't like it, follow orders.

If you follow her into combat, good luck with getting bossed around like crazy. She always keeps you in her line of sight, preferably also within three feet of you so she can jump in front of you to sacrifice another limb if need be.

She's also absolutely zero nonense while working. She isn't flirting with you or showing vulnerability in front of her crew, but she is relishing in getting to tell you what to do (and she expects you to heed immediately).

'S all for you, doll… / Mm-mm, you're not getting up… / Pretty thing… so warm… love you so much…

She only ever talks like this when she's sleepy, or just waking up. She doesn't say I love you much (outside of when she's leaving for work), as to her, it takes away from the weight of it (WRONG imo, but in character i think lol).

The sweetest sweetheart ever when she's all wrapped up in your arms. Her voice is even lower in the mornings, with a distinct gravel to her tone. She uses it to her advantage, whispering such sweet things in your ear as she "subtly" traps you in her arms to keep you in bed.

She keeps repeating the same things over and over again, praising you and professing her love like there's no tomorrow. Her favorite love language switches to words of affirmation while she's drowsy lol.

So good to me, god you keep me sane. / I'm gonna fuckin' give you everything… / You smell so good, I could eat you (she then does actually try to bite you and you scream and push her off the bed)

Nsfw under the cuttt~

Uh uh, don't run from me. / Stop moving. / You're gonna take it either way, don't whine.

One of your favorite games is to see how long you can hold out being a brat (i.e., closing your legs every time she spreads them, shifting your hips away, etc.) before you make her snap and she just manhandles you.

Her displays of strength are usually subtle, like lifting you steadily off the floor and laying you down slowly on the bed without struggle. But when you do finally get her to snap, she's flipping you over on the bed like a pancake, and holding you up against the wall with just her human arm as she fucks you. She barely breaks a sweat holding you down on the bed, no matter how strong or how determined your bratty ass may be.

I'm never fuckin' sharing you, baby. / Look at me. Don't look away, those are *my* pretty eyes, I wanna see them. / Is that good, doll? Whose making you feel good? Mhm, and don't forget it…

Chances are that you end up being the jealous one in your relationship rather than her. But she is extremely possessive. When she gets especially in a mood, she's intent upon fucking you until your brain melts and you're nothing but putty in her hands, obsessed with her.

She reminds you how good she makes you feel, and how she's the only one that can fuck you that way. You're always extra cuddly and touchy in the days following, and she loves it because she knows it means she's stuck on your mind.

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #sevika headcanon #ubebones writing

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flowergirl1243 · 1 month ago

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soft launch season - [part four]

SUMMARY: when Lando Norris' notorious party boy reputation may be too far out of control to save, you step in to save his image (and maybe his heart).

PAIRING: lando norris x fem!reader

part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven

ACT 4: GRID SHOW

Liked by lando, oscarpiastri and others ynusername first grand prix, kinda nervy

lando didn’t know spectators could make the drivers more nervous than the track tbh

user22 her debut. their debut. our debut.

user23 what is life. i may have passed away

They found a corner.

Not a glamorous one. Just a sliver of shade behind the motorhome, out of sight from cameras and engineers and the constant hum of nerves. The sun was already high, bouncing off the asphalt, casting sharp lines across the ground. The sound of zippers, tools clinking, voices through radios, all of it was beginning to rise around them like pressure.

But here?

Here it was still quiet.

Lando stood in front of her, half-dressed in his fireproofs, race suit peeled down to his waist. He smelled like sunblock and heat. His hair was still damp from the ice towel they’d thrown at him earlier. She reached out and fixed the collar of his base layer, even though it didn’t need fixing.

“You good?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. You?”

He gave her a look, boyish, crooked, transparent. “Lying.”

She smiled. “Okay, a little nervy.”

He leaned in, pressed his forehead against hers.

“I’m the one strapping into a car that could turn me into a crumpled soda can,” he whispered. “You don’t get to be more nervous than me.”

Her hands stayed by her sides, like she didn’t want to make a scene, even here. But he didn’t care.

He brushed his nose against hers. Breathed her in.

This close, she smelled like summer and and that hotel shampoo she always complained about and everything right in life. He didn’t want to step away. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“Be safe, okay?”

“I always am.”

“You’re not, though.”

He smiled, a real one this time. Tired and a little fragile.

