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theemporium · 8 months

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The Monaco Grand Prix had been a fucking trainwreck.

It was meant to be their weekend. They had been doing so well all weekend. They had been topping the practice sessions. They had been putting in fast laps every session. They had managed to secure the front row after qualifying.

They had done everything right, and yet it still wasn’t enough because Ferrari fucked everything up in the way they always did.

Between unnecessarily long and unprepared pit stops to bad strategy calls that left them fighting other cars in old, used tires, it was a fucking shit show and the boys just wanted the race to be over so they could forget about it. They wanted to cross the line and get unnecessarily drunk until the race was nothing but a blip in their memory.

And that was the plan for the night when they arrived at the club, until they saw you.

Your relationship with the Ferrari drivers wasn’t exactly conventional nor easy to explain. You don’t even know how you could explain it to someone, because to an outsider looking in, it seemed anything but equal and fair.

It started long before either boy really joined Ferrari.

When Carlos Sainz drove for Torro Rosso and you were joining your father around the world, it was easy to cross paths with the Spaniard. Nothing ever happened, but you were on Carlos’ radar and that was more than enough. Then Charles entered the picture. And years passed without a single thought in your head about ever acting on the attraction for either driver because they became the enemy.

To the world, you were the Red Bull princess. You were Christian Horner’s pride and joy. You were the face of one of the only pure and innocent things at Red Bull, and nothing could tarnish that image.

Nothing except the Ferrari boys.

The two men that were your father’s biggest rivals. The two men that seemed to have you wrapped around their finger long before you could even realise it. The two men that seemed to awaken a fire inside you that you didn’t think existed, and now you never wanted to extinguish it.

The two men that had trained the perfect, little Red Bull princess into their perfect, little whore.

And now, in a small and exclusive club in the heart of Monaco, you were just in reach. You were standing beside Max, his arm thrown over your shoulder, as you both laughed and celebrated and drank happily at the expense of both Ferrari boys.

And something in them snapped.

You were at least three drinks in, lost in the crowd as you aimlessly danced to whatever song was being pumped through the speakers when you felt their presence. You barely had a chance to open your eyes before you felt a warm and familiar chest settle behind you, hands on your waist that were gripping the fabric of your short dress.

“You seem happy, cherie,” Charles grumbled, lips brushing against your ear as he pulled you back into him. “Far too fucking happy.”

“Charles,” you murmured breathlessly, leaning into his embrace like it was instinctive.

“Maybe you like laughing at our expense,” a second voice spoke, and you didn’t even have time to turn your head on your own before you felt fingers digging into your cheeks, turning you to face Carlos who stood in front of you.

You shook your head. “I wasn’t—”

“You didn’t even come to see us, amor,” Carlos grumbled, his voice so clear to you despite the noisy environment of the club around you. “Too busy celebrating with Daddy’s favourite?”

“I just didn’t know—” you started, only to let out a small whimper when Carlos’ fingers slipped past your lips, two digits laying heavy on your tongue as you gently sucked.

“You’re ours, amor,” he murmured, his hooded eyes focused on the way your pretty painted lips wrapped around his fingers. “Ours to do whatever we want with, right?”

You whined, nodding.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Carlos continued, shaking his head like he was scolding you. “You should have been waiting for us. You should have been on your fucking knees and instead you were running around with Max.” He paused for a moment, his gaze moving to Charles behind you. “Maybe you just need a fucking reminder who you belong to.”

You barely gasped around his fingers when you felt Charles’ hands wander lower until his fingers brushed against the hem of your dress. Carlos watched you, delighted in the way your eyes widened when Charles pushed the fabric of your dress up to expose your scantily clad ass in a thong.

“This just for us, cherie?” Charles whispered in your ear, his voice low and his accent thick and it made you clench your legs together.

“Maybe she does remember she’s our whore after all,” Carlos commented as if you weren’t there.

Charles fingers wandered, his palm moving to cup your pussy and he let out a dark laugh. “And she’s fucking wet already. Barely even touched her.”

“Because she’s such a good toy,” Carlos cooed as he pushed his fingers further into your mouth until you let out a choked garble. “Even when she’s not trying, she wants to be our good girl.”

“Shit,” Charles groaned, his nose brushing against your neck as his fingers teased your soaking cunt. “She’s fucking dripping, Carlos. Making such a mess.”

