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biscuitblinkeu · 8 months

Text

To be Loved

Fluff • Abuse • Smut

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader -> Requested

Word Count: 6885~

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence, soft NSFW

Prompt: Soulmate AU with spoice— (reader is shorter than Rosè)

A/N: The long awaited one shot… yeah. I’m on my knees type of sorry for how long this took to get finish. Also, spice starts near the end— SJDHFHDHDJDJ don’t tell me anything about it, just let me fade into existence LOL. It’s not my strong suit, so bear with me. I hope you like some part of it anon! 😭🤞🏽

Soulmates were such a complicated concept. They could be born many years before or after one another; die before meeting; fall in love with someone else— thus breaking their tie; or right out reject their fated pair. They could be halfway across the world, or live in a completely different society than your own.

There were those who didn’t believe in Soulmates, those that thought the system wasn’t fair. But what was fair about fate? It was just a way to bind two people together. Forever. You either got lucky or you didn’t, there’s no in between— soulmates are simply a random occurrence. And the world was too cruel to give everyone the same happiness.

You were one of the few people who didn’t believe in soulmates despite the evidence they were real being all around you. You didn’t believe in the fairytales from poets, the grand, romanticized adventures about those looking for their fated pair, those who traveled across the world, suffered many hardships, and finally, by the wonderful power of destiny, found their other half.

It was all a joke to you. It was unhealthy, too. Imagine spending almost your whole life wishing upon a dazzling shooting star for a soulmate to take you away from the loneliness and the imaginary scenarios, making them true, only to find out they died or broke the tie. Or to pathetically plead to the otherworldly force that created soulmates each year for someone to save you, to love you, for it to not be answered?

It was your own personal experience— something you believed to be a forever thing.

It wasn’t.

The crescent moon grinned down upon you mockingly, its light illuminating the streets. Everyone seemed to always have a destination in mind, somewhere they knew they had to go. You were always lost.

A bitter wind nipped at your face and hands, and you pulled your scarf up more.You looked at the heavy brown-paper bag in your hands and sighed, you had to go back home. Those all familiar feelings bubbled up inside of you once again: hopelessness; fear. These feelings made you hurt, they were empty feelings that just seemed to grow bigger everyday, making it harder for you to have control. You clenched your fists to stop the shaking, even dug your nails into your skin. It didn’t help.

(Even if you did right, you’d still get punished).

That’s how it always started: the trembling. It started from your fingers and made its way through your body till you’re shaking. When you shake you no longer have control of your nerves. If you’ve lost control of your nerves, you get dizzy. Then you’ve lost the ability to breathe properly… and you drown.

You ripped your gaze away from the bag that held bottles of tequila and champagne and forced your feet to move forward. Though, too caught up in trying to prevent yourself from getting overwhelmed, you failed to notice the wild animal scurrying on the sidewalk in front of you. A shriek left you and the bag in your hands dropped as you jumped out of surprise, its contents smashing and spilling out on the floor and your shoes. The smell is strong, and you wrinkle your nose.

There goes your chance at having a peaceful night.

You hope they’ve fallen asleep and forgot. When you’re walking up the driveway you saw that the lights were still on. They’ve just forgotten to turn them off. They’re asleep, you told yourself over and over as you're unlocking the door.

They’re not.

Your mother was still perched on her soulmate’s lap, just as she was when you went out, looking at you expectantly. Your eyes darted to the floor, and a quiet, shaky breath left your lips.

She noticed your hands are empty and her face falls. You could see the burning color appear on her cheeks— she’s angry now, and in front of her soulmate you’ve embarrassed her?

“Excuse me,” she murmured as she slid off his lap. She walked past you, heading to the hallway, and even though she doesn’t verbally tell you to follow her or do any type of gesture, you just know to follow her.

You’re in the hallway, and oh, what a hazardous place to be in. Your eyes darted around the small corridor, taking mental notes of what looked sharp and what could bruise you and what might— “(Y/n).” Her voice was cold and it made you jump, she gave you a what-the-fuck look. “Where are our drinks? Where have you gone to take this long and come back empty handed? Where’s my money? Where has it been spent?” She bombarded you with questions.

“I had them, but…” Should you tell her you were a klutz and dropped it?

Well, you’re unable to anyways. The moment your mom scrunched her nose up with that glint in her eyes you knew what was coming, yet you weren’t ready for it. It was just so fast.

A heavy, hard smack collided with your cheek, knocking you off balance to the ground. The trip wasn’t so smooth as your back dug into the sharp dresser edge on the way. You held your cheek, blinking rapidly as pain assaulted your senses. God, your head was spinning, your ears were ringing, and your face burned. You bit your lip to stop any cries. Tears pricked at your eyes and you refused to look at her, your gaze trained to the polished wood boards.

Your mother has already come up with her scenario, her answer instead of hearing you out. (Not that the outcome would be any different, but maybe less harsh).

“So you decided to drink it yourself, huh?” She scoffed, rubbing at her temples like you were an annoying headache. “I knew I smelt something… You naughty little girl, that was ours!” You still smelt like the alcohol, meaning you must’ve drunk theirs, that’s the only reasonable conclusion, right?

You saw her coming closer to you. She grabbed a handful of your hair and you yelped, forced to stand up. Your legs scrambled for grip underneath you and as soon as it’s gained, it’s lost when your mother’s knuckles collide with your jaw on the same side of the slap. She was not going easy on you, and you deserve it. You deserve this, because this is what you get for not paying attention.