“I will be today,” he said. “You’re here.”

She didn’t kiss him. Didn’t need to.

Just held his gaze for a second longer than anyone else ever did. And then let him go.

He turned away first, but only after she squeezed his hand.

Then let go, slowly, like it hurt, and walked away.

But he didn’t stop feeling her, not for the rest of the day.

She didn’t scream when he crossed the finish line.

Everyone else did, the garage erupted, people grabbing each other, radios blaring, team gear flying into the air, but she just stood there, hands to her mouth, eyes wide, frozen like her heart couldn’t catch up with what just happened.

He won.

He actually won.

The final lap had felt like a dream. Like something too fragile to touch. The way he held off the Ferrari, the precision of every corner, every braking zone, she’d never seen him like that. Sharp. Focused. Ruthless. Untouchable.

And then the radio crackled in the background, Lando’s voice hoarse and disbelieving:

“Monaco, baby!”

“P1, mate. That’s a win. That’s a win.”

It hit her all at once. The noise, the relief, the tears she hadn’t even realised were welling up in her eyes. Her fingers were shaking. Her throat ached.

People were yelling, hugging, climbing the pit wall.

And then, through it all, she saw him, helmet in one hand, suit half unzipped, running.

Not walking.

Not smiling for the cameras.

Running. Straight past every mic and mechanic, eyes scanning the crowd like he couldn’t breathe until he found her.

And then he did.

He didn’t slow down. Just pulled her into his arms with a desperate kind of urgency, like he was trying to hold onto something real before it slipped away.

His body was warm against hers, solid and steady, grounding him. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, thudding like a drum beneath her hand.

His forehead dropped to her temple, breath ragged and uneven.

“You’re my luck,” he whispered, voice thick. “I needed you here."

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice low and trembling just a little.

She looked up, searching his eyes as if she was measuring the truth behind the question.

“Yes,” she breathed.

His hands moved gently, one slid from her waist up to cup the back of her neck, fingers threading into the loose strands of hair there. The other settled on her hip, steady and grounding.

He leaned in slowly, letting the moment stretch between them, the noise of the crowd fading to a dull hum.

Their lips met, soft, tentative at first, before the quiet urgency beneath it pulled them closer. His touch was careful but certain, his hands holding her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

When they finally parted, his forehead stayed pressed against hers, breath mingling.

No words were needed. Everything they hadn’t said was there, in the lingering warmth of his hands, the steady beat of their hearts, and the way they fit together like something real finally taking shape.

Liked by mclaren, maxverstappen1 and others lando monaco 📷

ynusername there's no peace like you 🤍

user24 they're GONE. they are in LOVE.

user25 i need what they have desperately

The city outside was quiet now. Monaco’s usual hum of traffic and distant laughter had faded into soft whispers carried by the cool night breeze. Inside his apartment, the low light cast golden pools across the room, softening the edges of everything.

She was curled up on the couch, wrapped in one of his oversized hoodies, the one with the faint smell of leather and motor oil that somehow smelled like home. The sleeves swallowed her hands, and she kept pulling them tighter around her fingers, like holding onto the fabric might hold back all the noise and chaos of the day.

He stood in the kitchen, absently stirring his tea, but his eyes never left her. The way she sat there, small and a little vulnerable, made his chest tighten with something he wasn’t ready to name.

He took a slow, deliberate step toward the couch, the quiet creak of his shoes barely noticeable, but in this stillness, it felt like thunder.

Sitting down beside her, he let his shoulder brush against hers. The contact was small, but it made her still. His fingers twitched, almost like they wanted to reach out but were waiting for permission.

When he finally did, his hand slid over hers, thumb brushing her knuckles softly. She didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers curled around his, tentative at first, then firmer, as if she was afraid to let go.

“You were incredible today,” she said, voice soft, almost a whisper, like she was telling a secret just to him.

He chuckled quietly, the sound low and warm. “I only raced hard because I wanted you to see it.”

Her eyes met his, wide and shimmering in the soft light. “I saw everything. You were...unstoppable.”

The way she looked at him, like he was the only thing she’d been waiting for, made his throat tighten. He shifted just enough to wrap an arm around her, pulling her a little closer without breaking the fragile calm.

