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sanarkeo · 2 months

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your body’s speaking my language

chaeyoung has a bit of a god complex and lights up some candles for valentine’s day.

alternatively: she grants you freedom in the form of a restraint. dom!chaeyoung x f!10th member of twice!reader - wax play - praise & degradation - bondage - exhibitionism (again, yes! 😇) - edging - branding sorta kinda - chae with the strap in a tokyo love hotel - religious themes - this reaching 5k words ouuu...

happy belated valentines day to @nr1chaedickrider and every other chaeyoung lover out there <3

chaeyoung doesn’t know this, but you have frequent dreams of the same exact scene. the most recent, hazy permutation had you looking through stained glass cut to no holy figure, and onto yourself kowtowing to a woman in the church you haven’t visited in ages. your perspective shifts midway, and your breath is stolen from your lungs the moment you lay eyes on her.

and it is corporeal, the sting of scraped knees against herringbone floor, flowing white rayon restricting skin meant to be bare. it is divine, to look up upon her, sitting cross-legged on a pew, a smile that reaches her eyes and the baring of canines, multicolor light reflecting off them like jewels.

this is beauty reserved for sightings and yet here she is. her touch is salvation and her lips pressed against your forehead is resurrection. at last, she is encircled by blinding sunlight, the deep brown of her eyes being the last to fade to white.

what chaeyoung does know is that once in a while, in the middle of the night, you’re heaving, hands anxious for something to hold onto, eyelids screwed shut. and she brings you into her embrace, more often than not subconsciously, and mutters sounds, her hot breath tickling the tips of your ears.

when you are awake enough to grasp what’s happening, and grieve the dream that’s slipped away, sometimes you weep. that someone like her is real and has her arm draped over your hip. it breaks you.

it half-explains why you squat down as you hand the girl - now tucking sunglasses into her seat-back pocket - your underwear in an airsickness bag. chaeyoung receives it in her expectant hands and leisurely opens her purse to slot the folded bag in. she’s still for a second, looking at you like she has something to say, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.

instead, she slides forward in her seat and tilts her head to give you a kiss. as she pulls away, you can see the reflection of the plane window in her irises. you take in how the oranges and blues courtesy of the altitude shade her tattoos.

“sit down, babe,” she says with a knowing glance, before taking her phone out and swiping through notifications.

even if everyone else can’t see, you feel your nudity under loose cream trousers. shuffling back to your seat, you have half a mind to cover yourself with a blanket and satisfy yourself. you recline and jerk in your seat, if anything to get some friction going. chaeyoung notices this in her periphery and holds your wrist, her pointer tapping on the back of your hand with a calculated rhythm.

“okay,” you squeak, and it sounds like an apology.

“I got a surprise for you when we reach shinjuku. you can wait a bit longer, right?" chaeyoung asks, raising an eyebrow. you nod and she hums. “thank you. you’re being so good for me today.”

you smile, giddy at the praise, and scratch your reddening cheek. it’s like she’s put you in a trance ever since she knocked twice and slid open the privacy screen to regard you with a shaded expression and a singular request. it’d all been automatic; from when you unbuckled your seatbelt to leave for the lavatory to when you stumbled just trying to get your panties off as quickly as possible, not a single hesitation kept you from flowing from one action to the next.

“is this… for valentine’s day?”

chaeyoung taps her nose but pulls her headphones out to shut you up. you’d known something was up when the girl became dismissive every time you brought up valentine’s day, and more so when she messaged about tickets to haneda for you two to arrive in japan a few days before the group was even scheduled to be there.

as soon as the seatbelt sign lights up, chaeyoung grips your forearm and lets out a light whimper. after the plane lands safely on the runway, and as the people around you two rush to get their carry-ons, chaeyoung slides her fingers down your arm to intertwine them in yours. she brings your hand up and leaves lipstick on your knuckles.

she’s a bit of a scaredy cat on airplanes but when she takes your hand and leads you to the cab, a swarm of fans and flashing lights trailing behind you, you follow without a word.

the music is so loud you sense the bassline thump through your chest, and as the saxophone screams you feel your fingertips buzz against the condensation of your highball glass. you’ve always wanted to come here - a charming little bar in a basement rumored to have been a brothel decades ago. a post-industrial but amber-lit haven for live music. the kind of crowd who won’t care who either of you are, with their swaying silhouettes and muffled conversations drowning under free jazz. chaeyoung and you are caught in the middle of their current with a perfect sliver of privacy.