Your vision blurred for a moment and you finally let a cry escape your lips. “Mom!” Your mother rolled her eyes and practically manhandled you to your room, her nails digging into the side of your waist and arm with a bruising grip as she pushed you forward. “Mom! Please stop, it hurts!”

“Good,” she sneered, fingers digging deeper into your skin. You whimpered in agony. “You had one job…couldn’t even do that.” You’re scared, everything hurts, and you're beginning to tremble again, and this time, maybe you’ll welcome the panic if it’ll give you something else to focus on.

She pushed you onto your bedroom floor and snorted at your state. “Go to bed. I don’t want to hear anything from you.” Then she slammed the door, the sound ringing in your ears.

You didn’t have the energy to drag yourself onto your bed, and would rather not risk making things harder for yourself, so you curled up on the ground. The sharp smell of cigarettes lingered in the air, causing your nose to sting, each shallow intake of air more stuttered than the last as you began to weep. The gash on your cheek was painful, and the feeling of a wet sensation let you know that the skin was broken and bleeding.

You can’t do this anymore.

You've seen how hard it is for people with mothers and fathers that aren’t soulmates. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. You’ve experienced it first hand.

Your mom and dad weren’t soulmates, just two people that stopped trying. Ever since your mom found her soulmate (Evan) and broke up with your dad, you were able to see your mom finally in true love, yet your dad was broken. His soulmate, who died before they could meet, awaited him in the afterlife. Not long before they broke up, it was like the Universe decided he had nothing else to live for if not with his soulmate, and he passed.

Since then, Evan stopped you from finishing your studies to stay home and take care of your mom and the expected baby. The miscarriage was highly unexpected, and you’ve been the punching bag since. Your little brother's death was traumatic for them, and they couldn’t come up with a reason why it had to be that way— so it was pushed onto you.

It’s your fault, your mom told you; you should’ve taken care of her better, Evan had said, she was too stressed out because of you. You’ll never find your soulmate, they said, creating the first crack. You're unlovable. Useless. Who could ever love you? You’re here because your soulmate left you.

(It was then you realized you couldn’t rely on a soulmate to save you).

With your studies discontinued, your life plans were shattered. You've been forced to live with your mom since your dad died, having no other place to go. You’ve hopped from job to job, saving up money to leave and get back on track, but they take it away from you anyways. You're stuck.

That’s why you decided to run away.

When Evan and your mom retired to their room, you waited a few hours, then snuck out of your room— for the first time grateful for not having a lock— with a bag packed. You always kept some funds away from your mother, funds she didn’t know about, and today you would use them. The downstairs was quiet, and you made sure to stray away from creaky floorboards. You turned the corner, flinching upon seeing Evan in the kitchen digging through the fridge. You needed to go through the kitchen to get out. His droopy, unkind eyes settled on you.

“Hey,” he said, frowning as he put his cup down. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your room?”

When he took a step towards you, you bolted, running past him and throwing the door open. A moment later the same door flew open, and you realized he was chasing you. “Hey! Fuck— get back here!”

You ran harder, barely getting air into your lungs as you turned corners and ran through streets, bumping into people. When you no longer heard his voice yelling after you, you switched into a slow jog, then a tired walk.

You walked a few blocks, then entered a café to rest.

You glanced around the room, noting how cozy it was. It reminded you of how your grandma’s house would have a homey atmosphere; old family photographs hung proudly on the walls, soft music playing from a record player, and the air scented with something that made you warm. There weren't many customers, and you figured it was close to closing.

You hung your backpack over a chair and sat down, resting your head on the table, taking a much needed break. You would order a drink, but didn’t want to inconvenience the baristas since they were cleaning up. When you felt your eyes closing, you reminded yourself to leave before

they closed.

It wasn’t long before you slipped into a nap, the comforting atmosphere lulling you deeper, and ignored the almost overwhelming feeling in your heart. You ignored the tugging sensation on your index finger too.

“Excuse me,” a voice whispered, accompanied by a soft tap on your shoulder. When you didn’t respond, she lightly shook your shoulder.

You flinched awake and she furrowed her brows. “Hi, I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you, but it’s closing time and…” She trailed off.

You couldn’t believe Rosé from Blackpink, global kpop star and ambassador, was in front of you. You took note of the khaki, bear-printed apron she wore along with a name tag,p: the café’s uniform. But more importantly, why was she so much prettier up close? Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, and a couple strands were left out to frame her face. Her eyes were a soft but narrow shape, giving them a natural innocent look, and her nose was perfectly straight and sculpted. The bit of freckles that graced her nose and cheeks made her even more breathtaking.

The ever so reddening of her cheeks let you know that you were staring far too long.

You quickly stood up and unhooked your backpack from the wooden chair, slinging it over your back. “I’m sorry,” you apologized almost immediately, as if it’s out of habit. Your eyes darted back to the floor, and she felt her heart break.

Something clearly wasn’t right.

“I’ll leave now…thank you for waking me up.” Without waiting for her response you started to walk away, unable to endure her curious gaze any longer. Though, a hand wrapping itself around your wrist stops you in your actions, and prompts a quiet gasp to leave your lips. Her touch was electric. You turned back around, trying not to dwell on the warmth encasing your wrist, and faced her.

Why did she just grab you? She, too, looked shocked. Her cheeks dusted with a light pink as she looked away from you. Did she feel it too?

Looking down, she noticed the harsh blobs of purple and green peeking out from your hoodie sleeve and her heart jumped for a whole different reason. They were shaped like fingerprints— like someone grabbed you violently. At the realization, she was momentarily rendered speechless.

