Oh How I Love To Torture Myself 😭

Oh how I love to torture myself 😭

ephemeral

pairing: huh yunjin x fem!reader. genre: angst. warnings: mentions of eating disorders and depression. a/n: the entire story is yunjin's pov (but still third person limited)

the moon hung low, a pale light gently illuminating the cemetary where yunjin stood. her fingers traced over the letters on the gravestone, trying her best to keep herself together and not cry right there.

y/n y/l/n: beloved daughter, older sister, best friend, and soulmate.

the words felt uncanny, as if they belonged in someone's nightmare, and not hers. she knelt by the grave, her knees sinking softly into the freshly cut grass, and her chest tightening with the weight of unshed tears. the air was cold and dry, carrying the faint scent of flowers and the distant murmur of the nearby river.

yunjin placed a single lily of the valley on the grave, its white petals almost glowing in the darkness. her heart ached with the pain that became all too familiar to her since y/n's death—a pain that gnawed at her insides, leaving her numb.

she hadn't eaten much in days, the thought of food hurting stomach. she sometimes wonders if it's because food was y/n's favorite thing. she'd always be eating with y/n whenever she could, but now she could barely even look at or even eat food without thinking of her.

now her clothes were loose on her, her reflection in the mirror a ghost of the loud and loving person she used to be.

"i miss you, so much," yunjin whispered, her voice trembling, "i don't—"

a sob escaped her lips.

"i don't know how to do this without you."

memories of y/n flooded her mind—y/n's laughter, the way she would scrunch her nose when she didn't like something, the way she would stick her tongue out a little bit when she was doing something, the way her embrace would make yunjin feel so safe, loved, and at home.

all of that was gone now, like a dream that slipped away the moment she opened her eyes.

yunjin stayed at the y/n's grave for what felt like hours, lost in the silence, lost in her memories, before she finally forced herself to stand. the weight of grief pressed down on her, making each step she took heavier and challenging as she made her way out of the cemetery.

she continued to walk aimlessly, her feet moving in the lonely and quiet streets of the outskirts of seoul as if they had a mind of their own. her destination was bound to happen, though; she knew where she was headed even if she didn't want to look or admit it.

then the bridge came into view, its structure arching beautifully over the river that gently streamed beneath. this was their spot, where they had spent countless nights together, talking everything and nothing, the world fading around them until it felt like they were the only ones left. yunjin's breath hitched when she stepped onto the bridge, the familiar sound of dark wood and footsteps echoing in the lifelessness.

she leaned against the old woooden railing, staring down at the water that shimmered under the light of both the moon and stars. the river was a ribbon of silver, winding through the landscape, and yunjin remember how y/n used to say it was like their love—always moving, always changing, but never ending.

the memories came crashing down on her like strong ocean waves. the first time y/n had held her hand, the electric feeling that shot right through her. the way y/n kissed her so gently under this very sky, the stars reflecting in her eyes, making her feel like she was floating. the fights they had, the tears that they shed, and the ways they'd always make up right after, because their love was stronger than that had ever tried to tear them apart,

except for this. except for death.

a sob escaped escaped yunjin's lips, and she clutched the railing as if it were the only thing keeping her from falling apart. her tears fell freely now, mixing with the cold night air as she cried for everything they had lost. for the future they had planned, for the dreams they never realize. for the love that consumed her. for the love that was still there, burning inside her, with nowhere to go.

"please," she sobbed, "i just want you back."

she leaned her body forward a little, her abdomen pressing against the dark oak railing.

"i don't know how to live without you," she whispered to the wind, her voice swallowed by the night. "i don't know if i even want to."

her sobs came out faster and louder. her entire body trembled and her heart ached with pain.

she stayed there, sobbing as she let the memories once again wash over her, until she was too exhausted to keep crying. her body felt heavy, her mind numb, and all she wanted was an escape, to find some semblenace in the silence of the night.

eventually, she pushed herself away from the railing and started walking away, her steps flow and unsteady. the streets were deserted, the city asleep, but yunjin coudn't shake the feeling that she was truly the only one alone.

when she finally reached their her apartment, she felt like she was stepping into a different world—one that was once filled with love and laughter, now cold, empty, and lifeless. yunjin shut the door behind her, leaning against it as she tried to catch her breath. her eyes then fell on a burgundy colored hoodie. it was draped over the back of the couch, the one y/n wore and took off when they had their final movie night. it still smelled like her—the comforting scent of dark amber and oud, a scent y/n always used because it reminded her of her grandpa.

yunjin walked towards the couch and gently grabbed the hoodie, pulling it over her head, and inhaling deeply. the scent wrapped around her senses, embracing her like a warm embrace, and for a moment she almost pretended y/n was still there next to her, holding her, and telling her that everything was gonna be okay.

but her illusion quickly disintegrated as quickly as it formed, and yunjin was left with nothing but the traumatizing reality of her loss. she stumbled into their her room and fell onto the bed, clutching the stitch stuffed animal that y/n had won for her at a carnival for her twenty-second birthday. it was silly, a reminder of the happier moments, but it was all she had from the girl who loved her unconditionally and had once been her everything.

yunjin curled up under the covers, the feeling of y/n's hoodie and the stuffie in her arms being the only thing to keep her from falling apart once more. she reached for the remote, her fingers shaking as she turned on the tv, navigating to their favorite show—oregairu. the familiar opening theme song played, and yunjin swore she could hear y/n's voice singing along to it.

they had watched this show millions of times. laughing at the characters when they did funny things, quoting their favorite lines, imagining themselves in the world where everything seemed simpler, where love was just another thing in life and not something that could be ripped away in the blink of an eye.

yunjin's body trembled with silent sobs, the sound of the show playing the background, a cruel and constant pain that tore through her entire being. she clutched onto her stitch tigher, as if it could somehow bring y/n back, as if she could control the universe so she could turn back time and give herself one more moment with the girl she loved.

she knew better, though. yunjin knew that life didn't and would never work that way, that some things were truly ephemeral, as fleeting as a breath, as fragile as a dream. and all she could do now was hold onto the memories, even as they threatened to consume her completely.

with the show still playing in the background, yunjin's exhaustion finally caught up to her. she buried her face into her stitch stuffie, y/n's hoodie enveloping her in it's warmth, allowing her exhaustion and the darkness to consume her. in her dreams, she was with y/n again, on the bridge, under the stars, and for a fleeting moment, everything was the way it should be.

but even in her dreams, yunjin knew that nothing lasts forever. that some loves, no matter how strong and beautiful, were destined to fade away, leaving nothing but a trail of memories and an aching void where there had once been light.

and when she woke up the next morning, the sun peaking the the blackout curtains, yunjin was alone, her stitch and hoodie being the only things with her. the weight of the world pressing down on her entirely as she only realied that the only true thing for ephemeral was hope.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Hey everyone, so this would be my first time writing full on smut, so please take it easy on me, and this is mostly to practice writing smut and such scenes,

I haven't written any of this in order nor have I actually written all of these in October,

I mostly write when I feel inspired or have a vague idea of what to write.

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Purple means short - less than 500 words

Pink means medium - more than 500 words

Blue means long - over 1,250 words

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Day 1: Pegging

Day 2: Roleplay (WIP)

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Day 18:

Day 19: Voyeurism (WIP)

Day 20:

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Day 25:

Day 26: Masturbation

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Day 31:

Miscellaneous <3

Groups that don't have a tab will go here

Blackpink’s 10th anniversary

north and south poles | minatozaki sana

summary: sana wonders, are we not the two sides of the magnet?

pairing: childhood-friend!sana x fem!reader

themes: extremely angsty, best friends to ?? to ??, internalized homophobia, gender dysphoria, sana's not too great of a friend, reader is a pushover until she isn't, implied sex, original male character, [----] x reader

wc: 3.3k

(side a: we can't be friends - ariana grande)

when sana's seven, her mother explains the cardinal rules in life. that boys and girls are polar opposites, like two sides of the coin, or like left and right. boys and girls are like the north and south poles of a magnet. and for a long time this holds true.

boys like to play rough, kick dirt over each other, chase after poor cats in hopes of catching them, or smack each other in the head. it's all a bit too gruesome for sana. she never did like watching them play, it felt like they were fighting. boys are like boxing matches, competing for a top winner. but girls are different.

girls are gentle, they play with dolls together, creating groups to play house or sliding down slides, and everyone cheers each other on. girls also like sharing cool things they found: cute rocks, rings, and toys. girls are like gentle waves crashing against the beach.

sana makes this distinction very early on, boys are boys and girls are girls. there's no in between for a seven year old sana. and life gets explained to her pretty easily by her mom. be a pretty girl, and you'll marry a good man who'll protect you and your family.

but her mother also told sana that you were a rowdy kid. a girl that played with the boys; you liked kicking dirt at the boys, chasing cats to catch them, or smacking each other in the head. but you were a girl, you also liked playing with dolls, and sliding down slides. you especially liked cute rocks, so you were someone she needed clarification with how to categorize as a kid.

so she asked her mom about you.

"oh her, she has no manners. her parents probably don't have enough time to teach her all that. they're both always so busy at work." her mother's chopping onions as she speaks, not lifting an eye at sana. and little sana rocks herself back and forth in the kitchen, a little confused by her own mom.

she's met your parents, they were nice people. offering royal milk tea to her, even if she wasn't allowed to have it. they always gave sana first pick for dishes they made, always. and like them, you often gave her parts of your lunch whenever sana was given too little.

and when sana enters middle school, this cardinal rule starts to shake a bit. boys are boys and girls are girls, but you are a girl, with boy-ish tendencies.

you liked playing rough with fuji, throwing dirt at each other even if it stained each other's school uniform. you liked shoving bigger boys when they were mean to girls, even if you had a black eye and sana had to rub a hard boiled egg over it.

but you were also as gentle as a girl, you held sana's hand gently whenever she wanted to walk along the rock wall, balancing on the ledge. you also helped blow and wash off sana's cuts whenever she scraped her knee in dance. just like how her mother does it.

you were the in between, and in between's don't exist in her mother's cardinal rule. when her mother and father sit at the dinner table and sana's mother asks her which boy in class she thinks is cute. sana doesn't think of any boy, but she thinks of you. you with your rough exterior with the older boys, but gentle and soft to sana, always.