“how’d you know about this place?” you swirl your glass around before taking one last gulp of the cocktail. ice pressed up on teeth sends a shock through your gums.

“i’d be a terrible girlfriend if i forgot about you mentioning this.”

you shake your head: “no that was ages ago, like, even before-“

“so? you know i’ve been fucking obsessed with you ever since our debut.”

you dig up a blurry memory of legs crossed on a cramped dorm bedroom floor, the scent of nail polish and a commotion of giggles and joke-threats, and remember how hard your heart pounded opening up to girls older than you about something so niche and uninteresting. it isn’t the sound of her that you can recall - it’s a vignette of a set of plump lips with a mole set under it, a little to the side, mouthing: “i’d like to go there too.”

the pianist’s solo is sprightly and with every note that blooms, a sense of anticipation grows in you. you look across the checkerboard table, past wine red pillar candles, and find chaeyoung’s unwavering focus on you. with each tap of her thumb on a cheek bathed in plum-colored light, the ivies snaking her silver ring twinkle. the music shifts with the reintroduction of smoky cymbals and a staccato rhythm.

it’s not that chaeyoung looks incredibly different now, nearly a decade on. her unbleached, jet black hair and doe eyes let you easily picture the girl you sometimes saw as a trainee, walking past you in the corridor or being aspirationally whispered about with friends. but when your eyes flitter down to her lips, you decide the shape of them has changed together with the entire idea of the woman, somewhere along the way.

for so many years you’ve only observed them. they were full and pinkish and a dimple forms right by them whenever she smiles. at one point, you used to envy her, innocently thinking about how unfair it was that fans could fall in love through a single laugh. one night many years back, as you watched the reflections of the night in the han river, you played with the idea that your heart could be hers too, if only in another universe. any bitterness leaves your palate when she leans over and closes her eyes.

you love her new lipgloss. it’s slippery and tastes like summer berries.

your shoulders heave now, and all these new associations now cross your mind. how warm her lips felt pressed onto the side of your head while you bawled in her arms, fearing the unknown and yet fearing knowing. how orange they looked under the sunset that summer she brought you to her relative’s farmhouse, so telling of their experience after she’d convinced you that maybe kissing wasn’t all that bad if you didn’t kiss men (and kissed her instead).

you’re distracted by how they form an ‘o’ as chaeyoung lifts a candle off the table and blows it out. a trail of smoke is sucked into the air and dissipates above her head. you remember the heat radiating from her mouth when she licked the tears that streamed down your face after the first time she made you cum. you recall how aggressively red and swollen they can get, with the image of her biting down on a leather whip after she’d marked your skin for an achingly long period of time.

she swirls the hot wax in the indent for a while then seizes your wrist, her thumb heavy on your pulse point. she flips your arm and drips molten red along the back of your hand. her teeth look severe in this bluish light. there’s a fire behind her eyes. you yelp and jerk to snatch your hand back, but she doesn’t relent, shushing you and immediately dropping the candle, letting it rock to a halt. a couple pairs of eyes shift to look in your direction.

“chae…” you let out, and wonder if it sounds more like a cry or a moan.

“oops.”

chaeyoung gingerly picks off each matte bead and flicks them over at her neglected bottle. there’s the lightest dotted line of discoloration that she slides her lips across when she holds your hand up. it stings even more now, and your tongue gets lodged in your throat. closing your eyes, you silently mourn the loss of all that sensitivity you had on the ride to the hotel. you regret being so sensible when she led you to the restroom of the hotel lobby, and let you know you had her permission to put your underwear back on.