She only had one thing on her mind, and it wouldn't be right if she ignored it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked down briefly before looking you straight in the eyes. Her eyes soft with concern, she asked, “Are you okay?” Immediately, you tensed up. You inhaled sharply, attempting to steady yourself by taking deep breaths. “You’re hurt. Who did this to you?” She pressed.

There it was. You could feel tears building at the corners of your eyes, and she definitely noticed. You tried to speak, but your tongue felt too heavy to form coherent words. “I— I’m…” You're fine? You injured yourself?

“Please tell me, I need to know.” Her voice was stern yet laced with a gently concern. You weren’t getting out of this. Her hand loosened its grip, but didn't fully let go. Did she know you would bolt the moment she did?

Your vision started to blur, and you blinked rapidly against the incoming stream of tears. It’s all you can do to keep yourself together. One part of you wanted to tell her, wanted to spill everything, the other held you back and wanted to tell a lie. You shouldn’t burden her. You could take care of yourself. But you couldn’t bring yourself to utter those words.

Noticing your inner turmoil, Rosé backtracked, and apologies were leaving her mouth in a rapid rush. ��Sorry, I’m so sorry. That was very rude of me. I’m Chaeyoung. You are?”

You sniffled, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “…(Y/n).”

She smiled lightly. “(Y/n)? Your name is beautiful, I love it. Now… I know I was really forward just now, but I’m worried about you. I can’t just leave this unattended, I— I want to help you…if that’s alright.”

“Help?” You repeated quietly. The word felt foreign on your tongue, even more so hearing it applied to your situation. Usually people looked the other way, not wanting to get involved or merely too scared to. And you’ve gotten so used to it that you felt you weren’t deserving of help. Now, you bitterly wondered why it took so long to come to you, especially in times of need.

“Yes. Do you want my help?” She asked again, softer.

God, yes. Yes, you want help. You could only nod your head, a quiet sob leaving your lips. You hid your face, self-conscious in front of her. Suddenly, you're engulfed in a warmth, such a comforting embrace, and it only makes the tears fall harder.

“It’ll be okay,” she murmured, letting you cry into her chest. She was taller than you, her chin resting delicately upon the crown of your head. The feeling of being cared for washed over you, easing your stress for a minute, allowing you to take some time to calm down. Her scent filled your lungs, and you could have sworn you smelled a floral mixed with vanilla.

Once you calmed down enough, you pulled away and managed to whisper a hoarse, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Now, can I know what’s going on in order to help you better?”

After that short moment, you told her - a stranger you surprisingly felt you could trust - everything. You told her about your parents, getting chased as you tried to leave the house, and the origin of the bruises. You kept it brief, however, and once you explained the details of your situation she offered to take you to the hotel she was staying at.

You were hesitant to leave the café, fearing your family was searching the streets for you, she called her manager to get the two of you and you waited inside. While waiting, she asked you a few things about yourself and exchanged some things about her.

You learned that she had a “complicated" job that left her restless at night, hence why she was helping out at her friend's café. She was humble to a fault, telling you about her friends and how grateful she is to have the opportunities she has now, too.

It wasn’t long before her manager, a young-looking, friendly woman, greeted you when Chaeyoung opened the car door and the both of you slid in. You’re not good at small talk, but she was a natural at it. It wasn’t long before the conversation flowed freely and you didn’t have to pretend. She made you comfortable.

There was a lull in the air, the only noise being the car’s engine grumbling and the wind whipping by the slightly lowered window. She turned to face you fully, and you shifted in your seat from her gaze. “Do you know who I am?”

You bit your tongue at the question, not expecting it— at least, not this soon. (Was it obvious?) “I do. I mean, I may have seen your face on a few products and billboards.” You pinched at the fabric of your pants, not realizing you were beginning to frown. “Is that okay? I’m not trying to...” Intrude; leach; burden.

She cut your rambling short with a chuckle. “That’s fine,” she assured. “It doesn’t change anything. I want to do this.” It honestly scared her how much she wanted to help you.

She has been warned multiple times about “normal people”.

They’re different, all they see is your fame, you on the stage, what you have and what they don’t.

She has been used because of her kindness, taken advantage of and lied to. Threatened, even. But somehow she knew you weren’t like them. She was acting on a feeling she couldn’t explain.

The feeling she has searched for her whole career, perhaps. She pushed the thought to the back of her brain— it was the least of her worries. Now, she needed to make sure you felt safe.

You expected she stayed at a quality hotel, but just seeing it— such a large, grandice building, was mind blowing. It was nestled between a street lined with high end brands and local restaurants, drawing eyes. Nonetheless, you didn’t feel any envy towards her. You knew she had worked hard to get to this point in life.

You followed closely behind Chaeyoung, the guards at their post by the main entrance, intimating you with their blank expressions and bold stances. They gave her a singular nod as she passed, their eyes lingering on you for a few moments with masked confusion. You smiled wryly, imagining how it must look to others, and readjusted the facemask her manager had given you.

You didn’t want to cause any problems for her.

Chaeyoung was a natural at conversing with people, something you lacked in, greeting the receptionist with a smile and small talk. She had just finished laughing at a joke. “Is there another room available on the same floor as mine?” She asked, glancing at you. You furrowed your brows, confusion reflected in your eyes.

The receptionist clicked around the computer for a moment. “Yes, there is. Are you trying to rent it?”

“I am,” she replied.