"fuji?" her mother asks her. and sana thinks about fuji, a dependable friend in her life. a boy that is also gentler, although sometimes she thinks he's too loud during basketball. he shoves harder than you do, when you three play tag together. his hands are more rough, he towers over sana and really she sees him like an older brother.

sana thinks fuji is exactly the guy that her mother would like for her to marry.

"yeah, i think so." but sana really doesn't think so, her mind drifts off to your long hair and your soft shoulders.

when sana's twelve and excited to go home with you after the sga meeting, fuji confesses to her at the back of the school. he presents to her a letter. and through it all, the only thing she could gather was that sana was the prettiest girl in their class, and she has the prettiest smile.

all these compliments feel nice, but it doesn't stir her like you do. when you tell her that her hair is pretty today or that the bow she chose to match her shoes makes her look look fashionable. she stands by the wall, hands behind her back and staring at her shoes. all she can afford to do is nod at the words.

she knows this much, fuji is nice enough. he doesn't kick her chair like some other boys in the class; he always lets her walk inside the sidewalk when there are cars. so when he asks for a first date, she agrees, not letting her eyes look up at him. he walks away relieved, but sana can't feel anything other than a weight in her stomach.

another cardinal rule her mother told her is that lying is wrong.

so she asks for your opinion, and as she stands by your desk, watching you peacefully take a nap. she thinks about just ripping up the letter in her hand. she readies herself for the best performance of her life. to ask you a question that's self-indulgent. if you'll be her first kiss. and just like that she broke another cardinal rule, lying to you, but mostly to herself.

she thinks your lips would be soft, smelling like that cherry lipstick you like so much. and when you do kiss, she feels like she's floating. your hands are soft, when they cradle her jaw. moisturized with that cherry hand cream she gifted you. your hands are smaller too, they fit her head nicely. and most of all you're gentle. you pull apart, and sana nearly falls forward, body leaning into the kiss.

you stare at her in expectation, and panic surges through her body. you aren't fuji, you are the girl that's always played rougher than other girls. a girl that'll always give her 100% during class sprints, while all the other girls lightly jog. and the first thing she can think of is that she wishes you were a boy.

so she say's the exact words that tear your heart apart.

“wow yeah, that was good.” sana fiddles with her school skirt, “i wish you were a boy, you’d make a girl very happy kissing her like that.”

sana says that, but she watches as your eyes fall, hand dejected, and she can't help but feel like everything she knows about love is wrong. you don't say anything, so she leaves, closing the sga door behind her.

eyes welling up in tears as she thinks about how wrong this all is. if only you were a boy. she sinks onto the floor and cries into herself. when sana goes on the date, and fuji kisses her at her doorstep, she thinks of you. how he has to bend down to kiss her, and it all feels so wrong. later that night she starts a pros/cons list between you and fuji.

the only thing she has written for fuji is that "mother would like him." she tears the sheet of paper and tosses it into her waste basket.

when sana's eighteen and talking to her friends about boyfriends. all they have to say is that sex is amazing. they all talk about their first time and when they ask sana of what she thinks, she confesses that she's never done it.

"doesn't fuji ask you to?" one friend asks.

"no, he doesn't." the girl looks at sana weird but then shakes her head quickly.

"some guys are like that, they might not want to do it yet." she comments and then the conversation shifts on to talk about the latest school gossip.

sana's quiet for the rest of the week. she thinks about it, sex with fuji, and all she can do is groan. it's the natural progression of a relationship, but she feels like it's a weight in her stomach. that same weight she felt when he confessed to her.

so she does what she naturally did next when she was twelve; she finds you. she hasn't visited your house in years, it's still the same, even though there's a new door that she doesn't recognize anymore. and when she rings it, she finally sees you up close after so long.

she thinks about what she came here for in the first place. oh right, sex with fuji. so she comes up with the best excuse she can, that fuji wants to have sex. she knows its absurd, she's lying through her teeth, none of the reasons makes sense.

but the way you look right now, she can't think of anyone else she wants to have sex with. it stirs low in her stomach. her wanting you, so she lets a bit of truth in her lie.

"i need you to be my first, i want you to be. it can't be anyone else." sana is firm, but you look conflicted. eyes flitting all over the room. debating your morals.

she grabs your hands. eyes with want as she stares at you, and then you say yes. and suddenly the weight is lifted. sana feels like she's floating again.

when you pull her into your room, she feels like she's invincible. this room has always been so safe, and the way you stare into her with want, she thinks she wants to stay here forever in your arms.

the way you ask for permission, the way you constantly ask her if this is what she wants. asking if she's feeling good, gentle hands smelling like cherries that slip off her clothes. she thinks she'll stay naked like this forever if you asked her to.

her mind fills with you, shouting your name into the night where only you two exist in this world. she thinks this is right, this is what love is all about. this little bubble lasts only a night.

weeks later, she proposes sex to fuji, and he nods adamantly. like a horny teenager boy, which he is. but it all feels so off, even though she know's that he'll never cross boundaries. his hands feel too rough, he's too fast and he never asks sana how she feels.

sana feels the emptiest when she thinks back to how she thanked you when she left your room, when all she wanted to say was "i love you." and cherish you for the rest of her life.

when sana's nineteen on her birthday, all she can think of is how she hates fuji's arms around her shoulder. how you stare at the arm like it's the most offensive thing in the world. and sana agrees too, it is offensive, so she shoves it off, playing it off like she has an itchy shoulder.

she smiles at the way you relax back into your seat, like you staked your claim on her. it makes her feel wanted by you. even if she knows its wrong that you kiss her messily in the bar bathroom five minutes later, she feels like life is right.

when sana's twenty, bored out of her mind in her apartment with fuji. she thinks of you, she often does anyways. eyes wide when she comes up with the best plan. she purposely fights with fuji, calls him too suffocating, watching tears roll down his eyes, and she feels bad. she really does, she hates seeing him cry because of her, but she needs to get away.

so she calls you, bags packed and waiting by the door. her heart leaping in her chest when you knock on the door. grabbing her bags and asking her to stay in the car. giving stern words to fuji before finally leaving together. away from fuji.

sana stays with you for weeks, waking up and sleeping next to you. always attached to the hip, just like magnets. she lets herself believe this is her life, living with you, being with each other forever. she fits perfectly in your hold, as well as you in her. she always tells you she loves you, but only after you fallen asleep. she whispers it into your ears like they'll be heard. like a spell she put you under.

she doesn't think about fuji until he texts her much later, asking if it's okay to meet up and make up. so she goes back, feeling awful about letting her boyfriend believe she's mad at him. she avoids you for months to not feel the guilt. but it eats at her every day.

when sana's twenty-four and enjoying a stroll in the city with fuji. he proposes to her, with both their families around for the surprise. as she listens to him, one knee up, professing his love for her. she looks at her mother, her mother with happy tears in her eyes and she can't find herself to say no, so she says yes instead.

wedding planning is fun when she thinks about it as a wedding with you, so the best she can do is ask you to be her maid of honor. she presents to you the wedding invitation in your apartment. talking your ear off about how happy she is, watching you get more and more upset.

just waiting for you to tell her you want to run away with her, to elope together. move away and change names and live in europe together. she lists off all the things she can think of that a girl would like in a wedding, but you never ask her to run away. she knows its selfish, to want you to pull her out of her life, she just can't find the courage to pull herself out of it.

you show up to the wedding, in a gorgeous dress that she thinks that she would marry you in right now. you give a speech about how you, fuji, and sana all met. you talk with so much passion in your voice. she thinks that you might actually be happy for them. sana cries tears out of despair, maybe you really do think sana loves fuji. but she's in love with you.

when you make an analogy that fuji and sana are like magnets drawn to each other, the whole crowd awws, and sana feels her heart break. thats how she sees you and her, a perfect match. the rest of the wedding becomes unremarkable to her.

when you disappear, sana searches for you: eyes wide and frantic. calling up all your friends and family, but they all say the same thing, "she said she's going on vacation for a while, soul-searching?"

sana visits your house everyday, waiting for you to show up like hidden treasure. ever since she's found out she's been pregnant, she's been trying to find tell you about it. you should be the first to know, but you don't show up until a month later.

and when sana wakes up to the sight of you, it's like she's whole again. she walks away from that conversation sadder than ever, you don't drown in her eyes anymore. hands shuffling and changing positions often as she explains about her new incoming newborn.

when sana's twenty-five you walk out of her life. after the long labor and intense pain she went through, out came her little baby girl. wailing and crying at the introduction of the world, fuji's trying to wipe down sana's sweat and calm her down, but sana's drowsiness leads to her calling out your name instead, fuji think it's strange but doesn't comment on it. she sleeps for a long time.

when she wakes up to fuji excitedly telling sana that you are visiting. she tries her best to smooth out her hair and her heart rate jumps at the news. so she gets ready for you to visit her.

she thinks she'll name her daughter after you, the same girl she's so in love with. when she proposes the idea, you shut her down. she's never heard this tone before, so harsh and so mean. but she deserves it, the same way she knows she deserves all things bad to her when you look so dejected every time she leaves. she needs you by her side, she can't do motherhood alone with fuji, she doesn't think she can do life without you.

but then you say it, words that make her feel like her heart got pulled out of her chest. you pulled it out. you're moving away, a whole different country, a whole life without sana. and you want to, be away from sana. she can hear it in the way you say it, the way you stand up from the visitor's chair, having only sat there for a minute. the way you walk out of the room. you would have kept walking out had fuji not stopped you.

and sana's angry, after all this, you walk away. she can't tell who she's angry at anymore. angry at you, angry at fuji, angry at her mom, angry at the world. and she lands on it, she's angry at herself. with hot tears running down her face, you look back one more time, and you still leave. like you just double checked that it is exactly what you want to do, leave sana all alone.

when sana's thirty and thinking, "yeah, i am okay after all this time." she isn't. because her little girl has just run into you. and nearly hit her head, falling back. but with gentle and caring hands, you stand her back up. asking her daughter if she's alright. and as her daughter runs back to sana, sana can see you for the first time in five years.

your hair is longer, you look more tired, more lines on your face. but your eyes are still so wild, familiar eyes that she's found herself dreaming about for years. for five years to be exact, she dreams of you returning. so you walk up to sana and fuji, calm and collected about seeing them after five years.

but sana's panicking, like she's seen a ghost. you basically are a ghost in sana's life, she's been wondering lately if you really have been there in her life, if not for photos she really wonders if this is all a dream.

a dream that comes crashing down, you pick up a small girl, she's younger than sana's daughter. but she's got your wild eyes and cute nose. and sana thinks that she could die here. right now the rug could be pulled out from under her and she wouldn't utter a peep.

you have a daughter, and a wife. a gorgeous wife who smiles at you like how sana used to. and her eye line follows, you look your wife with the same passion of when you were both eighteen and far too stupid to understand anything in the world. you look at this woman like you used to look at sana.