She leaned into him, her head resting lightly against his chest, breath warm and steady. He could feel the rise and fall of her breathing, a quiet rhythm that somehow slowed the pounding of his own heart.

For a while, they sat like that, wrapped in the kind of silence that didn’t need filling. The soft glow of the lamp, the faint scent of her shampoo mixed with the leather on his jacket, the comforting weight of her body against his, all of it made everything else fade away.

She lifted her head just enough to look up at him, eyes full of something that made his heart catch.

“Stay with me,” she whispered.

He didn’t hesitate. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb tracing the line of her jaw with infinite care.

“Always,” he said, voice low and sure.

He leaned down slowly, brushing his forehead against hers, savoring the small heat between them. His fingers tangled in her hair, gentle and possessive, holding her close as their lips met in a kiss that was soft but full of everything they hadn’t said yet, hope, fear, promise, and something dangerously like love.

When they finally parted, they stayed close, foreheads touching, breaths mingling in the quiet night.

And in that stillness, surrounded by the calm after the storm, they found a kind of peace neither had been expecting, but both desperately needed.

I actually can't, I had to redo this at least ten times. But anything for the grind. Essentially, I never sleep! Anyways, as always, let me know if you have suggestions or requests for anything else! Also, if you want to join the taglist, as well!!

taglist

@sol3chu, @charlesgirl16, @motorsp0rt, @imdyinghelpplease, @vampgege, @angeltroian, @ceekokocee15, @esw1012, @charlottes-ngvot, @janonymus0

#lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 mcl #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 #formula 1

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wttcsms · 2 years ago

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i'll pretend you'll stay forever ; kento nanami.

pairing kento nanami x f!reader word count 2.4k synopsis no one knows that the bodyguard for the prime minister's daughter fucks her on a daily basis. content contains bodyguard!nanami x prime minister's daughter!reader, big, beefy, strong nanami hehe, creampie, slight brat taming, pet names (baby, good girl, bad girl), cockwarming, dom!nanami, hair pulling, car sex, nanami makes you call him sir author's notes s2 was animated for the nanami girlies

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

Granted, he’s been practically bred for the position. Born and raised by a mother and father who also dealt in espionage, sent to boarding schools that would feed him directly to The Academy, constantly being reminded of his purpose. Agent Nanami serves as one of the Prime Minister’s most trusted secret operatives. A select few who are given the most sensitive assignments.

“K-Kento — too much,” your shaky whines sound even louder than they actually are, emphasized by the silence in his car.

Sensitive — yes, that’s what you are.

“You can take it.” He tells you, gently stroking your cheek. His calloused thumb wipes away a stray tear, and he takes you in. You’re still tearing up, your lashes slick, and you’re pouting at him. You’re always pouting, probably because growing up, you’ve never been told no. It’s not required according to his assignment file (most of what Nanami has been doing with you has decidedly been not required), but Nanami’s been trying hard to give you lessons that will have you behaving politely and like a good girl rather than the spoiled brat you actually are.

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

When he’s told that he is to be the primary bodyguard for the Prime Minister’s daughter, he accepts it without hesitation. Everyone else has had no luck with you, and you certainly don’t seem to be bothered by that fact. You’re in college now, and you want nothing more than to skip lectures and go to parties, both of which is rather difficult when you have a bodyguard watching your every move and reporting directly to your father.

Nanami goes about his assignment in a different way. There’s another bodyguard, one who is also watching you, but young Itadori cannot possibly go about protecting the Prime Minister’s most beloved daughter safe all by himself. He’s barely graduated from the Academy.

Besides, you automatically dislike any of the guards assigned to you. Itadori is a nice, young man, and in different circumstances, everyone is certain that you would have enjoyed his company. The fact that his job is to protect you seems to be his only fatal flaw in your eyes.

Nanami is no stranger to undercover work, and so posing as a final year doctoral candidate at the university you’re attending is an easy cover. Setting up the perfect chain of events that leads to you specifically choosing him to be your economics tutor was also an easy enough task.

And somewhere along the lines, you got this idea inside of your pretty, little head that you’re just the smartest, sneakiest girl around. You think you’re evading Itadori’s watchful eyes, taking advantage of his rookie status even though he’s always aware you’re “sneaking off” to meet with Nanami. You think you’re finally rebelling against your father’s strict instructions to stay out of trouble.

