#@ ﹕ b (◞◟ ♡ ୨୧

[lachatalovematcha]

🧃🎀🍊.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿.　˚　目指そう🌈🎀⭐ ｈａｐｐｙ🌈🎀⭐ 夢がかなう鍵 きっとあるよ.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿.　˚　🧃🎀🍊｡･:*:･ﾟ★もっと ｌｏｖｅｌｙ Ｍｏｒｅ Ｌｏｖｅｌｙ🥣🌸★ドキドキな未来 きっと来るよ★Ｙｅａｈ ｙｅａｈ 🥣🌸ｆａｉｒｙ ★ ｂａｂｙ🍅.:♪*:･’ﾟ♭.:*･♪’ﾟ｡⭐️ 🎈⭐️🌈🖍️ 🎈ピンク ブルー 星屑を散りばめた ｗｏｎｄｅｒｆｕｌ ｗｏｒｌｄ⭐️ 🎈⭐️🌈🖍️ 🎈˚∘˙⊹˚✩˚∘˙⊹˚✩🎀🥞

[cupcek]

🧑🏿‍🔧̸᩠໋࣪꣹۫ ▓⃞⃯❀𓈒𓏶ྀི 𝐄ssa ɴão! D🅴 nO͜͡vo ୧🛤️ 𑜞᭄ೃ

🌺ြ░ೄྀ єᴜ 𝕖sq̲ueci que e𝐮 𝙏e esqueci⃟⏤͟͟͞͞✼​ꦽ⬮

[yancoric]

IM SORRY IM SO PATHETICALLY CLINGY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I DONT WANT YOU TO LEAVE ME AND I WANT TO KEEP YOU HAPPY AND I WANT YOU TO FEEL LOVED LIKE NEVER BEFORE AND I WANT TO KISS YOU ON THE LIPS AND HOLD YOU AND KEEP YOU FOREVER AND PLEASE DONT THINK IM A HORRIBLE PERSON IM SORRY I JUST LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU AND YOURE MY FAVORITE PERSON EVER AND I LOVE YOU

[yancoric]

ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily ily

[vivisviolets]

hii, participating in game! initials IQ, she/her, female, heterosexual. Love sea, art, books, fashion 💕 i am also libra

IQ 📹💥💗 ⊹♡ The Fool (*flipped exactly sideways*- possibly reversed), Strength (reversed), The Hanged Man, Nine of Wands (bonus card) (reversed), Four of Wands (bottom of deck) ⊹♡ 222, 444, 2424, 1212, Aquarius/Gemini/air placements (degrees, 7th house, Venus/Mars, etc), Cancer/Taurus/Sagittarius (Sun, Moon, Venus/Mars, etc) 2000s/y2k, "music video type of love", pinkpantheress, "lmao", channeled song, Stand - Jewel ⊹♡ they love you so much you have no idea- LMAO- hello my dear, you know what this relationship is giving? friends to lovers, a relationship built on friendship- and not only that but it's also giving ~one-sided pinning~, this is someone who you may know already, or you will know very soon as this seems like a very youthful connection.. but anyways- the way this person will be on your radar will be in a group situation, they may be a friend-of-a-friend or part of the enviorment you're in, this could related to education/workplace but tbh its giving more social circle, like you may have a group of people who hang out in a club/community setting, and that is how you'll catch the eye of this guy coming in. but the thing is- he'll probably not catch your eye at all, you may be in a phase where you're not pouring your energy into romantic partnerships and focusing on your own life (love that it's giving 4 of Swords ❀)- and this could also be your energy is being divinely protected and is being redirected opposite this person's energy- so that he can be the chaser to your attractor energy.<-- this will not be a runner v. chaser dymanic btw, this is Spirit divinely guiding this relationship to be on equal grounds with mutual give and take, to keep you from overgiving, and to allow this person to open his heart space up to give outwardly. and this is so beautiful because real/true love does not burst and explode leaving nothing- but instead burns, slowly, slow-burn. but anyways, going back to taking this slow lol- again, you will not take notice of this person, because you'll already be in a group of people, and you already have several that you give your energy to you have options, and out of a line-up, this person who you've caught the eye of, you could not really describe out of the line-up of people... and again,- you'll really only be focused on creating friendships!