"it's been a while." sana's voice cuts in. she needs to hear your voice after so long.

"yeah, i guess it has." you reply, finally looking at her after so long. sana gulps, willing the tears away. you sound the same, lighter than your last conversation, like you've made peace with it.

"honey, you're crying." fuji says wiping away sana's tear and you smile at that. like you've finally accepted fuji as her husband.

"oh i didn't notice." sana laughs, rapidly wiping her tears away. she's embarrassed, here she is thinking that you still love her, but you don't. not anymore.

sana tries her best to talk with fuji and momo. them talking about their line of work and interests. but sana can only stare at you.

eyes wide open.

a/n: i think im actually evil for writing this. like no joke. but anyways!! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

435 notes View Post

hwabyul4wheesun

1 year ago

This is so good, I don’t care if it’s a sad oneshot cuz it’s so good

okok, headcanons for fwb w Jihyo? (not just smutty, but maybe some sad ones too?) thanks! - 🧸 anon

★ — PARK JIHYO HCS : Friends With Benefits !! ✮⋆˙

☆ a/n: I actually love writing sad-ish shit (angsty sex ugh), also yes this gets done quicker than most rqs guysss :p

☆ warnings : most nsfw! written for FEMALE reader or g!p reader. thigh kink. switch!jihyo. written under the cut ≽^•⩊•^≼ !!

★ — HOW IT HAPPENED! :

honestly, jihyo didn’t mean for it to come out that way. she had done a lot of drinking the night it happened, a little overly stressed about a new twice come back- when she just blurted it out to you. “do you wanna fuck?”. and I mean, who would say no to the park jihyo? not anyone with a brain. so obviously you said yes!

now, in the morning jihyo was (rightfully) confused when she found you in her bed. but as her memories had come back to her, you two discussed it (in graphic detail. especially the part where you discussed the scratches she left on your back, and the probable noise complaint from your neighbors).

suddenly, boom! a friends with benefits relationship started. jihyo’s a busy girl, so you didn’t mind! you’d willingly help her destress anytime!

★ — FWB SEX W/ JIHYO! :

jihyo’s an animal in bed. there are two things, you either get super whiny and submissive jihyo who NEEDS to be fucked right then and there. she wants her clothing ripped off, and your strap deep inside of her as quick as possible. she wants to be begging to cum as you pound relentlessly into her :((

submissive jihyo is insatiable. she won’t stop until she’s near passing out. and she definitely won’t let you stop. even if your jaw locks. you’re going to make her cum.

submissive jihyo will ride your cock so hard you feel you might cramp up. she’ll squeeze her thighs around you and milk every last drop of cum from you. but fuuuuuuuck, do you love her thighs. they’re like heaven and feel even better.

but! dominant jihyo is a complete one eighty. first of all, if you come to her and you wanna be fucked, you’re e gonna get fucked. jihyo will use her biggest, thickest strap on you until you’re whining and begging for her to stop (while secretly wanting more). and if you’ve got a dick..good luck. she’s teasing you endlessly, maybe even whipping out the vibrators to torment you some more. she loves to see you whimpering <3

if you’re a good girl for her, dominant jihyo will shower you with praise <3 and maybe she’ll even let you lay between her thighs when it’s all over :))

but if you’re a bad girl- dominant jihyo won’t stop until you’re shooting blanks or clenching so tight around her finger she thinks they might break. She just loves to see her little girl sobbing, feeling the most intense pleasure in her life.

★ — KINKS! :

thigh kinkkkkk! trust and believe our girl is going to be absolutely SMOTHERING you in her thighs. she’s got a pretty light asphyxiation kink, and likes to see the air leave you, nearly making you pass out. but oh, it feels like a gift from the fucking gods when she straddles you like that.

degradation! whether it’s giving or receiving, jihyo needs degradation. while you’re fucking relentlessly into her tight little cunt, she needs you to be telling her how much of a dirty slut she is for your cock :(( and if you’re the one being endlessly tortured, jihyo won’t stop calling you her perfect fucking cumslut. because that’s what you are, right? <3

voyeurism! jihyo loves to see you all dressed up for her. coming to your room after a long day, there’s nothing she wants more than to see you whining as you finger or jerk yourself off. she wants to see that pretty blush on your face <3

sex…anywhere! jihyo will fuck you literally anywhere. in the storage closet? okay! in the dance room? perfect, the mirrors make it hotter. in a bathroom? you better keep quiet for her. hell, even in JYP’s office? She’ll make you cum all over his documents.

★ — AFTERCARE! :

jihyo’s aftercare depends on if she’s giving or receiving that night. if dominant jihyo is giving the aftercare, she’ll pepper kisses on your back after your done your fifth round at most. she’ll carry you off to the bath, sometimes your in and out of consciousness, and she’ll clean you up nice and good.

dominant jihyo will hold you to sleep, rubbing up and down your waist and providing warmth with her soft body. she’ll whisper little words to you, or play you some of twice’s soft music.

submissive jihyo wants to be pampered. she’s like a little brat. when she’s done taking your strap/cock, she’ll whine until you clean her up. she’ll look at you with those cute eyes of hers, give you a smile that makes her just look…so beautiful, until you give in.

submissive jihyo wants you to hold her when she’s sleeping. maybe she feels protected then, maybe she just wants the warmth. you start to think otherwise when she nuzzles her head into your neck and plants kisses there.

★ — BUT…:

things get hard when you realize you actually like her. jihyo isn’t aware of it, but you sure as hell are. those stupid butterflies you get when she brushes your waist, or smiles in your direction. the view of her back as she gets dressed from your bed in the morning, covering in love bites.

actually, jeongyeon is the first to figure it out. she wants to scold you two, but then she sees the love in your eyes for jihyo. her heart breaks a bit for you, knowing the type of busy woman jihyo can be. but she appreciates you being there for her little sister :((

when jihyo figures out you like her…she’s distraught. of course, being jihyo, she over thinks to the MAX. what if she hurts your feelings? the last thing she wants is to ruin your… well- what is it you have exactly? a friendship? no…not anymore. a relationship? well…maybe…?

actually, your love might be a little..unrequited at first. but jihyo thinks she could learn to love you just fine.

231 notes View Post

hwabyul4wheesun

8 months ago

So cute man 🫠

heyy can you please write le sserafim reaction to 6th member having a kinda big tattoo?

—> le sserafim reaction to 6th member reader having a big tattoo (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

a/n: hii there, I'm trying to finish with all the requests and will definitely open them, expect a lot of work in the coming days ❤️

warnings: english not my native language, possibly spelling mistakes

gif not mine | pics not mine

library

sakura

when sakura found out that you had a painting of beautiful lilac flowers on your collarbone, she was delighted.

every time you wear something without a collar, she will definitely compliment you. she also has a bunch of photos on her favorite camera, where the emphasis is on your tattoo or collarbone.

she will knit tops for you that will not hide the tattoo, and after performances, she will definitely help you wash off your makeup or remove the patch that hides it, so that it will definitely be present in the photo.

chaewon

I think chaewon will definitely recognize the meaning if there is one, will look it over and over, if you did it when you started preparing for your debut or during it, will definitely help to take care of it.

I think she's the type to pair a tattoo with you. some cute phrase that you say to each other all the time. she'll also emphasize it somewhere at concerts.

yunjin

ooh, she will constantly compliment you and your tattoo. the obligatory "that's really sexy".

since the tattoo is on your thigh, she'll circle it while you're lying next to each other, or will secretly ask stylists and memebers to give you skirts and shorts, especially if the concept allows you to not hide it. your biggest hyper for sure.

kazuha

she was very surprised when she saw the kitty on the side of your belly, how could she not have noticed it before?

she really likes the way it looks, every time you wear something short, her eyes will run over the tattoo, it pleases her very much. on your birthday she will definitely add to the selection of pictures where the kitty can be clearly seen.

eunchae

when you got tattoos with member drawings, baby chae just cried. it's a huge indicator to her of your bond.