And while Nanami does ensure that you keep out of trouble, he’s not sure if your father will approve with how he’s keeping you so obedient.

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

You’re not the first brat that he’s had to train, but you’re proving to be quite the star student. You hold back any more whining complaints, and instead, you’re straddling his lap like the good girl he knows you can be, his thick cock fitting snugly inside your pussy.

Both of your hands are clutching onto his broad shoulders, your pretty, manicured nails digging into the stiff cotton of his blue button-up. His mind doesn’t register the sting of your nails practically sinking into his skin. All he can focus on is what a pretty, dazed little mess you are.

“See?” He coos, sounding not the least bit condescending. The warmth of his baritone, the reassuring strokes on your cheek — Nanami is a gentleman. You practically beam with pride as he tells you, “I told you you could take it. Such a good girl.”

You still haven’t moved yet, and Nanami whispers more words of praise for you. It only took two weeks of training to get you to understand that you can beg for his touch, his attention, his cock, all you want, but he gives it all to you under his terms and conditions. He knows you want some friction, knows that you need it so badly because why else are your walls clenching down so heavily on his length? You’re being so patient with him that he feels himself getting impossibly harder at the thought of your perfect behavior.

“You want to ride me, baby?” The question comes out as a throaty whisper, the clear desire he has for you evident in his rough tone.

You nod eagerly, damn near salivating at the thought of finally being able to take what you want.

“Use your words.” He demands, moving his hand to caress your face once more before letting his thumb toy with your bottom lip.

“Yes,” you whimper out, trying your hardest to resist the temptation to start moving, to have the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls, in and out, in and out.

His eyes narrow, and his cold demeanor is enough to keep you frozen in place. Oh, you’ve upset him.

“You were being such a good girl, too.” He shakes his head in disappointment. “When you answer me, what are you supposed to say?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“And if you knew this, why didn’t you say it the first time?” The way he snaps at you shouldn’t give your tummy butterflies, but it does. Nanami is far kinder and gentler than he lets on, and it’s why you enjoy it when he takes on such a demanding role when it’s just the two of you. No one can handle your attitude as well as Nanami, and that’s precisely why you’re warming his cock right now, walls tightening around him with every stern scolding that leaves his mouth.

“You can’t answer me?” The sharpness of his tone turns you demure, making you turn your head down and away from him, refusing to answer or look at him, and he frowns at that. You feel him wrapping your hair around his hand, and the movements are soft, slow, gentle at first—

—and with speed and dexterity that shouldn’t belong to a mere student, he’s yanking you by your hair, forcing you to snap your head up and look him in his cold eyes.

“You were behaving so well earlier.” He feigns disappointment, but the hungry glint in his eyes tells you that he’s been looking forward to whatever punishment he has in store for you. “What a shame. I was going to let you have me however you wanted, let you take control for once.” He leans down, whispering in your ear. “Instead, it looks like I get to fuck you like the bad girl you really are, hm?”

Before you can protest, apologize, beg for mercy, he takes his free hand to grip your waist, strong enough to lift you slightly off of him, only to slam you back down on his dick.

You let out a strangled cry at the sudden intrusion. It’s one thing to have him sink into you inch by inch; it’s another thing entirely to have him practically impale you with his dick.

His thrusts are rough, hard, unforgiving. Never sloppy, though — Nanami’s much too meticulous to reduce himself to a wild animal, even though he’s fucking you so hard, you can’t tell if he hates your guts or just wants to rearrange them.

His hand is still tangled in your hair, and he pulls some more, forces your neck to arch up. He leans in, licking at the soft skin of your neck before nipping at the skin, hard enough to leave a mark you’ll need to cover up with a turtleneck because no amount of concealer can save you now.

You mewl in pain at the sensation, but it’s obvious you love it. You’re dripping all over his dick, forcing wet, squelching sounds to fill the car every time he moves inside of you. You should be ashamed — would be ashamed — if only the overwhelming pleasure didn’t leave your mind shrouded in a hazy mist of lust and rapture. The pinpricks of pain from how he’s pulling your hair and from the fresh lovebites marking your flesh should hurt more, but you’re too lost in the way his cock is filling you up.