enjoy some diy oracle cards I pulled that resonated heavily with the energy I'm picking up!! now, I will be honest, I think there may be some conflict involving communication, as well as this person's personality- they need some development ngl. and the advice I'm hearing FOR YOU- is to simply be yourself! do not over-extend, or try to "mother" this person, because they need to tap into their own self-responsibly and "man up"- I'm seeing to not give *any* concern if this person distances themselves from you for a time, please don't even think about it- because even if they get with another person, their mind will be on you,- you're honestly giving Rihanna energy with how you have men still thinking of you as "the one", while you're just doing your thing, and doing things for you and you only 💗💖. like I said after the conflict this person will eventually become better due to meeting you- and second chances can be given! because this person does enjoy bringing you fun/exciting experiences and also loves to make you laugh and smile! I see social + creative things you two love to do together like taking pics together, going to clubs/festivals (places with a lot of colorful lights?), doing clothes shopping/thrifting, maybe even diy-ing clothes- lots of style that you two love to bring to the table to one another- cus both of you want to be that "it" couple (and you are ofc) with the matching name-brand/custom outfits lol I think you two can become really close, and honestly grow with each other 💖 truly I see it. but remember to make sure they're *really* sticking with you on this partnership path because, with a rose-gold heart like yours, you are fully deserving of someone who stays alongside you in commitment 🩷. and also Spirit is confirming to you that there will always be someone better if it doesn't turn out, and that you have the inner patience and self-love to see that light at the end of the tunnel- and plus+ that next future partner/soulmate/hubby 💗♡ *i hope this was helpful my darling ♡~ consider leaving a tip on my Patreon if you enjoyed, or follow and become a violet~ doesnt matter to me tho :>~ sending you on your wayyyy, bye bye!!*

[miupow]

hear me out...chan trying to fit it in but he's too big and he's whispering all kinds of stuff trying to get you to take it and you're frustrated and needy and you're just so !! done !! because it feels empty and he's so close yet he's not in and finally finally, his thick tip catches and he inches in agonizingly slow simply to hear you whine for it

꒰୨୧◞ ⤷ ❛❛ TOO BIG ! ❜❜ .ᐟ bang chan.

[ ⟡ ] ── minors do not interact ! ⭑ fem!reader , soft dom!chan , est. relationship , monster cock chris lol , size kink , dirty talk , praise kink , daddy kink , missionary/mating press , unprotected sex , bulge kink

a/n ⸝⸝ happy (late) comeback day !! i’m not very proud of this drabble but it’s here and i’m posting it anyway lol <3 save me big dick chris.. save me..

♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱

“it’s too big, channie,” you whimper, peering down between your legs— the big fat tip of chan’s cock throbs an angry red as he slides it up between your pussy lips, taps it against your fluttering hole. your ankles dangle in the air over his shoulders, thighs pushed up to your chest by his body pinning you against the mattress, so close you could feel his hot breath, ache for a kiss from the plump, spit-slick lips he bit in arousal. he grips the base of his shaft in one hand, guiding it to push at your rim; you’re frightened by the sheer size of it, thick as a can, veins fat and pulsing… the pressure of it was already overwhelming yet you roll your hips down eagerly, desperate for it to slide in and fill you up.

“shh, stay still, babygirl,” chan coos so sweet, his veiny hand splayed out across your tummy. “and take this fucking cock. daddy knows you can.”

your pussy is making it difficult, so wet chan’s cock misses your hole, slides up your folds to bump against your clit. you shake in pleasure and frustration, reaching your hand down to take ahold of chan’s cock yourself— chan lets you with a warm smile, his thick arms shaking with every slick twist of your hand.

“you need me that bad, baby?” he chuckles, breathless. “thought you said it was too big.”

“i’m so empty,” you whine in response, angling his flared head to spear your core. “need your big cock, daddy—“ finally, finally his tip catches and slides in, sudden yet so achingly slow, your eyes rolling back in tandem with chan’s deep, guttural groan; the stretch burns deliciously, clouds over your senses as your mouth drops open in a moan for more.