“Okay can you state the guest name and residency? Or are you buying it in your name?”

“In my name—“

“No!” You blurt suddenly, coming closer to the counting. You turned to her, shaking your head. “I can…I can pay for it, Chaeyoung. You’ve already done enough for me. I can’t ask you to do anything more.” There was something in your voice, pleading, which caught her off guard. Why were you so against it?

She tilted her head quizzically, her lips pursed together. Oh, she would spoil you. She smiled. “No, I can’t let you do that.”

You were flustered, calculating how much she would have to pay: a whole lot. It was definitely pricey for your current funds, but you didn’t care. You didn’t have to stay long… “But it’s only right—-“

”I want to. So please accept, okay?”

Realizing she wasn’t going to back down, you gave up. (For now). “…You’ll at least let me pay you back after, right?” You really didn’t like owing people.

She pretends to think about it for a moment. “Nope, c’mon.” She grabs the keys from the lady and leads you to the elevator.

The ride was silent, and Chaeyoung didn’t seem bothered by the lack of interaction. On the other hand, she realized you had a lot going through your mind. That much was obvious from your lack of expression.

Once she returned to her suite, she would contact Alice or her family for connections to lawyers. Abuse was a touchy subject, getting you to open up would be difficult…

The suite was luxurious— spacious and lavishly decorated with high-end furniture, plush carpets, and drapery. The living room was furnished with comfortable sofas, armchairs, and a coffee table. The large windows offered breathtaking views of the surrounding city. Further in, the bedroom featured a king-sized bed with premium linens and soft pillows, and the lighting is carefully curated, creating a warm environment. The bathroom had marble floors and walls, a deep soaking tub, and a separate rainfall shower.

You re-entered the living space, completely shook. Wasn’t this too much?

Chaeyoung sat on one of the island chairs, swirling around. “Nice, isn’t it? I recently started booking with this place. They have 24-hour room service and a private chef upon request. There’s also a private lounge, spa, and fitness center— but I hardly have time to use those services anyways...”

“It’s… definitely nice.” You couldn’t begin to imagine the price for one day—

“I’m happy you think so, I want you to be comfortable. Are you hungry?” She was already grabbing her phone as she asked, a pamphlet in her hand.

You shook your head, only to be betrayed by your stomach rumbling. She laughed, and the sound made your heart stutter in your chest without warning. She had a cute smile on her face as she beckoned you over. “Not hungry, hm?” She teased.

“Maybe a little,” You said then, your face heating up slightly due to the embarrassment. She smiled wider, typing in the Suite’s website and clicking on food service.

“What would you like? This place is really famous for their pastas and stews, but they have almost everything here.” She started listing off items, going from the most popular to the lesser popular dishes (they’re all expensive either way). Halfway through the selections you stopped her, finding a simple meal that was the least expensive yet filling.

“Can you add the pho and salad to the order? I’m paying for it. You don’t need to spend more than necessary on me.” A stranger.

She frowned at that. “But I’m treating you, still.”

“I know…but you’ve really done enough for me. I can’t ask for more,” you were adamant.

“You can,” She emphasized. “In fact, I want you to. And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I was the one who wanted to bring you here, and I have more money than I know what to do with, so let me pay for your things, please. I want to do this, let me take care of you.”

You bit into your tongue, mulling over the situation. You knew at this point she wouldn’t let anything go, she’d just insist, and insist, and insist, coaxing you to comply with her lovely smile, and her kind eyes, and her gentle tone that never fails to have you feeling so warm.

“Okay, fine,” You said, and immediately a smile was pulling at her lips, that cheerful mood she had before coming back as soon as it faded. “On one condition: you at least let me pay for the food— yours too.”

“But—”

“I need to do something useful, Chaeyoung. It’s killing me, so just this once, please.”

“Alright,” she reluctantly agreed, almost hesitant to even let you type in your card for the order. “Just this once, and this time only.”

“Yes, yes, thank you,” You finally smiled.

The hotel staff didn’t take long preparing your orders, which is likely expected of such a fancy place like this. The servers came in with a trolly and placed the meals on the table. It looked and smelt delicious, and you and Chaeyoung ate right away.

Sometime while eating, Chaeyoung called for your attention. “Hey, (Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

You paused, bringing the utensil away from your mouth. You took in a breath, steeling your emotions. “No.”

She almost choked. “Can I ask why not?”

At that question you became quiet. Even more so than before. Soulmates— there it is again.

Everyone seems to talk about soulmates; finding their perfect someone, and it seems Chaeyoung is one of them. “I don’t.” You answered, smiling wryly. “A long awaited destiny finding your other half? It’s…it’s really nothing but a fairytale.”

“Oh. Yeah… I guess it’s a little childish.” Once you saw her expression drop more, that look of concern on her face, you glanced away and started stuffing your cheeks with rice again. You shouldn’t feel guilty for opposing the idea— everyone’s entitled to their own options, yet the crestfallen look on her face gave you a pang to your heart. You felt you needed to explain why, and you did.

“No,I didn’t mean it like that… it’s not childish to believe in. I just— I know they’re real; and it’s great if you find yours and you’re happy,” you began, finding it hard to express yourself. “I just think the system isn’t fair.” What you didn’t say, however, is that sometimes it’s a waste of hoping and dreaming. You’re bound to get tired of it, to give up after a while. And giving up hurts the most, because it means accepting you won’t have that happiness.