“Look at that.” Nanami growls, untangling his hand from your hair in favor of putting his fingers to better use: stroking your clit. “You’re fucking soaked.” You look down as he commands, and your eyes widen in surprise, even though it shouldn’t come as such a shock to you. The front of his trousers is absolutely drenched with your juices, and your clit practically glistens in the faint moonlight that sneaks past the tint of his car. “Is this why you like to be a bad girl? Because you like getting fucked like a fleshlight, is that it?”

You want to shake your head no. You want to tell him that you are good, that you’re not a bad girl. But the stimulation on your clit, his harsh words, the way his cock is repeatedly hitting that special spot of yours — it’s all too much for you to handle.

“I want to treat you so well, baby. I want to spoil you, give you everything, but you make it so — fucking — difficult.” He speaks through clenched teeth, the warmth and ecstasy of being buried in your sweet pussy slowly chipping away at his resolve. The last three words of his sentence have all been punctuated by a particularly brutal thrust, and you’re certain that by the end of this, your cunt will keep the shape of his cock forever.

“I’m sorry!” You scream out, tears flowing freely down your cheeks now. The pleasure is mind-numbing, earth-shattering, reality-altering. Neither of you know what you’re apologizing for. Is it for being a bad girl when all Nanami wants is for you to behave so he can bring you the world at your feet? Is it for the wet mess you’re making all over his nice clothes and cock? Or is it for the fact that you’re breaking a cardinal rule, one that he will be most displeased by?

Maybe it’s all of the above, but if you had to pick, the apology would be for the fact that you’re cumming without permission. Your conscious mind is aware that Nanami is not going to be very happy with you, but this climax has you seeing stars. You can’t find it in yourself to worry about future consequences when you’re losing yourself in the throes of passion and pleasure. You’re drenching his cock in your cum, seeing stars, and reduced to feeling like a boneless mess. You slump against his strong chest, eyes struggling to remain open as you rest your head on one of his big, broad shoulders.

The punishment doesn’t come immediately — it rarely ever does. Nanami bides his time and doles out his punishments when you least expect it. He does it to keep you on edge, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you.

Instead, he lets you rest against him, reduced to nothing more than a little, fucked-out mess. You feel a rumble from his chest, a series of grunts and curses leaving his mouth as the bucking of his hips is done so harshly, you’re certain that you’re going to be bruised everywhere, from the soft flesh of your thighs to your poor cervix. A few more thrusts and Nanami is certain that he is planted as deep as he could go, the tip of his cock hitting you at your most sensitive spot.

You feel him bury his face into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo and the lingering aroma of sex and sweat. His cock throbs in sporadic bursts, and you hear him grunt out your name like a broken prayer.

He cums, unloading a hot, heavy load directly inside of you, flooding you. You think you forget how to breathe, and all you can do is just take it, take all of him.

The warm sensation has you moaning softly; the feeling of him completely dominating your senses, your body, you, has you wanting him to never let you go, to never leave. You tighten your core, trying to squeeze more of his cum into you as he lets out little groans of pleasure from above you. You love reducing him to a moaning mess, reducing him to this sex-dazed state whenever he lets go because of you.

You don’t think you’re capable of speech, throat raw from your previous screams of pleasure, but you find that you don’t have to speak to let Nanami know what you want. As you lift your head from his shoulder, relishing in the sight of Nanami with his head leaned back, cheeks flushed from the exertion of giving you the best dick of your life, he opens his eyes to meet yours. Leaning down, he captures your lips and gives you a messy, sloppy kiss that is so unbecoming and out of character for him.

The makeout session lasts until your eyes feel droopy and you’re not responding anymore. Nanami just looks down at you with a fondness that he hasn’t felt for anyone else in a while. You’re all tuckered out, and you’re breathing softly and slowly, lost to the world of dreaming. He’s a bit exhausted, too. He should pull you off his cock and buckle you back safely in the passenger seat, but he sees a small trail of his cum dribbling out of your overstuffed pussy and he figures it’s less of a mess if he just keeps you nice and plugged up for the time being.

Before he can close his eyes and join you, the crackle of his telecom planted in his watch comes to life. The static doesn’t do much to alter Itadori’s voice.

“Y1 to K1, this is Y1 requesting status of the Princess. Over.”

The “Princess” is currently dozing peacefully with his cum settling in her cunt. Nanami thinks that’s too crude to relay over the comms, though.