“there you go, baby, just like that,” chan continues to bully his cock in past your tight rim, slow and gentle— but there’s nothing gentle about the way he fills you up, inch by fat, throbbing inch stretching your wet gummy walls to their limits. you can feel every ridge, every vein drag hot and heavy… you let go of his shaft in favor for scratching deep red marks into his flexing bicep, scrambling for something to hold on to and ground you. “daddy’s good girl, taking his cock so well— feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“b-big—!” you croak in a daze, an echo of your earlier sentiments; it was all you could manage to make yourself say, rendered brainless in an instant as chan’s blunt cockhead kisses your cervix. “so— so fucking big! ‘n deep, daddy, fuck—“

“yeah?” chan huffs, hips stuttering flush against yours. “am i too big for your little cunt, baby? feel me all the way up here?”

he presses down on the bulge his cock makes in your belly, causing the both of you to keen, your little dripping pussy fluttering around his cock as he twitches inside of you; you desperately want him to move, start pounding your pussy like you’ve been wanting so, so badly… you eagerly nod at chan’s teasing words, buck your hips the best you can folded in half. “yes, yes!” you wail, voice slurred, “give it to me daddy, please!”

“you’re so pretty when you’re begging for me, angel,” chan grins crookedly, pulling his hips back to slide himself out of your hole. you hold your breath in wicked anticipation. “beg some more and i’ll give you what you need.”

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : THROUGH SICKNESS AND HEALTH : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: RPF

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: When you fall ill, Hugh arrives to care for you, bringing comfort and warmth. His presence and tender care turn a difficult night into one of solace and reassurance.

IT WAS A QUIET EVENING, THE KIND WHERE THE WORLD SEEMED TO SLOW DOWN JUST FOR A MOMENT. Rain gently tapped against the window, creating a soothing rhythm that usually would have lulled you to sleep. But tonight, sleep was the last thing on your mind.

You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, but it did little to ease the shivers that ran through you. A low-grade fever had taken hold, and every breath felt heavy in your chest. The room, which was usually your sanctuary, felt stifling, the air thick and oppressive.

Just as you were about to sink further into the couch, you heard the front door click open. The familiar sound of Hugh’s footsteps echoed softly through the hall, and moments later, he appeared in the doorway. His face was a mix of concern and tenderness, eyes immediately locking onto yours.

"Hey, you," he greeted, his voice soft and warm, like honey. He walked over, sitting down beside you on the edge of the couch. "How are you feeling?"

You managed a weak smile, but it didn't reach your eyes. "Like I got hit by a truck."

Hugh chuckled softly, though you could see the worry lingering in his eyes. He reached out, gently pressing the back of his hand against your forehead, his brow furrowing as he felt the heat. "You’re burning up. Why didn’t you call me sooner?"

"I didn’t want to bother you. I know you’ve got that big project—"

"Bother me?" He interrupted, shaking his head. "You could never bother me. Work can wait."

His hand slid from your forehead to your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your chest ache. "You just focus on getting better, alright?

You nodded, feeling your eyes grow heavy with fatigue. Hugh stood up, only to return moments later with a glass of water and some medicine. He helped you sit up, holding the glass to your lips as you took small sips.

"Thanks," you murmured as you leaned back against the cushions, already feeling a bit more at ease with him by your side.

"Of course," Hugh replied, his voice still carrying that gentle tone that made you feel so cared for. He stood up again, disappearing into the kitchen for a few minutes before returning with a bowl of soup. The rich aroma filled the room, and despite your queasy stomach, it made your mouth water.

"Homemade chicken soup," he said with a proud smile. "My grandmother’s recipe. Guaranteed to cure anything."

You took a spoonful, the warmth spreading through you like a comforting embrace. Hugh watched with a satisfied grin, clearly pleased that you were eating something. He sat beside you, his presence a calming force, and for a moment, you forgot about the fever, the aches, and the chills.

After you had eaten as much as you could manage, Hugh helped you settle back against the cushions, adjusting the blanket around you. He turned on the TV, flipping through channels until he found one of your favorite shows. The familiar characters filled the screen, a welcome distraction from the discomfort you felt.

But it was Hugh’s steady hand holding yours that truly made you feel better. His thumb traced small circles over your knuckles, and every so often, he’d glance over at you, making sure you were okay.

As the show played on, your eyelids grew heavier, and soon you found yourself drifting off. The last thing you remembered was the sound of Hugh’s low voice, humming a soft tune as his hand continued to hold yours.

And as sleep finally claimed you, you knew that whatever came, Hugh would be there. His warmth, his care, his unwavering presence—those were the things that made you feel safe, even when everything else was uncertain.