“Guess we need to take care of our toy, Charles,” the Spaniard murmured in response.

And it should have terrified you. All of it should have made some sort of warning bell ring in your head. You were in public. You were in a club. Anyone could see the three of you. Anyone could see the way the Ferrari boys were touching you.

It was dark and it was loud and most of the people around you were far too drunk to comprehend their surroundings, but all it would take was for one picture to be taken and for the world to see the Red Bull princess at the mercy of the Ferrari boys.

But it didn’t scare you, or maybe you just really didn’t care. Maybe because you didn’t care what the world thought because Charles was sliding his cock into you and Carlos was slowly pumping his fingers in your mouth in a way that made you wish it was his cock, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else at that moment.

“Look at our pretty girl,” Carlos cooed as your eyes fluttered shut with Charles’ thrusts, his hands on your waist as he fucked you without a single care. “Taking it so well, amor. Like a good toy.”

“Fuck,” Charles groaned in your ear, panting in your ear as he pulled you back onto his cock. “So fucking tight, cherie. Gonna fill you up and let people see me dripping down your leg all night.”

You whined around Carlos’ fingers, a sound so pathetic and desperate that both boys almost wished the whole club could hear you.

“We are gonna fucking ruin you, amor,” Carlos murmured as his other hand softly caressed your cheek as if a small dribble of drool wasn’t leaking from the corner of your lips and ruining your makeup. “Not Red Bull’s princess, but our fucking whore.”

You moaned pathetically.

“Who knows,” his grin was a little vindictive and sinister. “Maybe we’ll send a little picture to your father. Show him which team his daughter really belongs to.”

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bandgie · 2 months

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question, what would skz do to make you squeal? what where when how, go all out~

chan!

likes hearing how happy he makes you! doesn't always have to be sexual. maybe he buys you something you've always wanted and you do a little happy squeak omfg makes his heart explode! but sexually? he likes hearing it when he drives his cock real deep in you. feeling your walls twitch and squeeze onto him when his tip is pushing past your cervix. you have to push on his tummy because he's just sooooo deeeepp but he likes hearing you squeak! he can see your swollen lips trying to form words but ugh! all you can do is mewl and squeal :(

minho!

grabs your butt outta no where to hear you chirp. sometimes it's in the comfort of your own home but most of the time it's in public. all you do is give him the 'did u just really do that here?' look and he's just smirking at back you like 'fuck yeah I did' in the bedroom I think it's pretty similar! but he's a lot more rough. his soft hand feels not-so-soft on your ass when he smacks it from behind. the force makes you lurch forward, gripping the pillow under you to muffle your squeals. and sometimes!! if he's eating you out from behind, he'll spread your cheeks to lick up your ass and watch your feet kick all cute

changbin!

anything! bin would do anything to hear you make little happy sounds. like chan, it just makes his heart melt and he's got that cute little smile when you're just so happy that you squeal but by far, eating you out while you make those cute noises are the best. there's just something about being buried between your legs with your fingers in his curls while you mewl and squeal that's just beautiful. honestly, changbin would be the one squealing the most (in and out of the bedroom) so he makes those sounds with you in your cunt tbh

hyunjin!

my lover boy! his fav is when he makes something for you or maybe he's just showing you his latest work in progress and you clap your hands and squeal cuz he's just so talented. really gives him motivation. not only are you his motivation but his muse. he loves painting your body in different ways: clothed, nude, standing, sitting, with your legs open. I've written before how hyunjin loves painting your pussy and I stand by that!! it's only natural that you squeal from embarrassment from the poses he puts you in, but he has a vision! he likes to paint the flush on your cheeks and the pinkness of your pussy, ugh defo fucks it when he's done BUT the whole process of drawing you while you whine about how shy you are is the best

han!

him making you squeal? it should be the other way around but I do think he likes hearing you make those cute little noises when he makes them too! it happens when you're both super desperate to fuck, like maybe you've been teasing each other all day or he's been on tour for a while and when you two get together it's just bunnies fucking BUTBUTBUTBUT let me say just say...sex pills. no idea the actual word for it but it's those pills/foods that get you super horny and makes you all sensitive. those are hannie's fav when ya'll are fucking. everything is wetter, hotter, softer, just so much more. han always fucks you good but with those pills? it's like you're constantly creaming on his cock with every thrust of his hips. at some point, neither of you can form proper words and you just end up whining and squealing into each other's mouths.

felix!

there's just something about fingering you while being able to watch your face contort into pleasure that does it for felix. his fingers aren't super long, but it's all about the motion of the ocean. he's really good at getting you to cum on his digits really fast and keep going. his wrist is drenched with your cum and your pussy keeps leaking that white cream, but he shows no signs of stopping. steady pumping into you in a way that makes you raise your heels off the floor and bury yourself deeper into the couch. he's kissing you, obvi. lixie can't let just his fingers get all the attention, but it is difficult to properly suck on your tongue since you keep moaning and squealing.

seungmin!