“I see,” She murmured, given your response. She smiled again, but you could tell it was lacking. “Well, let’s finish eating. The food is getting cold.“

“Right.” You both ate in silence after that. The mood was heavy, filled with awkwardness, uncertainty, and just— something. You didn’t understand why, however. Why is she so caught up on that rare concept? Why does she care if you believe in it or not? You really couldn’t understand her.

Chaeyoung was standing outside the door, returning to her own suite. “I sent you a text from my real number. If you need anything— don’t hesitate to call me, no matter the time. I’m just down the hallway.”

“Okay,” you nodded. Then she left you alone to your own devices.

You decided going to sleep would be the best course of action. You avoided checking your phone, worried that even though you’ve turned off your location they’d still find you.

Just sitting on the king-sized bed made you drowsy, and you were glad Chaeyoung was helping you, because it surely made you feel safer. It wasn’t long before your eyes grew heavy and your breathing evened out, and you were happy to sleep peacefully.

However, it was short lived by rapid-paced banging on the door. Still in the bedroom, you heard the door knob jiggling aggressively, and a few murmured voices. You flinched, immediately reached for your phone to dial a number. It rings twice before she picks up. “Hello? Chaeyoung?” You call anxiously, circling your knees up to your chest as you sit on your bed.

“Yeah?” She answers lightly, her voice evident of sleep, and as much as you’d hate to rip her from her sleep, even if she said she didn’t mind, but you had a problem.

“Someone’s—someone’s banging on my door. I don’t know what to do. What if they get inside? What if it’s my mom? What if they hurt me? I tried calling the security but I got no answer. I’m scared.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll be over there right away. Stay in your room for now, okay?” Chaeyoung hurried down the hallway, mindful to not keep you waiting.

In front of your door, a man in a suit slumped against the wall, the hotel staff fussing over him. “Sir, you’re drunk! You’re disturbing our guests, this is not your room. Let us…”

She let out a sigh of relief, knowing the problem wasn’t serious— but still felt tense knowing you weren’t aware of the situation. When the staff got the man off his butt, she knocked on your suite door. “It’s just me. I’m coming in, okay?” With that, she cracked open the door slowly. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw you curled up into a tight ball, crying softly in your bed. Without hesitation, she walked over to the corner of your room where you sat, taking a seat beside you. You leaned back into her arms with a sniffle, looking at her with tears welling up in your eyes. The sight made her want to hold you tighter. “Hey,” she whispered, rubbing your back. “It was just a confused man, he had mistaken the room number.”

“…Really?” You sniffled and pulled away slightly, half-embarrassed you’re relying on her again, half not wanting to leave her arms. She made you feel safe.

“Yes, the staff took care of it right away. I’m sorry you had to experience that…” She was frowning, frustrated it had to be your room, that you were probably scared out of your sleep because of it, and that it might’ve resurfaced some of your trauma. It pulled on her heartstrings seeing you so shaken up and anxious.

“Oh,” you nodded, instantly feeling calmer at the news. “That’s good.”

“It is,” she agreed.

You quietly cleared your throat, realizing the death grip you had on her shirt. Heat spreaded across your nape and face. In front of Chaeyoung, you felt like a middle schooler with a crush all over again. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

“For what?” She asked.

You fiddled with your fingers unconsciously, avoiding her soft gaze. Did she truly not know? “For coming here— for everything.”

Chaeyoung wanted to shake her head and deny it— she did it out of her own violation, afterall, but instead accepted your gratitude. “Of course.”

Something has been on her mind for a while— your presence demanded her full attention; and despite not knowing each other for more than two days, you’ve managed to make her a mess— she felt like she'd do anything for you.

“What’s that on your finger?” She asked, her voice a low murmur. It was a red string, tied into a neat little bow, the other linking end tightly wound around her own finger. Her lips parted in shock, realization donning her features.

“What do you…?” You looked at your finger, only for your words to die in your throat. You stared at the foreign string, heart pounding in your chest and blood rushing in your ears. It couldn’t be.

“You’re my soulmate,” she murmured, sounding so undeniably happy.

“No…” you whispered, shaking your head. It was useless, though, because the evidence was there. You suddenly felt the need to escape Chaeyoung’s embrace— your soulmates embrace. Before you could attempt to get any farther, another step— there were a pair of arms quickly wrapping around you, pulling you against a familiar chest in a tight, tight, tight embrace. It's warm, unyielding, and you were trapped completely— you couldn't get away even if you fought. "Chaeyoung," you started, sucking in shaky breaths, trying to not get drunk by the close proximity. "Y-You said I'm—I'm yours. Your—soulmate?" You get out, half coherent and half blubbering.

She understood you nonetheless, and hummed in acknowledgment, holding you a little bit tighter. "I did," She confirmed. You hadn't even realized that you’d started crying— but you were, and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks. They're salty, and they're bitter with disappointment, yet above all they're filled with relief.

You’re soulmates, she said.

The rare, one-time chance concept of being a fated pair— having someone in the world that was meant for you and you alone, your complete significant other, where the world pulled you toward them until that bond is broken by choice. It was a lot to process, and it changed just about everything, but—

“I’m here, and we can take this at whatever pace you want. I know it’s hard, very sudden, but… I want this. I want you, if you're willing to accept me.”

…. ⚠️

“You look so beautiful tonight,” Chaeyoung told you, following behind you to your shared bedroom, admiring the way your dress hugged your body. It was a black fitted dress that showed off your shoulders and figure. Your hair was tied up loosely with a pink ribbon.

She changed after the show, wearing something much more comfortable, but still looked amazing.