If someone asks about the relationship between members, she will point to your tattoo and say that you are a family 🥹

at one time she had a tattoo on her wallpaper 🤗

240 notes View Post

hwabyul4wheesun

1 year ago

The greatest thing you’ll ever read

untethered devotion

witch!son chaeyoung x witchhunter!reader || angst, smut, fluff

synopsis: was love the biggest sin you ever committed?

warnings: smut ; cursing ; more enemies to lovers ; nightmares ; death threats ; reader is a complete idiot ; chaeyoung is questioning all morals at this point ; winter to spring kinda idk ; some violence ; cold but soft at the same time ; not proofread

pls read this first for context

later that same night, you dream of chaeyoung.

it had become all the usual for you now: fleeting sounds of her laugh and glimpses of her long, black hair or the tattoo marks on her skin. a serene nightmare that would haunt you in every second you were awake, but this was clear to you, despite being brutal.

you’re chasing her around the cabin. the four walls surrounding you are closing in, forcing themselves closer and closer together, but chaeyoung is somehow just out of reach. she glances back in many takes, giggling in mirth with a shine in her eyes. get me! they speak to you–like a siren in the ocean. i want you to catch me.

and when you do catch her—finally, bunching your fingers into the pelt that she’s wearing, slamming her to the wall. she’s laughing still, mocking you—like this was all a game to her. even after you press close and shove your knees between her bare thighs, your hands find her slimming throat and are squeezing.

your lips part with a stranlgled breath. “you’re nothing but a demon’s bride to me, witch.” you spit, thinking of the facade she’s emitting: and flowers are sprouting out from the soft snow.

she whispers to you, a smile on her face still.

“y/n.”

you’ve heard her say your name before, the only time was earlier but it’s all she says to you here. you heave her up the wall, wringing her neck. you lock eyes with chaeyoung as hers are slowly fading, light and life fading at the clutches of your fingers. you breathlessly giggle at the moment you’re enjoying.

and she strokes your face. the look almost like she was in love with you.

chaeyoung grapples against you, nails digging into your collar, trying to shake herself off to break free and she falls against the wall. she’s limp, a smile still on her face. “y-y/n.” she croaks out one last time before slacking. you lower her to the floor, tugging closely, trailing your fingers over her pulsepoint, there’s nothing. no feeling, no breath, or sound.

she’s dead–

you immediately shoot up from the bed upright, chest heaving, gasping for air. a cold sweat is spread over your upper body. looking over to your side, seeing chaeyoung’s face in a fully relaxed slumber. still alive. a wave of overwhelming relief that is coursing through you, still trying to recover from the horror.

with a shaking hand, you part her lightly soft hair and kiss her temple once, twice, and a third time–each peck being more forceful than the last. you then press your nose to her hairline, the scent of lavender soap and flowers clashing with the cold under the covers.

“thank god.” you whisper. “thank god.”

chaeyoung wakes up that next morning to find you kneeling by the fire, your large, long hands bloody from skinning the wolf you slain yesterday. when you notice that she’s awake, you smile.

“you okay?”

“better,” chaeyoung replies, rubbing her temples. the throbbing sensation no longer there to the point where her vision isn’t blurring at the edges of her eyes, but still. she was worried at the recklessness that you pulled that made her drain most of her healing powers. the fortune of not falling into a coma–since it’s happened before (not to her thankfully).

“here,” you say, as chaeyoung continues to make sure that everything was alright with her body, handing her a hefty piece of meat and a thick piece of bread that was wider than her palm. “i cooked us breakfast.”

“you could’ve just had me do it.”

“i can cook too ya know,” you drawl. “the least you can do is say thank you.”

chaeyoung blushes, brought down back to earth as she reaches for the meal. the meat itself you prepared was tough but tender when she bites into it, the hopeful expression that you have on your face pushes her to light up with enjoyment. humming while nodding her head at the taste, you grin.

after downing the bitten piece, she asks, “is this the…?”

“the wolf? it is.”

“oh.” chaeyoung looks down, remembering the cuts and gashes spread across your skin, the dazed look in your eyes as you stared up at her. “i did it for you.”

“s-so how are you-”

“better, more than better actually.” you say brightly, lifting your shirt to show. “no scars. you’re really a miracle worker, chaeyoung.”

she blushes after this sudden compliment, “it was just a simple healing magic spell. a child would know how to do it.”

“either way, i thank you.”

your gaze was a little too intense, penetrating chaeyoung right in the face, so she looks down at her meal and scarfs down another bite. after cleaning up, you ask, “it’s actually a pretty nice trick to have.”

“what?”

“your healing.”

“how is it a nice trick?”

“well,” you begin, glancing at the skinned wolf you were working on and chaeyoung. “when hunters like me go out to hunt and come back hurt, it’s nice to have someone who can tend to their needs.”

chaeyoung blinks, struck at the sense of deja vu taking over her, but pushes past it, scooting herself closer to you. “and what is it that you’re implying? are you saying that i should be a wife for you?”

your glistening face shines with a flush, a rosy pink that chaeyoung is pleased to see. “it’s just the right, sensible thing to do.”

“a wife tending to your needs?”

“i-i didn’t mea–” you shift, turning your body to square with hers. “the whole role of me bringing essentials for you. like providing really.”

chaeyoung hums, remembering that her father did the same to some extent as well as her mother. “while i– i mean, while your wife does something to keep herself occupied like sewing?”

you chuckle. “yes. sewing or anything homey.”

chaeyoung’s eyes flutter away from you, heart thudding at how unbearably fond you look currently, trying to think of something to switch up the topic. “aren’t you more into well, guys?”

“nope. i despise men.”

“really?”

“not my kind of thing at all.”

she sits back on the seat, recalling the occasion of how the girls in her village would dress up nice with flowers in their hair–coming back all flushed out and drunk while you sat there with lips parted at the surprising activity that you didn’t even expect for her to take part in.

“i thought you said that your village was all girls?”

“it was! but we had various travelers visit and some of them were actually enticing to–”

“i don’t believe this! how did we talk about house roles to–”

chaeyoung notices that you’re blabbering about some nonsense again, but she thinks that you actually enjoy throwing her off with just pure randomness that’s coming out of your mouth.

“all im saying is that the hunter or person of the house provides for the wife while she stays inside and keeps the home nice and tidy! providing for the family is always the most important thing and you as a woman would know that!”

“did you just–” chaeyoung’s ears perk up at the word that slipped from your mouth. “did you just say wife?”

“what?!” you shout out, blushing. “i don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“i heard you loud and clear. whatever happened to calling me a demon’s bride that your hunters were so proud of yelling. did you happen to figure out which one i’ve sold my soul to yet y/n?”

“you’re not married to a demon,” you growl, striking the blade through the wooden table next to you. “i’d kill that demon myself if that were the case.”

“luckily, i’m not.” chaeyoung huffs out.

“good.”

after you say that, chaeyoung swivels to face the wall, mind racing at your words that were turning in her head. why would you two feud about something that isn’t even brought to fruition in the first place?

at the end of the day, you think that she’s a demon’s bride, she clicks her teeth together in a wretched scrunch. a loose end is what i am chaeyoung thinks.

the thought of you dreaming up your ideal spouse and have her play the role. from cooking your meals, caring for your wounds, and even sleeping together in the same bed. she–a skeptic, the runt of the litter, the witch–-not some esteemed woman from the kingdom. you had the audacity to call her a wife without even implying the term directly.

chaeyoung’s upright posture droops down at the realization that she was playing the role of your ideal spouse. it’s been that way for so long now…making fur clothes, hunting for the next meal, and keeping her warm…

you keep your back faced towards chaeyoung, finishing up the last of the skinned wolf that you killed the other day. a blush coming through as you huff out in distress.

hours pass into the evening, and when you slip under the furs, chaeyoung rolls on her side and asks, “i’ve been thinking.”

“thinking of what?” you say to her, wrapping your arm around her head so that she could get more comfortable. it should’ve felt weird, but it’s so natural now.

“about the family thing. the roles that we’re playing. romance. all of that.”

“that’s more like marriage,” you say, shifting your body to get yourself more comfortable, blankets slipping to expose both of your chests. “romance is different…almost like connecting with someone that you’re destined to be with.”

chaeyoung blinks. “i’m confused.”

letting out a sigh, followed by a light smile. “i see it to be weird, but romance is beautiful to have. to fall for someone even when you least expect it.”

“but…” chaeyoung starts, considering what you were saying, before shaking her head after. “besides that, what did you mean about the roles that a married couple would have? that’s what i’m trying to get at here.”

“why do you ask?”

“just curious, i’ve only heard stories from my mother about a life full of love and happiness.”

you then pull her closer to you, chucking beneath her chin with a smile that has so much endearment to the emotion. “i’d be happy to share a little about my life.”

chaeyoung taps the end bone of your clavicle, synapses conducting in her mind of a question that could pry a little more into you that you’ve kept so secret about.

“why did you become a witch hunter?”

you stare at her, face still at the surprise question. “it was the only way out for me.”

“what about your mother?” chaeyoung asks, refusing to imagine the kind of life that you brought yourself upon in the harsh ranks of finding and killing her kind.

you utter a laugh that’s filled with dead humor, eyes drawing bitterly and the urge of malice running through your veins. “she died because i couldn’t save her.”

“how did she die?”

air comes out of your nostrils, brows creased together in annoyance to the traumatizing memory. “what do you think? it was a witch that killed her.”

chaeyoung’s body freezes at this. “a-a witch?” her face creases after, “i’m sorry y/n.”

you pat her exposed shoulder, dismissing her apology without even saying a word. “my mom fell in love with my father who was in love with another woman. it sounds pathetic, but she went to a well known witch in our town who was a very reliable helper. well, that was the case if she didn’t ask for money like the greedy bitch she was.”

glancing at chaeyoung, a dark humor in your eyes when she meets yours with a silent trepidation, so you continue:

“my mom went to the witch one day with a favor, and the witch told her for a few measly coins, she could make the flesh on one’s body curdle off the very bone; rip the air away from their lungs; rot a beating heart. she was desperate, so the witch agreed. she wanted my father back if it meant doing things that costed a life.

“that’s–” chaeyoung’s voice rises then dips down to a faint whisper, almost trying not to have the dark one’s presence over them. “black magic.”

you raise a brow, looking down at her with much more intrigue, “you’re sounding that this is something that you don’t practice?”

“are you kidding?” she asks you, horror in her voice breaking through, “you’re–you’re not allowed to do that. if one crazy witch were to partake in practicing that art, you’ll die trying to get what you so deeply desired.”