I am on my dom!seungmin agenda because I just know he likes hearing you squeak and squeal when he's fucking you real hard. kinnddd of like chan in that he buries himself in you, but unlike chan in that seungmin will keep thrusting into you. it feels like you can hardly catch your breath with how hard and deep he's pounding into you, but you like how dizzy it makes you feel. flat on your stomach while he drives his cock in and out of your swollen pussy to a point that you can't moan and you just squeal like you're out of breath. mhm, he likes that. esp when he flips you around and surprises you with cleaning his cock from your cum.... yeah

jeongin!

give this man some head! throat fucking you is the absolute best (and his favorite) way to get you to squeal! on your back with your head hanging off the bed, on your knees, 69ing, he doesn't care! innie can't really hear you squealing when you're too busy choking on his dick, but he can hear you gag, the wet noises your mouth makes, the sound of your throat when his tip touches the back. those are all good yes but it's when you pull away from his cock to catch your breath that makes him groan. hearing you pant, whimper, and moan from his cock like he's fucking your pussy instead is heaven to this man. will guide your pretty mouth back to his cock by grabbing the back of your head. tapping his tip on your red lips to watch you loll your tongue out and lick it. and when he pushes past your mouth? hearing that squeal from him burying his cock as deep as your throat will let him makes your teary eyes worth it

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houseofanticipation · 2 months

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It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

#CW im told this one is realer than usual so be warned #r@pe fantasy #cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #breeding toy #r@petoy #r@pe kink

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cammys-imagines24 · 5 months

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°•Mizu Being Jealous•°

Mizu isn't naturally a possessive person by any means. She knows the shit women have to go through, being controlled by others and the world.

So, she'd never be dominating towards you or think she has any say in what you do.

That being said, while she trusts you wholeheartedly... she doesn't trust other people. Particularly other men.

Men who view you as just a pretty face. A prize they'd want nothing more than to steal away from her.

Now that just won't do.

See, if it's an easy matter such as someone touching you or groping you without your consent, say no more.

Their fingers? Gone. Their arms? Sliced clean from their body.

If some sleazy flesh trader sets their eyes on you and begins chatting you up, their hand sneaking to places on your body only meant for her touch alone, well...

They're dead. Plain as that. She'll waste no time in tearing them to shreds with her sword, their viscera painting the walls.

And, with blood stained hands she'll cradle your face, her cold demon exterior vanished.

She'll look at you like you're her whole world, which you are. She will protect you to the ends of the earth.

When it's a lascivious man vying for your attention, Mizu doesn't get jealous. She gets protective.

But, when it's not? Well that's another story.

Sometimes it's a girl at a brothel and she takes a liking to you.

The girl will be sweet where most men aren't. She'll smile at you and gingerly slip her kimono off her shoulder.

The sex worker will talk with you, with the hope of something more. Her eyes shining and all the while you seem to be enjoying yourself.

That sets Mizu on edge. Leaves her feeling twisted inside.

Because you should be with someone else.

Someone not hellbent on revenge. An impure demon with a vengeful, angry soul.

The girl would be a better match maybe or someone like her.

Perhaps not a sex worker but someone who can take care of you better than the blue eyed Samurai. Give you a normal life in ways she cannot, at least not until her revenge is complete.

Mizu won't rescue you from the girl because you're smiling and content. Instead she will let you be, never mind the hollow ache in her chest when she sees you start to laugh.

You were just chatting with the sex worker, conversing on friendly terms, regardless of the girls intentions. But, how could your beloved Samurai know that from a distance?

Like an internal echo in your body, you'll feel Mizu's absence immediately and you'll go out into the snow capped village to find her.

She'll be alone beside a natural hot springs, sapphire eyes sad behind her orange lenses.