You flushed, beginning to take your jewelry off at the vanity. “That’s the fifth time you’ve told me that,” you said, a smile present on your face. “But thank you, it makes me really happy. I should say I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you were dancing. It made me….” You trailed off, finding it too bold to confess. Over the course of six months, she’s worked her way into your heart almost effortlessly, supporting and loving you every step of the way. Everyday you're grateful that you were able to meet, even if the way you met wasn’t romantic.

“Made you what?” Rosie stood behind you and rested her hands on your hips. Unable to help herself, she bent down to kiss your exposed neck. You closed your eyes, sighing softly as she kissed the side of your throat. “It’s embarrassing,” you muttered, and she sank her teeth into your skin, causing you to gasp. “Ah— Chaeyoung…”

“Tell me, baby.” Her voice held that tone again, the one that had you shivering under her touch, aching for more.

Knowing you couldn’t convey it through words, you turned around in her arms and wrapped your own around her neck, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as you remembered how she moved to some of their songs’ sensual choreographies and the control she had while doing so. She kissed back, deep and languid. Her palm was hot, sliding over your curves and leaving behind a searing sensation. You broke away from the kiss, your breath coming out ragged as you looked into her eyes, her pupils dilated. “That’s how you make me feel,” you whispered into the little space between you.

She responded by pulling you into another heated kiss. The vibrations of your moans against her mouth made her heart hammer in her chest as she began to lift your dress up slightly, wanting to feel your thighs on her hands again.

Breath hitching roughly in her throat, Chaeyoung felt the tip of your tongue flick at the seam before sliding across its full length. She let you push your tongue past her lips, feeling herself losing herself in the moment, completely surrendering to the sensations coursing through her. (Kissing you seemed to do that to her).

Lips sliding and pressing against each other, tongues touching and tangling, you felt weak in the knees. You squeezed her arm, “Chaeyoung,” you said in between kisses, tugging at her shirt.

She groaned, the breathy sound of her name and the authoritative, low tone coming from you sent tingles rippling down her spine and left her feeling lightheaded.

With one last lingering kiss, she pulled away and led you to the bed by your hand. You laid down first, reaching for her and pulling her towards you. She crawled onto the bed after you, kissing you again. Your fingers played with her hair, combed gently through the locks. “This feels good,” you said quietly, tilting your head for more access, feeling a sense of contentment, desire, and love welling up inside of you. You felt her pause and smile against your skin.

While busying herself with making pretty marks on your neck, her fingers traced along your bare thigh, making you writhe beneath her, and she reveled in how sensitive you were to her touch.

She groaned at the slight tug from your fingers threading themselves in her hair as she continued to kiss your neck. “We can stop anytime...”

"No,” You said almost too quickly, gasping when you felt her bite you lightly, teeth nipping at your neck before a tongue soothed the area. "Please, don't stop.” You were ready to go all the way tonight.

Chaeyoung’s heart could burst out of her chest in that moment, knowing that you were ready for the next step, that between soulmates it would make the bond even stronger. She made her way up and kissed you again, now with a fever and tenderness that had a growing hunger.

Your fingernails dug into her back when she darted her tongue slow and deep across the roof of your mouth— in and out, over and over, in a way that made you instantly imagine her mouth traveling elsewhere. The idea alone got you riled up.

"Chaeyoung, please.." you gasped against her lips as another wave of heat circled through your abdomen and pulsed between your legs.

"We've got time, my love," She slotted a leg between your thighs, pressing against your center purposefully. “I'm all yours tonight." Her hand slipped between your bodies, hiking up your mini-dress just enough for her to have access to your lace panties.

You gasped and tightened your grip in her hair, subconsciously bucking your hips the moment her fingers brushed across your center. A wave of pleasure overtook your body, and you could feel her edging to dip her fingers lower. It wasn’t long before she felt how soaked you were, how wet she made you, forcing a stifled moan from her throat that vibrated against your lips. You whimpered, tightening your thighs around her hand at the sound.

Knowing what you needed, she quickly discarded your underwear, and dipped a finger in you, making you shudder and squirm. Giving you a few moments to adjust, she watched your face for any signs of discomfort before pumping in and out. You lifted your hips off the bed to meet her pace, her finger reaching deeper with each slow, tantalizing pump.

You could barely think straight with how intense everything suddenly became, and it only intensified as she added a second finger, pumping faster. There was a coil building in your stomach, moments away from snapping. “Chaeyoung— I’m gonna—” You panted heavily, your face burning, eyes closed tightly. With every stroke, your walls contracted tightly around her finger, making her curse under her breath. "Fuck, love. You're so tight... Are you close?”

You nodded against her shoulder frantically, nails digging into her back.

“Then come for me,” she murmured, adding her thumb in the mix to push you over the edge, her fingers relentless, as you arched forward, the pressure in your lower stomach building to such an extent you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your whole body trembled, incoherent words and moans leaving your mouth, your entire body shaking as an orgasm ripped through you.

All the while Chaeyoung slowed the pace, your body writhing underneath her hand as she pumped in and out, her fingers gliding across your sensitive spot as she watched you come apart for her, helping you ride it out. She felt breathless, and absolutely loved seeing you like that; all flushed and sweaty, needy for her. You're her Angel— her soulmate.

She kissed you, slow and sweet. “There, love. I’ve got you,” she cooed softly. “I love you, you did so well.”

You reached up, cupping her cheeks, loving the way your soulmate looked at you. “Just give me a moment,” you said, smiling. “It’ll be your turn next.”