“well, the price itself was steep,” you say, blinking repeatedly, “everyone got sick in my hometown and my father did everything to help. it was no use anyway, she died within the next week or so.”

“and…what about the witch?”

you break a smug grin, slowly piercing your teeth through as if you’ve been waiting for that very question since you’ve met chaeyoung, “you know what they say about revenge? it’s like a wish granted from the gods above. i saw that bitch minding her own business in the market, whistilng to herself. i couldn’t believe the sight when i saw her. she killed my mom, and she just went on with her day like it was nothing.” your voice becomes more grim, mouth curling, “like she was just a normal human being.”

chaeyoung’s heart flutters, like a bird or animal wanting to be let out of their caged barrier the way her heart was beating inside her chest. “so, what did you do?”

“i killed her of course,” you whisper. “she walked into the alleyway where i trailed her from the market. i remember picking up a blade of glass and everything that followed after: how she screamed, how i screamed, the hot blood flowing out of her neck, the heavenly sounds of her taking her last breaths. i wished that she lived longer, so that she could feel more pain.”

chaeyoung stares at you, speechless, breath siphoned out from the actions you just said. how could you be like this? she thinks, wanting to push herself away from you. but then again, were you anything else besides a monster?

you keep going:

“my father was never the same after my mother’s death. twisted from a normal man to a crossbreed of a monster and living corpse. he said if i were to become a witch hunter, it would make him proud. so i did what he asked, only for him to die as well not long after.”

“y/n, y-you–”

“i despise witches because of how they’ve taken literally everything away from me. because of their greed, the deviancy, i lost my mother and father. my mother, chaeyoung, do you have–” you take a sharp inhale, eyes darting to the window above you, tears welling up in your eyes. looking back after compiosng yourself, an accusation is spelled across your face. “you don’t know what it’s like to have that happen to you.”

chaeyoung huffs a bitter laugh in disbelief, “i don’t know what it’s like? do you even hear yourself right now?”

“some would understand.”

“you’re the one to tell me that i don’t have any idea how it feels to have your life ruined? to have someone barge in and destory everything that you loved and cherished? you don’t think i know what it’s like to be angry?”

“how would you know?” you demand. “since you think you know better.”

“because of you.” she says pointedly. “you are that witch to me y/n, you and the rest of your fucking hunters. you ruined my life. took my family away from me. you—”

“they were witches. they—”

“deserved it? christ there were children. diana was only seven!”

“she—” you stutter, eyes widened. “but they–”

“you’re saying that i desterved it then? what would you do if you were forced to kill–”

“i’m not saying that at all,” you try to interject.

“it could’ve happened! if i were killed like the rest of them, knowing what you know me now, would i have deserved it just because i’m a witch to you? where’s the honesty in that y/n?”

`you sit up staring at her, lost. because of her anger, she pushes you against the wall where the window was over the bed, expectant, but you couldn’t answer her. your jaw slacks, parted lips but close after. you only manage to breathe out her name before she’s decided that this conversation was enough.

chaeyoung whirls around to face the door, scooting herself to the edge of the bed, far away from you. eyes stinging with tears, “i’ve heard just enough. thank you for your illuminating insight.”

“chaeyoung—”

“don’t touch me,” she snaps at you, flinching your outstretched hand away. “i think we both should just go to bed. we’re done talking for today.”

you slither back down on the mattress and into the fur sheets, reluctant. chaeyoung can feel the burning attention through the darkness in the cabin, but only after about ten minutes, the deep slow tide of your labored breathing lets her know that you’ve fallen asleep. only then she lets the tears fall on her face.

she’s not qute sure how this very conversation came as such a daunting reality check—the loathing that you told her for her people the second they met, but—but it hurts. and it hurts. wildly. sensationally. every sob that leaves chaeyoung’s mouth was another nail on the cross she has to bear.

i thought you were different.

she curls in on herself, back against yours, biting into her fist to stifle her sobs and whimpers.

you were supposed to be different.

the idea comes to her very easily in the middle of the night.

madness of it all overcoming in a distressing thought present in her mind.

chaeyoung stares down at you, unseeing. furs fallen below the waist, and the moonlight creating shadows along your canvased body. the sight sparks a warm fire in her, but it’s all overpowered by horror, vitriol even.

take y/n’s knife, a voice whispers from within her head, sinister and insidious. take her knife and slit her throat while she sleeps.

she could—and she can. she’s seen you prepare your essentials before heading out for hunting during the day to the point where she knows where you keep your weapons–on the rack, near the door— and chaeyoung has all the cause to put into effect; the gods above know she has every single justification. it’s all so simple to do, all she has to do is just do it.

chaeyoung gets up and tiptoes to the clothing rack to the door, slipping your dagger away from your sheath with a trembling hand. walking back, each step heavy and slow, calculated even, crawling back to the bed and over you. through the dim moonlight breaking through the window, she can see your pretty face with relaxed sleep, lips parted with even breaths passing through. her heart leaps to her throat, almost like blood flooding upwards and aching.

she leans over you, pressing the jagged edge to your adam’s apple. gritting her teeth, she musters up all the courage she could and slices-

just as quickly as it would seem, your eyes shoot open. larg hands flying to chaeyoung’s wrists, rolling her over in a flash, pinning her to the first and squeezing painfully. chaeyoung bursts into tears.

you kept calm, chaeyoung on the other hand implodes at your touch, the waves of grief, rage, and guilt for not killing you, the guilt stinging even more for even wanting to end your life in the first place.

“i’m sorry,” she sobs out, shaking fitfully, trying to break free from your clutches. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.”

her voice cracks at the end, fading into thin air while you press your body close. shusing her by trailing your finger over her face and lips.

“it’s okay baby beast,” you breathed out softly. “there’s no need to cry, my precious one.”

chaeyoung’s hand curls around your firm bicep–trying to push you away, muchso like pulling you closer. you run your palm over her wet cheek, hushing her, crooning her name in a soothing tone, a gentle cadence until her sobs diminish into more short, hitched breaths. you trail your thumb at the beauty mark under her lip again.

“would it make you happier? to kill me?”

yes, yes, yes, yes, chaeyoung thinks, her heart pulsing more blood in her system. but no. no. it wouldn’t make me feel happier at all.

you don’t wait for her answer, slipping your hand over her trembling wrist and forces the blade upwards, securing the cold steel against the skin of your throat. chaeyoung is shaking earnestly now, her head thrashing against the mattress no, no.

“i can give it to you if that’s what you want. my life.”

“wait, y/n no please—”

“or—” you take the knife away from her hand, flinging it against the darkness of the cabin, before laying her palms against your neck. your eyes were dimming, fevered you would say. “use your magic on me baby beast. kill me with your magic.”

and—just for a moment, she tries to. staring up into your face and tries to remember how it felt from the first glance at you, what would have been ages ago, how so easy and simple it was for her to have enough hatred for you. the dreamy thought of setting your blood on fire, frezzing you to stone before cracking the skin into tiny pieces. the red cyclone in her chest, filled and fueled with loathing.

chaeyoung wanted you dead. to see you rot at her touch.

as that impulsive anger sparks, the regret washes through right after. she cringes away, curling her hands into fists that you bind back onto the mattress with just your one large hand over her head. she’s sobbing, her body shuddering with every dragged out exhale, and you’re hushing chaeyoung again, lips trailing over her face with subtle kisses. “chaeyoung, my baby beast, the beauty of my eyes.”

“i’m sorry,” she weeps out. it’s all she can say at this point. the sharp, agonizing remorse stabs her chest to no refreain, the way your team of hunters stabbed her sisters, the way you did. but she’s clinging onto you, tilting her neck when you kiss down beneath her jaw, sucking her pulse point. chaeyoung’s in too deep. she can’t undo this mistake if she even thought of trying.

“i’m not mad at you.” you go for another chaste peck at her chin, her eyelids, the slope of her cheekbone, the trail of her tears. “don’t cry baby, i could never be mad at you.”

in what way or world can she explain that this isn’t your anger that she cares about but her own? the pulses of tempered rage and grief still present in her mind, pins eating her up from the inside. chaeyoung wants to be angry at you so badly—it’s clear that you were the enemy, it shouldn’t be this difficult—but she isn’t, not really.

she’s just angry at herself and the weakness that she poses, how quickly it took for you to firmly place yourself as the one thing she needs in her life; one that she can depend on. she needs you now. so when you mouth down her face, she lets it happen-

willingly,

eagerly,

and whimpers once you two lock lips.

an unforgiving heaven, a cursed homecoming.

the piercing betrayal and sin that seemed to invite itself in. you groan at the first touch of her lips when chaeyoung finally opens up to you, blooming like a flower in this cold world. while your other hand was keeping her two hands captive, you stroke her wet cheek, chaeyoung clings to you.

“mine,” you breathe out, kissing her languidly, pressing her deeper into the mattress. mine. she fights the tempting laugh. how could she be so blind to this?

chaeyoung pulls you back to her lips, afraid of hearing you speak, and shimmies a bit when she feels the rough palms slide up her legs, feeling the fabric of her dress. once you were settled, chaeyoung gasps in your face from the sensation of your trousers ripping against her thighs, the flex of your hard muscles beneath her touch. she’s sliding a finger down your abs, nails catching the little divot of a v-line just meeting your waistband.

a swiped scratch from her and your hips buck forward, accidentally tapping her bare cunt. chaeyoung lets out a startled squeak from her throat, and you get the prompt to roll your hips into a slow grind. she’s throwing her head back, gasping, and wraps her arms around your neck.