You'll curl up at her side as if she were your shelter, your blanket.

You'll know right away how she feels. Having learned how to read her slight expressions like the back of your hand.

Mizu is jealous but more than that. She's feeling like she's not good enough for you.

A ridiculous thought really. She couldn't be more wrong.

You'll reach out to take off her glasses and thread your fingers through her hair, undoing her up-do.

"I love you, Mizu. Only you. It will only ever be you who holds my heart."

Her gaze softens from your tender touch. She'll take your hands in hers and kiss every knuckle.

Her mouth, warm against your skin, travelling up your arm until her tongue reaches the moonlit column of your throat and she plants a wet kiss along your necks pulse.

Mizu doesn't deserve you, she thinks. Still, with you in her arms, open to her, your pupils blown wide with sudden lust... who is she to disagree with your choice?

Perhaps the gods gave you to her. A gift for her cursed existence.

"Say it again." She'll whisper against your flesh, hot to the touch despite the winter. Hot from her.

Her fingers deftly untying your kimono, her hands grabbing at your hips as she pulls into her lap.

Her calloused digits digging into your thighs to spread them for her, your chest pressed against hers...

Her fingers tracing your hipbones, making you shudder...

You gasp when they ghost over your navel and down... and further.

To in between your legs. The spot that craves her and is glistening like the hot springs rippling surface beneath the moon.

"I love you, Mizu." You'll moan.

She can't get enough of the sounds you make. Just for her.

"I belong to you." You'll whimper.

Ah, like music to her ears.

Despite Mizu's feeling of jealousy and her worry of being an undeserving partner, she believes you above all else.

You chose her, a miracle really, so she'll do anything to make you happy.

"You're only mine, huh?" She'll rasp, seeking reassurance, between kisses and gentle bites along your skin.

"Y-Yes. Only yours." You'll pant, her expert fingers bringing you to the edge.

Mizu smirks and holds you even closer. She could tease you longer, draw it out like usual but she wants to be good for you. Give you what you need.

In a moment of softness she brushes her lips against your collarbones...

"I love you. You are my life." She'll say to you before making you come.

#blue eye samurai #bes #blue eye samurai mizu #bes mizu x reader #mizu x reader #mizu imagine #mizu imagines #mizu headcanon #mizu headcanons #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #blue eye samurai headcanon #bes x reader #blue eye samurai fanfic

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becomingmina · 4 months

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How would SKZ ask Y/N to be their girlfriend on Valentine’s Day 💘 fluff & tiniest suggestive w/ SKZ OT8. 18+ only mdni.

Bang Chan/Chris:

Chan would be so so straight-forward but so so nervous.

Chan would be busy on Valentine’s Day and was only be able to meet you at night. He would be extremely apologetic but it wasn’t an issue to you because you were just happy he wanted to spend some time with you, regardless of the time.

He would pick you up around 9pm.

“I got you something,” he said nonchalantly as he handed you a single red rose when you entered his car. You would place kiss on his cheeks to thank him, and he would immediately tense up, even though you have done that numerously times in the past.

After dinner at your favourite restaurant, he would ask to go on a walk and you agreed, following him hand on hand down the walk path by the park.

Once you reach the half way point before turning back, he pulls you towards him, holding both your hands. You can feel how shaken up he is.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked and you instantly nod yes making Chan let out a nervous chuckle before bombing you with many kisses.

Lee Minho/Lee Know:

Minho would try not to be romantic but is.

Minho would invite you over to his but blame it on his cats. “Do you want to come over? Soonie, Doongie and Dori has been asking for you?”

Minho would cook your favourite food and when you ask if you can help, he’ll say “no” but he would love it when you don’t listen and help him anyways. His heart would beat uncontrollably fast when your hand accidentally brushes against his when you reach for something. And when you ask him to help you cut the steak, he would hover over you, his chest flushed against your back as his hand is on top of yours guiding the knife down the piece of meat.

Once you guys are done eating, you both would sit on the couch and play with his cats. And when you weren’t playing attention, Minho would carefully place a cat treat on your thigh so his cats can jump on you and he would say, “See, I told you they like you so much. You know.. maybe you should be their mom?”

His ears would go red when you call him out for it but you say yes anyways, because who wouldn’t want to be Doongie’s dad’s girlfriend?

Seo Changbin:

Binnie would be so flirty and cheeky with it.