#biscuitblinkeu #blackpink x reader #fanfic #blackpink #fem reader #rosé x reader #rosé x fem!reader #park chaeyoung x reader #park chaeyoung x fem!reader #biscuitrequest

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blazewatergem · 2 years

Text

Cleaning - Surefire Camp

Spring cleaning at Surefire Camp! Mostly happy, one angsty section for poor Bella, and me kind of ribbing myself for misspelling her name so many times before :’D for the record: it’s BellA, not BellE. Even if it says that on her character ref - yes, I got it wrong there too 😭

Please enjoy! This actually came out more than DOUBLE the words than the first one!

Spring cleaning. One of the most hectic times of Surefire Camp. While most of the cabins lie empty, the ones with living occupants did need to get picked up every so often. The deep clean that comes with spring, though, always felt far more refreshing.

It was also a great time to get to see what the other kids were up to. Seeing how the adults focused on their main lodge, the group got to bounce between their own places and…mildly rub each other on what was up with their stuff.

The first, of course, was Cleona’s.

🧹

“Hoooooo, Cleona, that’s a lot of blankets.”

Alex whistles, staring at the growing mound as Cleona pulls out fluffy blanket after blanket from her cabin. And then pillowcases. And then sheets. At some point, he’s pretty sure it should be two piles and not one.

“Yeah, well, I kind of need them.” She lifts one up, gesturing back towards herself, “Most of my cabin is bed. I use them to set up a den, for the most part, and let’s be real - I’m always the one hosting sleepovers.”

She’s started to use her back as a basket, draping the blankets over herself to help carry them.

Alex starts picking them up too. “Yeah, that’s because yours is the coziest. Nice and big so we all can have fun. You don’t share with anyone.” He winks at the end, making her laugh.

It was the truth. Sabella lived in the lake, for the most part, and Bella still slept in the main lodge - for safety reasons - while Charlie and Alex shared a cabin.

“You try getting enough space with a body like this. Beds are small, sofas are small, I can’t sit in chairs.” Cleona is giggling all the while they lug her stuff to the laundry and back again. It’s a comfortable feeling, doing it together.

On the way back, Alex looks around. “You seen Charlie?”

“Yeah, he’s on floor duty.”

“Eh?”

He understands the minute they get back into Cleona’s cabin. While a majority of it is carpeted, soft and well-worn with time, there’s still some regular flooring near the door and into the area that works as a dining room.

Charlie was currently in puddle mode, roaming like a roomba across said flooring.

“My dude,” Alex states, “the fuck.”

A head appears in the middle of the green pool.

“I’m helping!”

🧹

Charlie and Alex’s cabins were next - and things were going smoothly!

Until Cleona got into the fridge.

“How the hell are you two alive?” She chuckles, pulling out so many half drank water bottles, “There’s, like, no food in here. Oop, I take it back -“

Triumphantly, she raises a single pack of bacon above her head.

“Found some.”

She outright laughs at the offended looks she gets back.

“Hey! I do most of my cooking in the dining hall, better and bigger kitchen there.” Alex defends, “Stuff here is just for, like, quick cooking or cravings, y’know? D-Don’t think I didn’t see what was in your fridge!”

Cleona’s cat ears press against her head, and she ducks a bit, “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Having a shit ton of raw beef was a pretty strange sight to the guys. And milk. A lot of milk.

“B-But I’m the only one in there! There’s two of you here, shouldn’t you have more? Especially with Charlie’s biology.” It was a good point. If Charlie ever lost a lot of himself, eating or drinking can help make up for it.

Considering he was always losing bits of himself, the poor teen was just…always hungry.

Like right now, where she could see him quite literally shoving himself into a bag of chips.

“We keep snacks in the cabinets,” Alex explains, putting the victory bacon back, “Trust me, we use the fridge.”

“For what —“ In a practiced move, Cleona starts opening the drawers in the fridge to check through those. She doesn’t really expect to find anything.

But she does.

The two of their bickering goes silent as they stare down at the ketchup packets. Just…just a shit ton of ketchup packets. Cleona can see different labels of where they’re from - most from fast food places, but there was a few from local diners.

They fill up the entire. Drawer.

“…Hey Alex?”

“¿Qué?”

“I think it’s my turn to ask what the fuck.”

“Probably.”

“…Well?”

“Hmm?”

She gestures towards the drawer, “Wha-I-the- what do you MEAN hmm?! Bro, the fuck?!”

Alex looks at the mound of packets, and shrugs. “I dunno, seems easier than drinking it from the bottle.”

“WHAT —“

🧹

They’ve masked up. They’ve got gloves on. Cleona has even wrapped bags around her paws to keep them and the fur up her legs safe.

Charlie’s room. Their next destination.

“We ready?” Alex’s voice is muffled a bit, the teen having found and put on a gas mask.

“Yeah.” Cleona adjusts her goggles, mop in hand, “We got this.”

As they unlock the door and step in…

They reel back, stunned.

Everything’s clean.

Charlie didn’t have much. A bathtub - with the drain and any piping removed - for a bed, some clothes for particularly hot days, a mini fridge for liquids, and a tablet made to be waterproof loaded up with books and games and things.

But not a smidge of dirt or grime anywhere.

Where they expected mass amounts of dried slime, goo, and stains there’s none. Even mold or just in general use is…not there.

It’s pristine to the point of creepy.

“U-Uh, Charlie, buddy?” Alex calls out, “You’ve been sleeping in here right?”

The slime in question slinks up to them, looks in, and nods.