“i hope you’re not already dripping wet from that,” she says, cleaning her fingertips with a napkin and turning to grab her coat.

you wonder if she gets off on making you feel so insanely aware of your arousal. you don’t think you’re wet, but you’re pressing your thighs together and gripping at the fabric of your pants.

“i’m not.”

chaeyoung gets up off the stool and slips into her navy blue trench coat that’s a size or two too big. she raises her eyebrows at you and knees the chair back in.

“whatever you say, babe,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky.

she shrugs and burns you with a stare before turning on her heels to leave. you scramble to get your jacket on, nearly forgetting your clutch as you rush to follow her up the stairs. the music diminishes behind you and you strain your neck to find familiarity in her, but you’re greeted by a kaleidoscope of colors and lovesick couples letting loose in the streets. her small frame and stature make it all too easy for her to be lost in a crowd. the air hangs thick as you journey down the maze of bars and restaurants and you curse yourself for not paying enough attention in those japanese lessons.

then, you spot her, twirls of hair softening the sharp, piercing lines of her face. as soon as you pause to take a breath, chaeyoung’s fingers close around your wrist and she wrenches you into movement. she navigates and guides you through alleys with her hallmark assuredness. once you reach a dead end, she slows and turns to you. between shuttered shops, standing on the prismatic sheen of damp asphalt, she lets you go. her skin is porcelain under the light from a distant streetlamp and the depth of her eyes, now cinnamon brown, remind you of the first time you confessed to her.

it’s like she senses your wonder, because she takes you by the waist and pushes you against the concrete brick wall. your heels scrape along the road and droplets of water hit your ankles. chaeyoung’s angling her chin up, her eyes gazing down upon you like you’re nothing to her light. she unzips your jacket and pushes up your top and your bra. your hardened nipples hit the cold air and the breeze that settles on your skin causes the hair on your back to stand on end. she scans your body, choosing to pay no mind to your tits, nor to your wanting mouth.

you look to her, eyelids trembling, and state the obvious: “chaeng, someone’s gonna see us.”

“who cares? i’m having you wherever i want you,” she snaps and rolls her eyes.

she slides her hand into your pants, her touch slightly clumsy, her fingertips cold against the dip of your hip. then, she parts your legs and presses onto a particularly sensitive spot on your inner thigh. the pad of chaeyoung’s thumb grazes against the slightest series of bumps in your skin and you swear you can picture it from candid photos and images framed in mirrors. it’s visceral, the memory of the searing pain of needles punching into your skin, injecting ink into you for good.

chaeyoung is softer, gentler now than she was then. for one, her nails aren’t sinking into your other thigh like claws into prey. you remember the crazed expression locked in her eyes when she grit her teeth and drove the tattoo machine to trace the outline of a strawberry you’d drawn on a transfer sheet. you were glad the alcohol worked as a mild anesthetic when it happened but it made you bend over a toilet bowl that night when the post-adrenaline fear and pain hit and you puked your guts out.

“you’re mine, remember? anywhere, everywhere-”

you can’t stand the distance between her hand and your cunt, so when fingers reach your clit, a raspy sigh leaves your lips. she massages it with perfect pressure before sliding a finger along your folds, lowering it momentarily into your slit.

“you’re right. you’re not wet enough,” she tugs her hand out of your pants and brings it up to spit on her fingers. you’re not capable of coherent thought right now, any witty response will come out as a series of stammers. her hand disappears again and two slick fingers plunge into your hole.

“f-fuck, oh my god,” you whine.

her tongue slips out between her teeth the same way it does when she’s focused on writing lyrics. she’s said that every song she’d written had been about you and you believe her by the way she hits and presses against every sob-inducing stretch of your walls. even with her slow thrusts, your moans get so loud you’re worried someone might hear.

“you feel so good, so, so good in me a-ah fuck!”