He would come over for a study date. It would be like any other study date you guys had, he’d help you with your music essay and in return you help him with study English.

“Can you read it for me Y/N? I need to hear it and then I’ll know,” Binnie would pout as if he was confused giving you his notebook. He points to a sentence and you read it.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes I want to be your boyfriend.” He answered quickly with his smirk. You were confused for a bit but finally catch on, playfully hitting him across the chest as you cringe at him. The playful fight would soon turn in to something steamy.

“I can’t believe you asked me to be your boyfriend,” Binnie would tease you as he helps you put back on your shirt.

Would order a lot of your favourite food and make you take a break from studying to watch a movie with him. Definitely a rom-com.

Hwang Hyunjin:

Hyunjin would be even more romantic than he already is.

He would set up a picnic somewhere pretty like the beach. He would bring all your favourite snacks and drinks and some of his painting equipment so you both can paint a little too. Hyunjin would have his digital camera with him so he can snap countless photos of you.

After painting across from each other for a while, he would chuckle at his painting then ask you what you think about it.

When you crawl over to look at the painting you notice the he painted two people who had similar features to you and him. That’s when you ask him, “Is that us?”

And he would shyly answer “Yes, that’s me and my girlfriend Y/N,” before pulling you onto his lap.

Would make out for a hot second before coming to sense that you guys were not alone at this beach.

Han Jisung:

Jisung would be so fun with it and go all out.

He would come over to yours during lunch time just to ‘hang out’. When he texted you he was outside you ran quickly to open the door. You were met with Jisung with a box of chocolates and some roses in his hand.

Your eyes flicker to his adorable puffy face then to the presents, that’s when you read the little note on the box:

‘Excuse me noona, do you have a boyfriend?’

It would read and you would giggle at him.

“So do you?” He asks sweetly and you pull him inside.

“Mhm, I have a boyfriend. His name is Han Jisung,” you playfully reply him.

Ji would pull you into his lap as he feeds you the chocolate covered strawberries.

“The strawberries taste so sweet, just like you noona.”

Lee Yongbok/Felix:

Felix would be so sweet with a hint of playfulness.

He would ask you to come over to help bake some Valentines sweets together. He would get out all his heart shaped cookie cutters and pink utensils just to make it more special.

When he pulls you into the kitchen he would pretend the was no apron so he’ll can give you a shirt to change into.

“Change into this, I don’t want your pretty shirt getting dirty.”

When you come out from his bedroom after changing you notice he is in the exact same shirt.

“Hey, we are matching! Like boyfriend and girlfriend!” he would happily say and pull you into a kiss.

You guys would spend hours trying to bake, because he would definitely lose focus and cling onto you. When you guys finally put the brownies and cookies in the oven, Felix would lift you onto the counter and slot himself in your legs, showering you with kisses as you guys wait for the timer to go off.

Would spend another couple hours trying decorate the dessert because you both be too busy playing and licking the cream off each-other.

Kim Seungmin:

Seungmin would be so cool and casual with it.

He would messaged you a week before Valentines day to meet him at a small coffee place in the quieter area of the city. You would show up first on the day and message him where he was. It would be a couple of minutes after sitting down that the owner brings you a tray of two coffees and some waffles.

“I didn’t order this,” you say trying to reject the food.

“Your boyfriend did,” he says you become more confused. “Seungmin.. He is running a little bit late, he will be here soon,” the owner gives you a smile before walking off.

“Boyfriend?” You chuckle to yourself, unable to stop grinning at the title.

You gave in to the smell of the coffee and grabbed the coffee to taste it.

“Hi sweetie, how’s your coffee? From your boyfriend?” Seungmin would come from behind you place a kiss to your cheek before sitting down across from you.

The rest of the day, you would follow and cling onto your puppy boyfriend like a lost puppy.

Yang Jeongin/I.N:

Jeongin would be super shy, super shy.

He would ask his team members what was the best way to ask you to be his girlfriend and after many different options everyone agree on one. It would be best if he wrote and sent you a letter on Valentine’s Day.

You would receive the letter and immediately open up to read. You smile to yourself at his cute handwriting and all the effort he put in to write such a perfect letter address to you.

‘So I’m asking, if you want to make it official and be my girlfriend?’

“Hey, umm. I got your letter by the way. And I got an answer for you.. if you want to come over,” you say nervously over the phone.

“Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answered sweetly as you and Jeongin were sat at your dining table unable to control your silly smiles.

“And you can stay over tonight.. if you want,” you ask your flustered boyfriend.

The rest of the day was spend at your house , tangled with each other in your bed, as Netflix plays as back ground noise.

{Notes: Happy early Valentine’s Day. I hope everyone knows they are loved! Also not proof read, like ever!}

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hydrngea · 1 year

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𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇

a/n : ahhh i've been so busy lately but i finally got the chance to write this last night! rafe’s kinda ooc so I apologize in advance lol hope you enjoy <3

notes/summary : early mornings are for appreciating you | rafe cameron x f!reader, fluff, established relationship (you’ve been together for years)

word count : 804

masterlist / latest rafe fic

daylight unwraps the hues of the room while the sun shines through the window you had neglected to cover up last night. rafe rouses with the light, eyes straining open.

it’s early; early enough for him to get up and close the curtains over the arbiture and fall back asleep with ease. but for some reason he finds himself too comfortable in the position he in right now-can’t get himself to abandon his spot on the bed and the warmth that radiates from you.

he stretches closer beside you, turning to lay with his back towards the window and facing you. he leans himself against his palm while creating a barrier between you and the light. he’s glad you sleep on your stomach, means the sun won’t get into your eyes and you can stay asleep.

mindlessly, his free digits find the curve of your back and trace over your skin; the imprints of the wrinkled sheets left on your preassure points. the faded strech marks on the flip side of your arms. the freckles on your shoulder.

he thinks his new favorite activity is finger painting over your features;t here’s just something about the way his calloused finger pads feel against the softness of your untouched complexion which could keep him occupied and content for hours.

rafe was never the inventive type, never good with shapes like an artist or spoken phrases like a poet. even with no knowledge of creative subjects he knew without having to study you for long that you were a work of art.

he thinks- even though he doesn’t know much about his existence- that god must of carved you just for him to admire.

minutes pass. the tangerine mountains of the sunrise fade to the comforting yellow the of the day and the sky returning to its familiar morning blue.

his exhales synchronize with yours, the room filled with a comfortable silence which feels so underrated.

you’re the one to break it, limbs shifting under the comforter you’ve mostly stolen off of him and lips smacking together as you awake.

you lift your head from your pillow and look at rafe with unfocused eyes which are just beginning to regulate to the abnormal amount of light that blankets the surface of the bedroom.

“shouldve closed the blinds last night,” you say as press your palms onto your eye sockets, and rafe can’t help but laugh. he pulls you on-top of him and you comply, letting out your own breathy chuckle because of how clingy he’s acting so early in the morning. your nose grazes the side of his before you slump down over him, cheek resting on his bare chest and ear right over his heart.

gentle lips brush on your hair and you melt on top of him, wrapping you own arms around his waist. he can feel your lips curving into a smile against his skin. “how long you’ve been staring at me?” you ask, head lifting from his chest to look at him.

“dunno.” he responds, voice still gruff. a hum exerts from you as you relax back into him.

again the two of you fall into a warm silence, content with being within each others space. no words are said and he returns to stenciling you; drawing shapes and patterns while trying to memorize you shape and every minuscule detail about your body as if you’d disappear any moment.

rafe thinks about all he didn’t do to deserve such a heaven sent gift like you. even after years together, there’s still a part of him who believes you deserve more, better. someone as pure as you. he thinks maybe he should express his gratitude towards you more often.

he’s the one to cease the quiet this time, softly at first. “i feel like..” he fingers begin to drag over the same spot while he tries to come up with the right words to say.

“like what?”

“like you were made for me. like i was made for you.”

his words make you sit up, locking your eyes with his. “what has gotten into you today, mr. whipped cameron.” you whisper as you lower your mouth onto his and press a gentle kiss at the corner of his lips.

he chuckles into you, lightly squeezing your waist. “nothing.”

“nothing?” he lets out a sigh as you pull away with your brow furrowed.

“just promise me you’ll never leave.”

“well if u keep saying stuff like that then why would i ever want to?” you say, dimples on display as your lips curve into a smile.

he scoffs, and you let out a screech when rafe flips the two of you over so he hovers over you. your hands find his cheeks, and you lift yourself up just enough to meet him halfway.

“i would never leave this.” you murmur against him, right before his lips spark over yours.

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