“you like that, don't you?” you grin, rocking your upper-most thigh a little more with a refined pace. your eyes are lidded, fluttering with much more bravado. “i–it feels good to you?”

chaeyoung isn’t responding, only placing a sloppy kiss to your chin and continues to gyrate against your leg. the fabric of your trousers is starting to hurt her just a bit, but the ache is also gratifying. the justification not bearing to mind.

you begin to kiss lower, down to her neck and chest, where you pause to palm her breasts, the sparks in your eyes. sliding the nightgown up to the top of her waist and brushing your mouth around her abdomen, fingers exploring every dune and the plush skin of her thighs, forcing them like parting the sea of great moses. the heat is now presented in all of its glory between chaeyoung’s legs, the eagerness, all sense of rational thought no longer there. she whines when you press a kiss to her cunt.

“oh,” you sigh out, rapturous, and kisses her again. tongue hot against her pink flesh. the slick and wetness already on your mouth. “you’re so sweet, darling. i wish i could die doing this.”

and like someone who was deprived of water in the desert, you dive back down, feasting on her core, spreading her lips to lick up and down. keeping your ear open to listen for what makes the more noise out of chaeyoung’s mouth, neglecting the actions that doesn’t have the same praise. when you find her clit, her stomach spikes, the ecstacy racing down from her spine. you’re searching for it, like a hawk floating in the air waiting for it’s prey. her pussy against your plush mouth, sucking, nibbling, humming until you can hear her shrieks.

chaeyoung leans forward to look down, cheeks flushing hotly when she finds your gaze already on her, eyes meeting with greed. she feels the slide of your tongue in her entrance to thrust it inside her and she’s sobbing again, falling back, rocking her hips against your face.

“please,” she can hear herself begging. “god, please, please, please-”

“i need to do this again,” you growl in between sucks on her clit. the deep vibration of your voice sending signals through her body. “but if you want to kill me, do it like this, chaeyoung. break my fucking neck.”

there’s a pang of sorrow–guilt breaking through at the reminder, but this toe-curling pleasure is quick to replace it. you’re thrusting your tongue deep, laving at her fluttering walls. the sounds that chaeyoung is hearing coming out of your mouth is almost unholy, but it’s only increasing the anticipation. she feels as if she’s standing on a cliffside, the reveling sensation from the swoop of her belly as she waits for the fall; the imaginary coil–burning while it sits heavy in her cut to finally come undone. all that it’s gonna take is—

two digits of fingers sinks into chaeyoung’s core, rubbing upwards, your thumb pressing hard against her clit, and she finally breaks, sobbing as she clenches around you like a vice. you swallow the gush of wetness that follows through, moaning loudly, before crawling up to her shaking body to take her into your arms. the pusling sensation from your own core is staning itself with so much persistence, but you make no move to get yourself off. instead, you kiss chaeyoung’s face—again and again and again and agai—fixing your mouth to her ear, nibbling on her hanging lobe.

“i am yours chaeyoung, from when i am still breathing until the moment i die. this devotion of mine is all that i need.” you whisper.

chaeyoung huffs out a groan. she’s heard something like that from the wise women of the village that was almost another mantra.

devotion.

you wake up the following morning to find chaeyoung sitting up, blankly staring forward with her back against the headboard. eyes soaked.

a simpering grin spreads across your face and you scoot closer, taking her into your arms. she gasps, startled, but you press a kiss to her lips and swallows the sound. when she pushes back against you, you slide down, sucking at the delicate line of her throat. her fingers are clutching around your arm as she tilts her head back, choking on a sigh. you grin and drop another open chaste kiss to her collarbone.

“my tiger cub,” you whisper, clinging to her. chaeyoung twitches a bit, clasping a hand around your wist, but you twine your fingers to hers, pressing a hard kiss to the back of her hand and middle knuckle. her face crumples, almost if she’s pained that this is happening between you two.

but you’re an idiot, and you’re oblivious to this. staring at her face, the pinched brows and the baby pink curve of her pouty lips, you had to wonder when all of this had started to change. when did the sight of her—something that was used to fuel his hatred, a disdain that burned so hot within you–became so dear. loving chaeyoung now was the same essential as breathing.

you want to say the words. the words are primed against your tongue, and they are heavy. heart beating with a pulsing, wet mass in the mold of it.

“we should get out of here,” chaeyoung croaks out, suddenly, you smile, kissing the arch of her jaw.

“but where would we go? a vacation down south? i think the weather is way better down there and it’s sunny.”

“no.” to your surprise, her voice audibly cracks and she’s flinching herself away from you, shifting to the edge of the bed. she’s hunched over with knees to her chest and covers her face with her hands. “y/n, we have to leave.”

“why?” you snap, sharply. panic begins to unravel in the pit of your stomach, a chill coming over your skin. you want to hug her, have chaeyoung in your arms or seal yourself with her, but she’s distancing herself. chaeyoung herself is shaking her head in disappointment.

“because this isn’t—” chaeyoung suddenly surges to her feet and whirls around. your chest is caving in at the sight of tears on her face; you want to wipe them away, replace them with kisses. “w-what the hell happened last night? i don’t…this doesn’t make sense. i put a knife to your throat, but you… i can’t—”

“chaeyoung, calm down. what is that you’re trying to say?”

“i don’t understand us. what we have here doesn’t make sense. we’re supposed to hate each other.”

you laugh, the alarms in you not really ringing. is this really what she’s worried about right now?

“i haven’t hated you for a long time now, baby beast,” you say with a stern tone, amused. “and what happened last night was inevitable. that was the end result of everything that we’ve been working towards to.”

“y/n, i tried to kill you.”

pure thrill courses through your veins again, and you grin. “exactly.”

“what! are you actually insane?! i tried to slit your throat! i was going to!”

“and i would’ve let your. if anyone is going to kill me, chaeyoung, i wanted it to be you. only you. my life is yours.”

“so?!” she laughs out—almost like a sob even. “this is just some—s-some twisted marriage pact that you’ve created?”

“i didn’t create anything!” you argue. “what in the fuck do you think we’ve been doing?!”

“i don’t know! none of this doesn’t make sense to me anymore!”

you get off from the bed, stalking over to you. “i’ve hunted and protected you. i kept you warm in this harsh cold that nature has thrown at us. i’ve been the one who’s providing. this has never been about killing you since we got here. and it hasn’t been for a very fucking long time!”

“you should hate me!” chaeyoung shrieks. tears are rolling down her cheeks again just like last night. “you should want to kill me! last night when i had your own knife against you throat, you should’ve killed me instead!”

the mere notion of holding her in your arms while blood is leaking from her sliced opening, the blood on your blade is more than enough to send your head in a twisting madness. “i couldn’t. i would never.”

“you should. you’re supposed to hate me.”

“i don’t. if anything, i-i—” a raw, brazen courage crawls up your throat, and you speak before you could even think twice about it.

“i love you.”

chaeyoung shakes her head from the three words you just uttered stupidly—”i love you, chaeyoung.”

“that’s a fucking lie. no you don’t,” she sobs, bowing slightly with her head off to the side. “you don’t”

“it’s what i feel! you could tell me otherwise, but it’s the truth! i love you!”

“no! you hate me! you hate everything that i am! you think i’m a dirty runt-pig-whore and you’ve always have!”

“when did i ever say—”

“the first night we met! when the hunters tried to—you asked them if it was compelling to fuck a pig!”

“you–” you can’t believe she’s saying this. you can’t believe that you’re hearing this. “that was before i got to know you.”

“do you have to know someone before you compare them to a fucking animal!?”

your mouth opens, throat staining with the urge to argue, to reason everything that was entirely not true, but you remain speechless. the words are just not there. you place your hand over your face, fighting back the tears from coming out as chaeyoung wipes her own. her voice is more sorrowful, the tone quieter when she says, “you can’t love and hate me for what i am, y/n, that’s not how love works.”

“i don’t—” i don’t hate what you are, you want to say, but the daring lie stirs sourly in your mouth. of course you hate for what she is. her kind is the reason you vowed to see everything true to the end. it’s all hatred, and you were devoted to fulfill it.

“y-you are the exception,” you weakly say, but chaeyoung’s expression falls more, covering her face with her hands.

“this needs to stop. it’s not good anymore, this life that we built together. this false charade that we’ve been deluding ourselves into.” her words are falling to a more worked sob, and you swallow the lump in your throat, chest shaking. “i can’t play the role of your little wife anymore, y/n. we need to leave.”

you want to stand your ground. but you can’t argue with what she’s saying when she’s right. the rage screaming out to act angry. your expression is stoic and the you on the inside wants to bury your face into her stomach, begging for comfort, for her love, to stay.

but you do nothing.

instead, you stomp toward the rack next to the door and toss chaeyoung her wolf pelt.

“fine,” you start, putting on the layers of fur on your back with so much efficiency, “if you want to leave so badly, we can go now. get your shit together and let’s get out of here. i’ll be outside."

chaeyoung is left stricken, wide-eyed as she sees you storm out the door of the cabin and into the freezing cold, heaving out once reaching to the stump used to make firewood. tears are streaming down your face.

you fall to your knees that are met with the snow beneath and hang your head in shame.

the few days that come after that heated conversation are as tortuous as the first time you and chaeyoung meet.

you don’t even talk to chaeyoung. it should be relieving but it isn’t. when you and her walk, it’s in silence. when you sit near the fire to warm up, it’s quiet. when it’s time to get in the sheets of the mattress, it’s forced, but still silent. the cold aura is the same as the air around you.

everything stays the same however. you hunt for food and another place to set up camp while chaeyoung cooks and warms you with her magic whenever she can. the only big difference in the dynamic is the companionship; their fragile, tenuous truce—fruited with hope, once thick with craving—is now a searing rift. you and her are back to the start in all of this.

worse than, chaeyoung thinks, despairingly. now you can’t even look at me.

it’s another harsh freezing night. you are huddled over the fire, stroking the flame with the flimsy tin plate while chaeyoung is on the opposite end, shivering under the bundles of pelts, trying to encapsulate any warmth she could keep. normally, you would notice this and cuddle behind her, wrap your arms around her waist and have her back against your chest. but you don’t—the offering is no longer there anymore, and chaeyoung doesn’t even bother to ask.

once the fire is at a suitable height, you lean back and wrap your set of furs. chaeyoung is darting her eyes at you as you get your self comfy with the fabrics under your chin, eyes glowing in the flames and you turn over without even flashing a look at chaeyoung even once.

it’s no surprise or unexpected, but it stings. the feeling all the more present in its own right. chaeyoung bites her inner lip as tears sting the corners of her eyes. she wants to say something, a goodnight, to–to apologize, but the notion is near impossible to do. there’s nothing to be sorry about. she was right about everything that she said and she stands by it. she knows this. but still, the regret still lingers, chewing away inside her from the moments where the loneliness grows to great lengths, and now she’s wanting.

seemingly made fit of her to feel so.