“you’re so fucking cute.” she squeals at the little whimpers that escape your mouth. you start panting and she tips her head, licking and sucking on your tongue. “yeah? is my perfect girl drooling for me?”

she quickens her pace and absolutely buries her digits in you and you groan, throwing your head back at how she fills you. but in the midst of this impatient intimacy, footsteps, a group of them, echo in the background, coming closer to both of you. removing her hand from your cheek, chaeyoung grabs the lapel of her coat and conceals your body. with a sharp turn of her head, a narrowed gaze dissects the scene behind her.

“salarymen,” she huffed, pivoting to lock eyes with you again. “they’re all drunk as shit, they won’t remember this.”

you don’t know if it’s the cold or how magical it feels to have chaeyoung’s fingers fill your pussy once more, but you’re delirious and the thought of strangers seeing chaeyoung fuck you senseless in a grimy alleyway drives you wild. you buck into her fingers and her cold ring stings against your clit.

“i’m gonna- i’m-”

“oh you’re cumming soon?” she nods and moves closer, her nose pressed on your cheek, her breath hot on your neck. “my sweetness is cumming soon?”

“chae!” you go off on a succession of curses, each word laced with disbelief as she pulls her fingers out of you. you dig your nails into her shoulders and try to shake her, but she pushes her shoulders hard up against you. she licks your juices off her fingers, savors the taste of it, and you watch her swallow, the eye contact constant and unnerving. your lip quivers and you shield your face with your hands, head still reeling over your denied orgasm.

“still not wet?” she chuckles and pulls out her phone to snap a picture of you, reddened cheeks and messy hair, your tits still exposed. the flash blinds you more than it should.

“public whore.”

“tmi? i had udon tonight~”

being an idol necessitates acting. you hadn’t expected this part of the gig when you’d first auditioned as this naive, bumbling thing, but found repressing emotions and shelling out little white lies as second nature to you. news sites and forums brand you as polite, nearly to a fault, not knowing how much practice you’ve gotten suppressing any negativity. but keeping quiet at family dinners and forcing high-pitched laughter on tv shows chips away at you. feigning obedience in a sea of believers, arms constricted in periwinkle sleeves, ground you down to a paste.

“no, no, i can’t give any spoilers for the next comeback,” you huff, pouting for the camera.

this - nonchalantly responding to comments and recounting a day that never happened as a bullet vibe hums in your hole - feels nothing like that. it’s a show you’re putting on with your favorite audience and favorite performer. and she stares you down from the other side of the hotel room as she adjusts the straps of her bra. the blood red floral lace of her two-piece complements the expanse of watercolors and scribbles etched into her body. you swapped imagining sheep for counting tattoos in the dim of the night when she’s passed out right beside you.

chaeyoung is delicate and rough and terrene. but you’re looking at her too intently and she clicks her tongue, picking up her phone to drag a slider button a little to the right. the vibrations ramp up and you start to sway back and forth. you feel yourself leaking even more now into the blanket that’s covering your bare legs.

“a-ah- it’s getting quite late now…” you’re fumbling with your phone, tapping the back of it to mask the muffled but noticeably louder buzzing. “maybe i should go to bed?” your eyes dart to chaeyoung and she blinks at you, unfazed. the golden glow emanating from floor lamps and tapered candles light her hauntingly. her apparition is breathtaking and distracting and your finger hovers over the x on your screen because the need to kneel before her now is painful.

“what? don’t go, we’ll miss you?” you giggle at the message but you feel this tension build inside. and your walls clench around this tiny little thing buried shallow in you, the slightest movement away from coming out covered in your juices. you wonder if anyone can tell how hot and bothered you are, or if they knew you only had a shirt on.

you purse your lips and feel your heart swell just seeing her folding her clothes and dropping the pile into a suitcase on the floor. you didn’t even know how that got there. she whips her head up to look at you, her countenance still inscrutable.

“i’m sorry, i h-have to,” you apologize, half to your fans, half to chaeyoung. you adjust your position, the vibrations now reaching your clit. “i have to go.”

there’s always an element of suspense that builds in you whenever chaeyoung controls you like this. it makes you want to keel over when there’s too much of anything going on around you. you felt understood as soon as you stepped into this unassuming building and saw how plain and normal the room looked, sans a pale yellow carry-on and a st. andrews cross.