“K1 to Y1, Princess is secured. Over.”

#smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #jjk smut #one shot #drabble #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #imagine #kinktober 2023

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mymegrokosmos · 2 months ago

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bf seventeen being your excuse to leave the party.

scoups - all it takes is one look. you lock eyes with your boyfriend from across the room and he's immediately saying his goodbyes. he's quick to pat shua's arm and lean in to tell jeonghan goodnight right in the other man's ear before making his way back through the crowd towards you. you don’t have to say the words, your boyfriend can read you like a book. there doesn't even need to be a reason, if you say you want to leave he isn’t asking questions. not until you’re home and wrapped securely in his arms. seungcheol is just slipping an arm around your waist and waving to your friends, stating that you're taking him home for the night. he's happy to take the blame if it makes you more comfortable and avoids any awkwardness or tension with anyone. it makes him feel like he's protecting you and being useful which he loves (let the man feel needed). will pout and feign being tipsy if anyone questions him. he's so cute they just let him get away with it so they don't have to endure any whining.

jeonghan - the king of distractions. all you have to do is lean in and whisper that you're ready to leave and he's planning an elaborate escape. give him ten minutes to find a way to convince everyone he's drunk, feeling sick or to make up some other plausible excuse and start playing it up. no one asks any questions as you escort your boyfriend out to the car. in fact, most of them wish you good luck and offer to help you bear the weight of a dramatic jeonghan who has gone all out in his acting. they'd rather know less. it works flawlessly every time, giving him an excuse to bicker with his friends while you take none of the heat or attention (except in private, he will tease you about it for weeks whenever he's sure that you’re both alone bc you're adorable when you're angry and you can never stay mad at him).

joshua - teases you at first until he realizes you're serious. when you've hit your limit for the night or are just ready to call it quits he's there with an arm around your shoulders to act as a buffer from the overstimulation around you and a quick joke to divert everyone's attention. he throws around his charming smile and says something like he’s tired and you’re humouring him. no one blinks at his dramatic yawn or the way he clings to you pretending to be sleepy as you take your leave. he will use this as an excuse to be clingy when you get home but he's too cute to be annoyed at about it and too good at making your exit so seamless than no one bats an eye no matter how early you might have left bc well that's just shua. he will get louder and more dramatic the more they delay him so to avoid a scene (and a headache) your friends just wave or pull you into goodbye hugs and tell you to get home safe.

hoshi - whines and complains about how he’s tired, or plays up his drunkenness until your friends are practically begging you to take him home. they just want peace and quiet and to not have someone trying to kiss them every time they turn around. he's such a lightweight that no one finds this even remotely suspicious it's just soonyoung being soonyoung. and honestly sometimes you are genuinely dragging his drunk ass home. his friends have piggy backed him or helped you get him to the car enough to know it’s true. you may have to bribe him with a little affection but at the end of the day he just wants you to be comfortable and he'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're happy. plus any excuse to be extra clingy with you and he is all over it no questions asked grinning like an idiot about how lucky he is. he probably rambles all the way home and ykw you're not even mad ab it bc he’s so endearing.

jun - more than happy to redirect all the attention (and any teasing) his way. he doesn't even have to try to hold everyone's full attention. will whine and bury his face in your neck like you can save him when really he's smiling against your skin bc no one is bothering you ab leaving. makes it easy to take his hand and tug him out of there. no one really even processes you being the one to lead him out unless they're commenting that he's whipped and frankly that doesn't bother him bc yes he is what are they going to do ab it? is smiling the whole way home and asking you how he did the second you're in the front door.

wonwoo - king of the quiet exit. he doesn't even bother saying goodbye unless someone notices, lacing your fingers and leading you out without a word. he stays close to make sure you don't get lost and bc he can see the way to the door over any crowds. presses a kiss to your temple and effortlessly helps you navigate through any busy areas, one hand on the small of your back or resting on your elbow as he steers you around obstacles you haven’t noticed. his height and the bored expression on his face working as a shield so no one really approaches you. he'll text the gc when you're in the car so they know you’re both alive but he's more concerned ab getting you home safely and making sure you're not uncomfortable first.