“chaeyoung,” she blinks, startled once again, to find you looking over from the other side of the fire centered in the middle of you two, expression eerily blank. “you finished eating right?”

no, i couldn’t swallow anything that you made without wanting to throw it up in disgust.

“yes,” she whispers, nodding your head in acknowledgement before turning around again. chaeyoung listens to your breathing to be at a steady tempo before she allows herself the luxury of wallowing. once in the bed together, you were already fast asleep while chaeyoung cries into the wolf pelt that you made for her until she too falls asleep, restless and fitful from the growing pain within her.

a couple days pass, and you toss her a leg from a chicken to her for breakfast one morning, packing all of your supplies with a single goal in mind. you’ve grown antsy because you and chaeyoung were getting closer to a town nearby down the mountain range. the sea of trees slowly breaking and the wide river that was once frozen has traces of other campgrounds. it would only be a matter of time until they’ll be separated again. the knowledge lances through chaeyoung like an arrow to her chest. she can’t even fathom or build up the energy for guilt anymore.

the sun beams down in the highest point of the sky, warm on your faces, and when they run into an old woman. she’s on the way to the other end, holding a mailer’s bag that has herbs inside while she hobbles past. chaeyoung tenses up when she notices her, sensing that tie that’s binding the; that great power where they draw magic from.

but you were with her, and you might decide to be cautious on whether or not to sink your blade into this woman’s chest. blood on your face stained while chaeyoung watches and remembers the sights of—

that’s when the old woman looks up with a beaming smile.

“hello sister,” she says, walking over.” are you on the way to the nearby town?”

“i–uh—yes,” chaeyoung replies, “just me and my…”

she catches herself mid sentence, not sure of what to call you. wife? lover” dear god no—a sister? luckily for chaeyoung, the elder witch seemed to think something else otherwise.

“i’m assuming your wife?”

“yes!” chaeyoung says, taking your hand and sending you a pleading look. “my wife.”

beside her, you stand stiffly, tensing up to your shoulders, lips pressing to a pout and holding a breath while you grip chaeyoung’s hand tightly. to her surprise, you were actually more afraid than menacing.

“you girls look beautiful together! so when was the wedding?”

“about a month and a half ago,” chaeyoung replies softly.

the old witch gasps with delight. “that’s so wonderful! here, a small present for two.”

she reaches into her bag to pull out a fresh, purple lily. chaeyoung tries to turn her down, thankful for the kindness, but she’s insisting, shoving the small band of flowers into her hands. then she turns to you.

“you have a lovely, young bride. make sure you treat her well.”

“don’t worry,” you say, “i will. i plan to for as long as she’ll let me.”

there’s a damming glint of honesty behind that phrase almost revealing the whole act, but it sends tears to the eyes all the same. the old woman smiles and pats chaeyoung’s cheek.

“she’s a good one. you two behave now, alright?”

chaeyoung nods, laughing at the elder’s joke. she’s afraid she’ll stop crying if she stops.

just before the elder witch leaves, she points you and chaeyoung into the direction of the nearest town—about a mile and a half off and continues her walk up the mountain, waving goodbye in the distance. for a quick second, chaeyoung still has the fear that you would hunt her down and chuck an arrow into her back, but you don’t. you simply just continue forward, and it should be expected for you to act like a sensible humaning behind instead of a cult member—but this meant the world to chaeyoung.

while you walk forward with all of the belongings from the cabin on your back, chaeyoung sniffles just behind without you knowing, wiping away her burdening tears before tailing you on the trek to the town. you pause to allow her to catch up to you.

that said town that the elder witch pointed out. you are frozen solid as you lead chaeyoung through the busy streets, grip on her wrist tightening by the second enough to keep her from being overwhelmed by the new sights and sounds. once you two reach an inn, you get a room for the night, guiding her through the second floor to the room near the end of the complex.

unlocking the door, prompting chaeyoung to step inside and you follow after her. a soft click sounds off from the door shutting behind, but the sound sounds more scary much like a scream. the silence that fallos over them feels poignant, but dangerous like an icy chasm.

“i’ll go get a fire started,” you say, stepping towards the hearth set next to the kitchen counters.

chaeyoung takes a look around the big room, the large single bed and the draping curtains, grasping desperately for a distraction, but it’s hypnotic like getting lost in the smoky mist. she sits herself on the edge of the bed, palms against the bed frame, feeling the better sturdiness compared to the mattress back at the cabin. it’s softer than the one they used to sleep on, but still unappealing.

she knows that you would probably offer to take the bed and have you sleep on the floor, rather use your furs instead of sleeping next to her, the loneliness becoming more expansive before you or her even say anything.

the separation was necessary, and she knows this. it would be better for you to go your own way and meet up with the other hunters and for chaeyoung to build a new life, to heal and help others, but—

even though it might be the right thing to do, it hurts. a ferocity that’s paining her, she doesn’t want you to leave. the idea of saying goodbye, parting from you like the last month had never happened, stabs her through the gut. after everything she’s been through, the losses and suffering, it was too much to bear.

chaeyoung lingers on the bed, you knelt in front of the fireplace, shoulders hunched over. quietly, it almost breaks the silence that’s persistent but she could hear you.

“i’m sorry.” you say.

her heart jumps to her throat. she snaps to face you. “what?”

“i’m sorry,” you say again, stronger, and you also turn around. you look absolutely wrecked. “i’m sorry, chaeyoung. i’m sorry for hurting you. i’m sorry for ruining your life. i’m sorry for—for destroying your village and killing all of your loved ones. i–i’m just—i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

chaeyoung can’t even believe the waves of emotion that eclipses over her: the potent mix of rage and grief, stomach boiling with just pure unjust—heart wrenching sorrow. before she could even compose herself, she breaks into tears, sinking back into the mattress, wailing into her hands. you immediately crawl over to her.

you grab her knees, opening them apart, pleading eyes gleaming up with hers. “i’m so sorry. the words that i’m saying aren’t enough to say it wholeheartedly, but i am. i am.”

“why?” she sobs out through her hands. “why are you—?”

“because the idea of you leaving here is impossible for me to bear without knowing what i feel.” you take her hands away from her face, intertwining your fingers with her. “and— because i love you, chaeyoung. that’s been the truth for me for so long now.”

“y/n—”

“i won’t lie anymore. there’s so much about everything that i’ve been taught that’s been confusing me.” you start off with breaths becoming more and more shakier. “i’ve been trained all my life to kill people like you since i was twelve, and more than that, i’ve been beaten down to the point where i’m supposed to hate you. there’s still so much anger inside me that i don’t even know what to do with it, but…i’m trying. i’m willing to try. i want to be so much better than this.”

chaeyoung shakes her head, overwhelmed with the second confession, and you bury your face into her lap, fingers clinging to her skirt.

“and if you want to turn me down that’s fine with me too,” you say, the wrecked expression still wearing on your face. “i’ll-i–i’ll accept it. i’ll give you whatever you need in order to get by in this town and then i’ll just—”

she shushes you, lifting your head from her knees, sliding her palms over your cheeks. she’s staring down at you, the wet, colorful eyes and the stream marks from the tears slipping down to the midpoint of your cheek and chin. you have the face of a murderer. she’s seen it all. she’s seen what your hands look like when it’s riddled with blood, regardless of who or what it may be, and she despise you for now profoundly you can hate what you don’t understand, but yet—

the daunting fact, or realization of that matter was the point that she loves you too. chaeyoung loves you. you. she loves you despite the facts; she loves you because of it. it wasn’t the airy, light feeling that she’s heard from the older sisters back at the village. it’s deep and she’s being sucked down into it, clawing and twisting, maiming from within with so much force.

but love is hopeful. love is hopeful. loving you will always feel like taking a leap of faith.

and chaeyoung lets it all fall down.

she slides off the bed and into your lap, straddling you, cupping your face and wiping away the tears that are dried on your cheeks.

“this may be the one decision that i will ever make in my life, but i love you. i hate myself for feeling like this, but i do, and i think a part of me will always resent you for what you did, but–” a deep breath, shuddering her vocal chords and leans in to your angled jaw with her temple. “if i have to try every passing day to forgive you in order to love you then i might just have to do so. i think i can do that.”