“don’t worry baby, we’ll get to that later,” she had said just after walking in, looking over her shoulder as she plopped onto the pristine bed. thinking about that now, you squirm.

they can’t understand. you suppose no one can get your relationship til they’re changed by her the way you have been. her words are apocalypse and you’d waited your whole life to bear witness to someone who can make you sober. how she slapped sense into you the same day you turned twenty, and how for the first time in a long time, in that same pitch black room, you let yourself be attracted to another girl.

they can’t speak to the rush you got when you first gave her a peck on the cheek in public, can’t describe how you felt when she brought you to a park just before it closed to kiss you under towering oaks. won’t know the cramps you got from laughing too hard after they’d chased you out. they don’t know this isn’t your first time in a love hotel, can’t guess the number of times you’ve had to hide marks and bruises from everyone else.

it’s paradoxical, how you find freedom and safety in her, but son chaeyoung’s a kind of contradiction. she’s frustrating yet patient, got a line of carrots tattooed when she was high but planned all year to get this amphibious monster cradled in a bed of spikes on her back. all you can ever be certain of is her care for you. she adores you to no end and it’s suffocating, the way she looks at you like you’re her love of the century.

a notification pops up at the top of your screen - a message from your manager: “you don’t look well - are you okay? you should end the call before anyone gets worried.”

“i’ve been lacking a bit of sleep recently so i’ll rest well now,” you reassure your viewers. “please don’t miss me too much? you can see all of us at the yokohama stadium in a few days.” a flurry of hearts and well wishes come in from the bottom of your screen and you wave at the camera before blowing a kiss.

“bye everyone!”

after ending the live broadcast, you hurry to text your manager back, reminding her that next time you’ll give her more notice in advance of the lives, and yes, chaeyoung will take care of you because you’re definitely catching something. you look warm. your cheeks are flushed. of course you’re running a temperature, what else could it be? chaeyoung saunters to you, taking your phone and setting it down on the dresser.

“you weren’t supposed to end it so soon. i barely even got started,” she rests a heavy hand on your shoulder and exhales. she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. the air that enters your lungs doesn’t have enough time to stay in there before it’s expelled. you hear the buzzing as loud as you hear her. you’re so close.

“take off your shirt, go to the bed and spread your legs.”

“yes, chae.”

as you shuffle there, you feel your wetness between your thighs. you dispose of your top near the foot of the bed, get on and present yourself to her. she’s just standing there, back straight, arms to her sides, but it’s eerie and intimidating. there’s something animalistic in her eyes whenever she asks to observe you like this. her sight shifts between watching as the vibrator slowly slides out of you, and searing eye contact. your legs tense and you arch your back, the thought of chaeyoung making you cum without even touching you driving you so close to the edge.

“it’s too early,” she grumbles, and takes a step to pull the vibrator out of you. the slightest, plainly intentional brush of her fingertips against your clit makes the loss more unbearable. “i think my favorite girl deserves a present first.”

while chaeyoung switches it off, you bring your knees up to your chest and shudder. whimpering, you peek over at your girlfriend and find her gaze following the glistening trail of your fluids as they traverse sluggishly down her forearm. you shut your eyes for a bit, letting your heart rate slow but soon feel her weight dip into the side of the bed. chaeyoung combs through your hair and massages your temples while she pushes something matte against your arm. when you finally open your eyes again, you find a pastel pink box sitting beside you.

“open it, princess. it’s for you.”

the heat in your lap settles and you sniffle, tossing the crushed velvet ribbon aside to reveal a leather restraint. it is supple yet sturdy in your hands. just seeing your name embossed in gold on burgundy hide makes you light-headed. chaeyoung takes the restraint from your trembling hands and cocks her head up, wordlessly ordering you to stand. you rise to your feet with a practiced efficiency, turning around to face the only mirror in the room head-on.