🏷️: @oatmilkriver @khxna

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! 🫶

[voghe]

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ BIOS/DISPLAY NAMES MASTERPOST

🕊️┆𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 ， 사랑 — prns ִ ࣪𖤐 ˖ ✦ › mbti 𓂃 ★ @user's 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹

ㅤ ﹒ @user ﹕☆ ㅤ ﹟ prn · prn ㅤ࣭ ㅤׂ : ᯓ mbti ! ﹐

♡ . name emoji ᛝ mbti ◞ age !!

★ ︵ @ name text ⟢ 🦴 ౨ text !

🪼﹒　﹫name　 𓇼 🪸﹒ ⁺ ﹒prn . prn .ᐟ　（꩜ (＞。☆) 　ext 　ꕀ ᶻz　🦈

ㅤ࣭ ㅤㅤׂ ㅤ ㅤˑㅤ ㅤ۟ ㅤ₊ 　 ☆　┈ @txt 　 ˑ 𓂂 txt ͡ ͡ txt

୨୧ name . pr / ns .ᐟ text text txt . fav , fav ♡ link/extras

＞︿＜ ׅ⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀̸ ⠀ׄ⠀mbti ⠀٬⠀⠀ ㅤㅤ୨୧ ㅤ. [pron / gender ] 🦔 ꒦꒷ name ﹒﹒﹒⭐️

𐔌 name ﹒ ౨ৎ 𓏵 ﹒ prns ◟ 𖦹 ᛝ carrd ﹒ ❏

ᅠᅠᅠ꒰͡⠀ׂ 𖹭⠀͡꒱ 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 ︵͡ ⁺ ᰍ̠ 🏹🌷 ׅ ۫ 요정

౨ৎ'🌙 .

the tattoo on my ring finger —★! 07 liner

౨ৎ @txt_bighit

—﹙🍡﹚⑅ @name ♡ ₊ ✦ prns ، age : 🌸 🍵 ∿ link/txt txt

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ‿︵˓ ʚ♡ɞ ˓ ︵ ͜ ㅤ ㅤ ݂ ͘ ౨ৎ Light shower. .ᐟ ⟢ ۫ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ Call me your muse. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ︶ ͡ ۫ ˓ ʚ♡ɞ ˒ ۫ ͡ ︶

★ ! 222 · infp ˙ 희망 — my love !! @user ──★ ˙ ̟ have a good day !!

 ‎ᘎ she / her  ⊹  ᰋ. ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎17 ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ : ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎pr𝔦nc͟e͟s͟s͟ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ᰍ 

☆

╭ ❝ @name ❞ • song + artist !! ╰ ★ sexuality . mbti . timezone

＞　 ◞ ◞ 　 ⟡　 ◞ ◞ 　 ＜ >ᴗ< ︴name info 𝜗 ᴗ ‸ ᴗ) info .ᐟ.ᐟ

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ( 🍓 ) 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 .ᐟ ୨୧ ⤹ 𝗆𝖻𝗍𝗂 • 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗌 .ᐟ

𐙚 ( 🌷 ) ˖ ࣪ ⊹ 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 ( 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 ) ˖ ࣪

ㅤ 𓈒 ୭ৎ ᥴᥲ𝗍s ᥱyᥱs 𝅄 🪡 ۪ ݁ 𓈒

ㅤㅤ ۪ 𝅄 ꒰ 태형 ꒱ ۪ ݁ 𝟷𝟷 : 𝟷𝟷 ݁ ۪ ୧

      ♡⊹.* name ┆★ ˙ᵕ˙      prns !? ᰔ age ᰔ zodiac       ╰┈➤ extra / / ♡

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ�� ﾟ。 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, ౨ৎ 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨, ₊˚⊹♡

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴, ౨ৎ 　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨. ₊˚⊹♡

𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬▶ 𝗩𝗛𝗦

𝟬𝟭:𝟯𝟱 𝗦𝗘𝗣 . 𝟬𝟯 𝟭𝟵𝟴𝟱

_ _ // ヤ . @ name ◟ ⨯ . ︵︵ .ᐟ prn . prn 丶 𐑞

𝗰𝗵𝗸 𝗰𝗵𝗸 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺 💥 ᵛᵃᵐᵒˢ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ⁱᵗ 🔥 ˡᵒᵇᵒˢ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʰᵘⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ☄️

✶ ﹕ name ﹫ pro ⌒⌒ nouns·₊★ ╰╮ ⸝⸝ website <3 ╰↠ dms status ( ^ ω ^)