woozi - is frankly thrilled to have you agree that it is time to get out of there. no one even questions that it was totally his decision or tries to wheedle you into staying longer bc they know once jihoon makes up his mind he's not changing it. everyone waves their goodbyes as your boyfriend holds onto your hand all the way to the car. he is not risking losing you in the crowd or having someone distract you with a conversation that will mean he has to stick around bc he will wait for you. lets be real this man is tired and his social battery is running low at all times the minute you suggest leaving he's mentally out the door already and he will insist on getting an uber so you can be backseat princesses the entire ride back together (he will be on his phone or napping but yk).

dk - nods and checks that you're okay, that you don't need anything else too, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you to get your things. he's not letting you go. will drape his jacket around your shoulders and keep you close as he says his goodbyes to your friends. if anyone asks he'll pull out his best acting skills, say he's tired and make a joke or ten until everyone forgets what he said anyway bc they're too busy laughing or complaining that he's so cheesy. he's yapping the whole way back to the car and probably the entire ride home. he's just happy to get you to himself bc as much as he loves his friends it's not the same. you're definitely stopping for a midnight snack on the way back.

mingyu - throwing you over his shoulder and leaving without any delay. his friends will figure out that he left and if he runs into anyone on the way out they can relay the message. when they ask where he went he's pulling a you looked too good in that outfit and he's impatient. they're well aware of his pathetic horny bastard ways and will accept this answer at face value. somehow despite being mentioned you never end up taking any of the heat but your boyfriend is going to get teased about this for months. it's worth it but he will be pouting to you. at least he's tall enough to see the exit and big enough to make the crowd move out of his way so there's no getting stuck halfway to the door. he will insist on staying stuck to your side or holding your hand the entire way home and whine ab how you hate him if you let go.

minghao - you give this man a look that says you're done for the night and suddenly he's decided everyone is too loud and he needs his beauty sleep. you're coming along no room for negotiation his friends can find their own y/n he is gatekeeping you all to himself for the rest of the evening. he's made up his mind. he holds your hand as he walks you out, muttering the whole way bc god forbid he forgets to let his friends know (lovingly) that they're annoying and draining his social battery. hao always wants to go home so no one is surprised ab his choice to leave early. will whine ab his day when you get home and ykw he deserves to have his drama queen time flopped back on your bed while you get unready.

seungkwan - will take a little convincing bc he does love his social time but give the man doe eyes and he's tripping over himself to make excuses to get you home immediately. will start a fight with anyone he has to (verbally at least) just to have a reason to leave all disgruntled, grabbing your hand and dragging you out with him. he's only a little annoyed, pacify him with a little snack on the walk back to your shared apartment and he'll be back to his happy chatty self in no time. if he's tipsy he is going to cling, just let him. never letting you live it down but will only tease you ab it when your friends aren't around. mostly enjoys annoying you bc you're cute when you roll your eyes at him and he usually gets some kind of kisses out of it in the end. secretly loves being your knight in shining armour and is happy you rely on him.

vernon - plays it cool. doesn't make any excuses. he just takes your hand, says goodnight and starts leading you out. he doesn't offer any explanation. if anyone asks if you're leaving he just says yes, gives them a handshake or one of those one armed bro hugs and says he'll see them around. no one pushes it bc, well, that's just hansol. everyone assumes he's the one who tapped out for the night. as a reward he gets to lay his head on your lap or stomach or if he's lucky you'll let him use your tits as a pillow and play with his hair until he falls asleep so he doesn’t even really care about any teasing that might result. it never lasts long anyway bc he doesn't give his friends a satisfying enough reaction. will make you watch cat videos with him while you lay together decompressing before getting unready.

dino - is taking this so seriously. mission impossible who? immediately putting on his best tired maknae act and playing up his annoyance with all his hyungs. whines, pouts, argues and sighs until your friends all but shove him your way and beg you to make him shut up. pulls you into his side and slips an arm around your waist, laying his act on thick but grinning inside at the way you roll your eyes as you promise to take him home. will cling to your hand or arm as you leave, complaining loudly the whole way out to make sure your friends can hear him. the moment you're outside he's turning to you with those big boba eyes and asking you how he did, making sure you're okay, and wrapping you in his sweater or jacket. practically skips the entire way home if you say he did a good job, smile at him, or show him any crumb of affection.

#seventeen #svt #svt drabbles #boyfriend #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #drabble #bf seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen x reader

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