“my baby. you belong to me.” with the restraint in one hand, she fondles your breasts and buries her face into your neck. the leather scrapes your nipples and you let out a prolonged moan. “look at how much of a slut you are. you just want to be fucked, don’t you? controlled, like a doll.”

“i do.”

chaeyoung slips the collar around your neck and fastens it, the buckle resting a bit too snug. she tugs at the strip of leather connected to it, just to get a yelp out of you. your arms slide through pliable loops, followed by your wrists. and at last, she has you with your hands secured behind your back in an impossible grip, any struggle to set yourself free choking you at the same time.

“my prettiest pet.” hooking a finger into the d-ring of your collar, chaeyoung drags you down to the ground then holds your head up. “you’re gonna be a good cum slut for me now, okay?”

a nervous giggle escapes your mouth and your mind races, eyes searching for some clue in the room. your lips naturally fall to a pout and raise your hand to settle it on her arm, your thumb rubbing into the constellation on her wrist.

“kneel.”

you nod, shoulders slumped, and adjust your weight to settle onto your knees. chaeyoung beams and rips her arm from you to collect a lit candle from the dresser. her rouge pink eyeshadow shimmers when she’s towering over you like this, the flickering light casting dancing shadows along her jawline.

“open your mouth.”

she cups your chin in her hand and you can hear her getting choked up. the flame grows longer, burns more brightly, and you can just about peer over to see a pool of translucent white wax surrounding it.

“stick your tongue out.”

you extend your tongue and start to pant. your eyes flutter close when you see chaeyoung dip the candle down and cry out as you feel the first bead of wax land on your chest. she pours the wax indiscriminately over your torso, pinpricks of fire sparking goosebumps all over you, leaving uneven streaks and blobs of cream-white coating your tits and abs. you have this itch to get the wax off your nipples, but your hands are useless. it isn’t as hot as it’d been at the bar, but it singes and the heat spreads to your shoulders and down to your stomach.

“i’ve always wished i could cum all over you like this,” she coos. through half-lidded eyes, the lamp light forms a halo around her. “wish i could make you walk the streets and let everyone know you’re taken.”

“i’m all yours, chaeng.”

chaeyoung tilts her head and smirks as her fingers crawl into your mouth to pry it open. you feel her knuckles and joints against your teeth and gums, her nails digging into your cheek. your tongue wraps around her pointer and laps at it.

“you want that so fucking bad don’t you? want to look so filthy for me?” her lips slowly curling into a smile, chaeyoung drizzles the hot wax over your cheeks, scorching your neck and your collarbones as they drip down.

“fuck.”

to her, you look holy, defenseless, ruined. a waterfall of soy wax cooling and cracking on your skin. her favorite canvas in the world biting her lip at the stinging and tightness that constricts her chest. chaeyoung snaps out of her daze and blows the flame out.

“get back on the bed. face down, ass up.”

you hang your head low and fall onto the bed, no arms to brace your landing. with your chin digging into the pillow, you ram your knees into the mattress, forcing yourself up into chaeyoung’s favorite position. deep inhales and the lengthening of your spine keeps you sane waiting for her to get it over with and just fuck you. with your other lovers, this was your time to mentally prepare yourself and dissociate. with your exes, you’d lay still and draw imaginary circles on the ceiling as they entered you. with chaeyoung, every beat that her hands are off you is downright misery.

“you just love taking time, don't you?” you snicker and score the material of your restraints with a nail.

and suddenly your field of view is replaced by the darkness under a silky cloth, and a knot is tightened at the back of your head. you feel chaeyoung running her fingers through your hair before taking a fistful of it and jerking your head back.

“trust me you’re gonna need time to prepare yourself” she jokes, slamming your head back down into the pillow.

the sound of straps being tightened and the clearing of a throat makes the blindfold more of a punishment. in your head, you’re going through all the toys chaeyoung keeps in that box under her bed. the bed creaks as she climbs on and you feel the bones of her knees hitting your calves. a hand wet from lube lands on your ass with a smack, the other guides the head of the toy to the entrance of your puffy, wet pussy.