“do you really mean–” you utter, the words are coming out of your mouth so fast they’re almost jumbled into one run on sentence. “you mean like actually—”

“i love you y/n,” she breathes out. “i do, i do, and i do.”

you bind an arm around her waist, crushing her towards you, kissing her desperately. chaeyoung meets you with the same fevored energy, burying her fingers into your hair to bring you closer, and closer, much more closer. tears dripping against her face and she’s kissing them away, the salt coating her tongue. “i love you,” whispering against your skin.

a broken sob breaks out from you, sliding your hands down to her thighs. you’re lifting chaeyoung, pressing her back to the rug beneath you, the light emitting from the fireplace, and you lower yourself, settling between her open legs. chaeyoung wraps them around your waist, hungry for the weight of you against her; frantically inviting you in; you can never be closer enough.

your lips break away from hers to track more open-mouthed kisses down her face, to her neck, lingering over her pulse. the hard suck pulling a squeaked whimper from her before soothing it with the wide of your tongue. the rolling heat sinks down more and more; chaeyoung is getting twitchy; the burn of arousal consuming her.

she’s all too familiar with it now. she knows that eagerness that’s growing within and she’s too embarrassed to admit this, but she’s fantasized about this sometimes while trekking down the mountains. chaeyoung imagined your mouth, the stretch of your fingers inside her, your tongue. she wants more of you, all to be deflowered at the touches you offer.

so she raises her hips to your thigh, grinding her core against her leg as she presses her mouth against your ear. “i need you,” she whispers out. it’s everything that you needed to hear out of her.

sighing out in response, you crush chaeyoung more into the rug on the floor with so much excitement. rucking up the nightgown and helping her, raising her arms to rip it off before tossing her on the bed again. the hitched breath with a hint of a moan once her body meets the mattress. your hands find her breasts, chaeyoung hissing at the sensation of your roughened palms against the hard buds of her nipples, massaging them, testing the perkiness of how petite they were.

your eyes were hooded, a twinkle sparkling through at the sight of her flushed cheeks at your touch. “can i-”

chaeyoung looks away, biting her lip at the notion that you were aiming towards. “well, yes.”

without thinking twice, you dive for her breast, kissing the ample flesh before enveloping a bud into your mouth. chaeyoung gasps sharply when you lave your tongue over it, the other hand continuing to feel the unoccupied mound. she’s searching for friction, and she’s not satisfied enough when your knee nudges against her clit. she moans loudly this time, insisting for more.

spurred by this desperation, you lift your lips from her breast with a chaste kiss before kissing down her stomach. chaeyoung knows that you’re planning and tries pulling you back up to her face, the impatience breaking through, but you hush her, the smile indulging at what she wants, what she needs. “let me have your cunt first, baby beast. i want you to be ready.”

you spread her legs, fingers parting her lips before licking up her core. the broad strip that ends at her throbbing pussy. she’s sobbing again, thighs tensing around your head as you drink her up mercilessly, head thrashing against the pillows. she is too ready for you, all riled up, so when you brush your mouth at her core again, she lets out a strangled cry, whining while she’s nearly ripping the hair off from your scalp.

the fingers haven’t even come into play yet, and she’s already on her first high. by the end of that, her legs are shaking, and she’s reduced to nothing more but mush. once you retreat your mouth from the swollen pussy, chaeyoung is whimpering at the loss of the stimulating feeling that you gave her, placing another kiss on her inner thigh.

she’s reaching for you, not meeting your eyes and her face is still flushed out. you kiss her palm, “i’m not going anywhere, my love,” you say, taking off your top and bra. chaeyoung sighs out when you fall back to her, fingers slipping against her entrance again, teasing her. the greedy entrance of her slick soaking your fingertips. she’s grasping your shoulder, silently pleading with her eyes from the fireplace, and you laugh–a small thing, but broken.

“fuck me chaeyoung,” you gasp, thumb pressing her clit lightly to let out another hitched moan from her lips, biting the inner part of her mouth. “i planned on—you said you were gonna leave me.”

her hands find your face again, and she kisses you, slowly and with so much passion. once she breaks away from you, she whispers, “i can’t.” not ever.

your gaze softens at the sight of her, sweet as sugar, and you slip inside her. chaeyoung’s breath hitches at the contact, fear tickling at the base of her throat, but you increase the quantity and it’s all the way.

the stretch of your fingers inside chaeyoung stings, but you’ve prepared her for it well. the slicked entrance makes it good, and it’s all too easy. it’s giving in much more than you initially thought. every knuckle reaches and you’re pushing, not faltering. within just a few seconds, she’s flushed at your fingers, sheathing themselves all the way inside, curling her g-spot. she clutches at you, moved by the same feeling from that one night, the sensation so familiar but new that she almost starts to tear up again.

mouth is parted, your eyes are lidded. chaeyoung is gasping at the sparks of pleasure that is searing at her gut and she’s increasing her grip on your. “please,” she whispers, bucking her hips at the hand inside her. “give me more, please.”

destroyed in rapture at the sight of chaeyoung’s lip parted open, head doubled back on pace from your thrusting hand, it drove you even more. you’re kissing into her neck, sucking away, harshly kissing again as your free hand trails over to her breast again, massaging the mound to add more to the already present wreckage that chaeyoung is going through.

“you feel so good around my fingers,” you growl out, another snap sharpened from the lips. “so tight. god what you do to me is sinful, baby beast.”

“like this–” she sobs out. “i want to be like this for you” she says fully, a laugh coming out of you that sounds like a trembling rumble that could strike her all the way down to her curled toes.

chaeyoung is still clinging at you, keening as you continue to pound her. in between sucks on her neck, you’re saying nonsense, calling her your sweet girl, my precious one: “my little wife and her pretty, wet cunt.”

the legs are clamping around your hand, the strokes becoming more and more jerkier, you’re seeking it out, pressing a thumb to her clit again, teasing to get the release faster, chuckling when she’s whining in protest. you’re rubbing a circle in addition to your thrusting fingers, and chaeyoung is biting back a shout, reading up as the rope in her gut is starting to tighten, contracting on the near edge of release. you’re trying to part her clenched legs.

you’re growling again, much more ferocity now. “you need it?”

“yes,” she whsipsers, eyes clenched shut. “yes, yes, yes, yes—”

with a pinch of a clit with your thumb and forefinger, chaeyoung is spazzing out, biting back a scream that would still be let out for the neighboring guests to hear, trembling. you’re still working her cunt with four fingers inside, the grip nearly strong enough to break your fingers, biting her inner thigh until she calms down at your touch, the pace slowly dissipating.

you slide your fingers out, crawling over to chaeyoung’s side before collapsing on top of her, the weight almost crushing, but it’s welcoming, wrapping her arms around your neck. she’s kissing thetop of your head. “i love you.”

“and i love you too,” you pant out, tapping her shoulder. “but i’d hate to get you worked up so soon after hearing that, baby beast.”

chaeyoung lets you roll off her body, slowly, before turning on her side to face you. the soreness creeping through as the flickering glow of the fireplace sets shadows against the planes of your toned frame, the hard muscles and turns your skin to a golden bronze, radiating like the sun.

she’s smiling at you, brushing her thumb against your sweaty cheek. “my sun,” she whispers out.

you take her hand after, “my wife.”

tears are flooding her eyes, streaming down to her cheeks, but you caress her before kissing the stained stream away. when you pull back, chaeyoung is also happy to find that you were crying too.

“what’s on your mind?” you ask her.

you, chaeyoung thinks. this is insanity to every definition. all preposterous to every front.

but she doesn’t want to ruin the air with her worries, so she answers, “you think the other guests would mind after what we just did? or do you want me to have my turn at you now?”

you blink at her, stunned, before lying on your back which gives chaeyoung an opportunity to slide on top of you. kissing away at your body to find all of the spots possible to get your buttons going. you roll over with her between your arms, smothering her lips with another kiss from yours.

“i could give less of a fuck if we get a noise warning this late at night.” you say, and chaeyoung is laughing against your mouth.

“make sure your eyes are closed, okay?”

“y/n, your hands are over them.”

“but that doesn’t mean that you can’t keep them closed. oh shoot—wait, wait hold on.”

chaeyoung squeals, startled, when she feels your hands slide behind her back and knees, binding her up against you carrying bridal-style. she hears the sound of a swinging door open and your voice, flush against her ear with a smile breaking through saying, “okay, baby beast. you can open them now.”

so she does and gasps immediately with awe, clinging to you while you put her back to the ground. her eyes are flickering with awe over the kitchen, the large hearth, the furniture, it’s all spread around the open space. she turns back to you and kisses you, hard, keeping her arms wrapped around your neck.

“you did all of this?” she breathes out, “but where did you—”

“of course,” you say, too satisfied. “i managed to buy some of the pieces from a couple of sellers, but most of the other stuff is from me.”

“oh. was it too much to buy in the first place?”

“no, not really. remember that i have a little bit of cash to spend.”

chaeyoung nods, taking care to not mention how you managed to get that kind of money, tugging your hands along the open space. “show me the rooms.”

you grin, taking her hand and leading her down the spacious hallway. you open a door and lead chaeyoung inside, the smile more apparent now when you hear her gasp again. a large bed sits against the wall, the headboard made of metal sprawling, thick roots that may look like they come from a tree. there’s a sitting nightstand with a neighboring drawer in the same corner. chaeyoung stumbles back on your chest, hand over her throat. “i-i don’t know what to say.”

“do you like it?” you whisper against her ear.

“i do. i do. you know that i do.”

“we have two other spare bedrooms.” you say, kissing the curve of her jaw. “maybe we can put them to good use.”

“what are you thinking of?”

you hum at the sight of the unoccupied bed, lips pressed against as you bury your chin on chaeyoung’s shoulder.

“we can always move stuff around, but i’ve been thinking about helping.”

“helping with what?”

“there’s a building here around town that is helping with those who have been ripped away from their families, orphans.” you say. “some of them have the potential to create magic i heard.”

“but don’t you want to have someone that’s able to hunt?”

chaeyoung turns towards you, smiling into the kiss again while your hands are tied at the endpoint of her back. “you did say i wanted to teach someone my magic.”

“so you want to adopt?”

chaeyoung hums, considering the plausible offer you presented. “let’s adopt. it’s always better when there’s another besides the two of us.”

you grin with triumph before lifting chaeyoung again, tossing her to the bed. she’s laughing, accepting your weight easily as you press her deep into the mattress, blooming like a lovely flower.

love. love is powerful. it can change someone in ways that no one would expect.

devotion. the pledge for a cause that’s unwavering and has a similar meaning to love.

sin. it’s damming, but you’ve committed worser crimes in your lifetime that will get you to that warm home of hell eventually.

loving chaeyoung, doesn’t feel like a sin at all.

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hwabyul4wheesun

~Hwa~

She/her • ‘04 • doesn’t know what she’s doing Loves Mamamoo a lotDoesn’t know why she’s talking in third person about herself Loves reading fanfics of any girl group

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