“Yeah! But why are you two going in? I don’t cause any mess.” Charlie starts, and then continues after their dumbfounded looks, “My slime dissolves dirt and stuff. Plus it doesn’t stain or dry up - it just kinda evaporates. Y’know, poof.”

…

“You’re cleaner than we are.”

“Charlie, that’s so cool!”

🧹

Before heading to the main lodge, the three go towards the lake to help out Sabella with the lake.

Most of the floaties they just. Leave floating in the lake so they’re always available. From unicorn donut tubes to giant parkour setups - one they all begged for and got one beautiful Christmas - they drift along the clear crystal waters.

What makes a difference now is bringing them up on the shore for Eleanor to check over. She knew how to fix this stuff, so they save it for her.

Something about not trusting anyone else with a needle.

Which is where they find this awful predicament.

“Charlie! Try - try leaning!” Cleona tries not to laugh, she does, but seeing just how stuck he was…it was hard. She could barely make out his panicked face as the floatie he was on started drifting away.

It’s a little kid one, and it looked like a pirate boat.

For some reason this is important to her to note.

“If I lean ‘m going in!!” Charlie yells back, “Please!! I CAN’T SWIM!” He’s so concerned.

Alex is laughing, “Yes you can! We’ve seen you do it before!” They had, and Charlie was - actually - a really good swimmer.

That does not stop his weak flailing.

“BUT THE LAKE WATER FEELS WEIRD IN MY SLIMEEEE!” He cries out, before falling backwards with a yelp. He sits back up, and smiles at the sight of a long, long scaly tail wrapped around his tube, tugging him to shore.

“Thanks Sabella!” The alligator girl laughs at him, shrugging as she drifts.

“No worries, Charlie.”

🧹

While the others head towards the dining hall, ready to eat, Cleona heads towards the main lodge. She knew Bella sometimes needed some…extra love, with cleaning day.

The little girl was very convinced that getting rid of stuff hurts said stuffs feelings, and thus needed to be reassured it was perfectly ok.

Which is how she enters the office room - a front in case anyone ever came by, wanting to stay at Surefire Camp, only to be informed the main campgrounds and cabins are ‘closed for repairs’.

Only to find a fretting Eleanor.

“Miss Eleanor?” Cleona stops on her way to the living spaces.

“Oh! Cleona, great timing, can you go check on Bella?” The older woman frets, fiddling with her many bracelets, “We were going through her room, and-and when Phil brought a letter in - for Bella, not me - she got upset and begged me to leave!”

She sighs, silver and brown hair falling from her bun - almost like an emphasis on the woman’s low mood.

“I didn’t want to push her, so I did. But she hasn’t come out, and it’s been a while…”

Cleona nods, “Yeah I’ll go take a peek. Don’t you worry, I’ll get our bumblebee back to buzzing.”

She hopes.

🧹

The crying she could hear through the door was not promising.

“Bumblebee baby?” Cleona says, “You wanna open the door for me?”

“No!” Is the sobbed out answer, “I don’ wanna!” Oof, ok, definitely gonna need a light touch here.

“Honey bear, you’re worryin’ me. What’s going on?” Cleona settles down just outside the door, lying down and crossing her arms. It’s a few minutes later, but a piece of paper slides under the door. A quick pick up and glance over it reveals everything.

Dear Belle,

Don’t write anymore.

It wasn’t even signed, but Cleona knew who it was from. While the teen has lost most of her faith in humans - along with most of the people living there - Bella had always wanted her parents to still love her. So, sometimes on her own in little red crayon, sometimes with the help of Phil or Cleona herself, Bella would write letters to them.

They never responded until now.

Cleona feels the paper crumple under her tightening hands. She drops it and knocks again at the door. The crying has…lessened.

“Bella, please open the door.”

There’s soft footsteps, the click of a lock, and then the steps go away. Cleona opens the door to a pastel daydream turned dark.

There are ribbons, frilly dresses and light colored clothes strung up in different areas. The closet, Cleona knows, was turned into a little reading nook and appeared to currently be occupied by the big stuffed bunny they had won at the state fair. The bed was overstuffed, piled on pillows and blankets.

A pile on the floor looks like Bella was sorting through her toys when the letter came in. Now, the girl was crying into a Squishmallow…which, Cleona is pretty sure that one is hers, but that’s ok.

“Oh, baby, it’s gonna be ok.” Cleona starts, gently rubbing the other girl’s back. The child cries harder.

“Th-they didn’t even geeet my nameee right!” She’s abandoned the Squish for hugging Cleona, hiding her face in the teen’s shoulder.

Cleona…can’t give her the right words. So, she drops her voice, and purrs. Purrs and purrs and purrs, holding the toddler close to try and soothe the pain.

Cleona just wishes this would be the only time Bella is ever let down, but she knows better.

All she can do is be there for her. For all of them.

🧹

The night ends with s’mores, a insisted upon tradition. As Cleona holds Bella, eyes still a bit puffy and face smeared with marshmallow, she wonders if she’d rather things were different.

If any of their parents could have accepted them, would they be better off? Then again, some of them weren’t there because of that. Besides, watching Bella munch on another s’more - it’d be her last one for a few days, to avoid adding to the sugar meter in her body - Cleona…really wouldn’t change anything.

They’re a family, no matter who leaves or joins. She’s happy to support them through thick and thin, no matter what.

#surefire camp universe #original writing #angst for poor Bella :( but she gets treats at the end so it’s ok #she’s well loved by the others at Surefire #talking fire

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