“did you get this wet from all the cum i gave you?”

chaeyoung licks her upper lip as she holds the base of the toy, stroking your clit to your hole with its tip then slapping it against your cunt. you want to fold just from the sheer weight of it. she grabs hold of your waist and slides the entire length of it into you. you know you’ve never been stretched like this and you let a yell out in satisfaction. chaeyoung stills in you, letting you get used to its girth, how full it makes you feel, not knowing that you probably never will. she leans forward and presses her forehead onto your back.

“take my strap, you fucking whore.”

it’s carnal, ferocious, how she begins to thrust into you, all eight inches pumping in and out of your pussy. you suck air in through clenched teeth and sink your cheek deeper as your mind grows foggy. without fingers to grasp onto the bed sheets, you grip them between your molars and bite down hard.

“rghhh- fuck!”

whenever chaeyoung bottoms out in you, her fingers inch closer to youri stomach. she pushes down on your belly to feel the shape of the toy form then vanish, her grip getting even more possessive.

“taking me so well.” she whines looking down at the base of the toy coated in your white slick. “so tight and creamy around me-”

it pains you to not see her as her toned abs flex with each thrust, not watch her intense gaze fizzle out and be replaced with something much more tender.

“i need you,” you plead, but it’s muffled by the fabric.

chaeyoung pounds into you harder and deeper, and she abandons your waist to cling onto your restraint. as the friction builds and your yelps grow louder, she reins you in and pulls out to spit on the toy. then she slams it back into you and you cry out in pleasure.

“oh my god, i f-fucking need you!”

as you near your climax, every part of your body is pushed to hypersensitivity. the wax that peeled off your nipples rub against the sore buds every time she penetrates you. chaeyoung pins you down with her weight, the lace and heat of her chest melting into you, making your shoulder blades ache. your clit throbs and the walls of your cunt clamp around her strap. you swear it’s getting bigger, like it’s growing within you.

“cum now,” she growls.

chaeyoung drives down into you, fucking you into oblivion, when you feel a gush of ecastasy take over you. you spasm around her strap, milking it with your pussy, until she pulls out, making you fall back onto the bed. your thighs quiver and your toes curl while you flood the blindfold with tears. the aftershocks of it make your head spin and you whimper when you feel your girlfriend get off the bed.

she pulls the cloth off your head and laughs at your bloodshot eyes. your eyes fall to the dildo right in front of you, and the sticky mess you made on it dripping down to the floor. seeing you take deep breaths and your drooping eyelids, chaeyoung holds you by your collar and awakens you with a slap.

“not even close to being done with you, babe.”

a fire reignites in chaeyoung’s eyes. she leads you to the cross and rushes to free your wrists from the restraint, letting the bulk of the leather hang from your neck. your wrists, now an angry red from the senseless fight you put up, taste freedom for not a second before they’re hoisted above you head and locked onto each corner of the cross.

“i can’t do this…” your muscles scream with the memory of strain and you cry out as chaeyoung backs away from you to rest her legs on an armchair. “chaeng!”

slowly, her hands reach behind her back and she unclasps her bra, revealing her tits to you. arching her back, she slides her panties down and discards both articles to the side with mild annoyance.

“look pretty for me.” she spreads her legs, letting each one dangle over the sides of the armchair. as one hand reaches out for your phone on the nearby dresser, the other snakes down her abs to arrive at her clit. chaeyoung swipes to the camera and positions it to snap another picture of you, hung on a cross. the flash blinds you less than it did before.

“like you always do.”

so i realized i got 600 notes on my first fic which is kinda crazy... thank yall so much 😭😭

#wlw #sapphic #lesbian #twice smut #chaeyoung smut #chaeyoung x reader #twice chaeyoung #chaeyoung x reader smut #twice x reader smut #twice x reader #chaeyoung imagines #twice imagines #valentines day #but make it late

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