୨🍶୧  𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛  ⏜ ۫ . ⟡   ⋂                ♡︎   ﹒ৎ୭  88̲8̲ﹾ   ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ name ! prns ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ extra ⋮ @youruser ₊˚ෆ ೀ 🍨 ‧ ˚ 🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

𝜗⠀ name⠀˙ ♱◞ ྀི 𓏵𓏵⠀𖥻prn/prn ◟ 𓉸⠀ ︵︵⠀𓈒⠀⠀ext⠀𝜚　˙ 　˖　⁰⁰

• ➜ @user ﹕ ✩ ㅤ ✦ › carrd.co ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ []teen ,, mbti ✩ ࿐࿔

𝗪𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 ᴹⁱᵗˢᵏⁱ ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

◠ . ─ · ◠ . ─ · ◠ . ─ · ◠ . ─ · ꒰୨୧◞ 。name⠀.ᐟ⠀user⠀₊ ˚⊹ ɞ⠀.⠀age ﾉ⠀pronouns ﹗ ໒꒱۪

𓍢 ⛲️ ׅ ⬞ ִ name . 𓂃 ଓ mbti ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ult 𓍢ִ໋ @

¡ ૮₍ name 𖠗 🍴✦ name ⏱ ᯤ 𔔁 !

،، ✶ 🍚 ¿ ¡ ✷ name ⩇ ʿ 𖤛 ⋆ 🧻 𖥉

♡ 🏯 ᪤ name 𔘓 ! # 94 🧭 ᯤ ა

𔔀 ꉂ 🥼 ¡ name ! ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𒀭࣪ ⋆ 🛁

ʿʿ ヤ ⏱ ✶ % name ᯤ 𖠗 ⩉:⩉ 🗑 ! ?

: 交 🏐 🜲 𖠗 name ? 🗒 ☆ › ✸

𓆩 ✉ # ⋆ ⩉ name𝂅 🌪 : ★ ☆ 𓆪

%  ☆ ࣪🗞  ¡ ૮₍name ₎ა : ꀯ  ♡  🔭  ‽

⩇⩇  🧂 𖠗 🍴✦ ‧ꭑname‧ ⏱ ᯤ 𔔁  ! 

،، ✶ 🍚  ¿ ¡  ✷ name  ⩇ ʿ 𖤛 ⋆  🧻 𖥉 

♡  🏯  ᪤  ּname  𔘓 !  #  94 🧭 ᯤ ა

𔔀  ꉂ  🥼 ¡  ‧name𝀛 !   ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎  𒀭࣪  ⋆ 🛁 

:  交  🏐  🜲  𖠗 𝀛name   ?  🗒  ☆ ›  ✸ 

 𓆩  ✉  # ⋆ ⩉  ּname᤻𝂅 🌪 :  ★  ☆  𓆪

𓄹 タ ⋆ 📡  name  ҂  𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗻𝖼e̲s̲s̲ ꞌꞋꞌ ⏱ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ˖ ࣪⭑

᤻  ꗃ  :  ⏲ ◖ 𓂃 name  ⿻  name‧ ،، ✶ 🗞  ⩉  

⩉ : ⩉  𖥻 🗑 ꉂ  ૮₍ ‧name᤻𝀛 ₎ა ✶  ๋࣭   # 97   ◜🗒◞

¡  % ⊹  🥽  ᨘ໑  ▸ name᤻𝀛  🜲  𝗚𖦹𝗻ׂ𝗲 𔔁 🏯 ! ׄ .𓄼 

❛ 𒀭 :  🛒 𓂃 ¡ name ‽ ٠ 🧾  ›  ✸  %

 ¡   さ   🔭   ꉂ  ‧name   ✶  ⏱   𖠗   𐂯   ? b «    ᯥ   %    🛒  name  ⩉:⩉   𖣯   ᘏ   女   !

🍽   ␥   ★    ⩇  name  🜲   𝘁𝗂𝗻𝗒   ★   ฅ   ‽

🜸   ★    𖠗   :   Name  ᯤ  𝗺𝚢 b̸ɔ︩︪𝘆  🥛 𖤛  ა

༘ ˚ ⋆ 🍶+ ˚ ₊ name ྀིྀི ♁ ₊ 🪽｡˚ ₊ +

𝜗 name e e ₊ < initial 3

⠀⠀꒰⠀s/o ෆ 00.00.00 ⠀ ⠀ྀི 𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝘭𝑖𝑡𝑡𝘭𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝘭𝘭 ྀི ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 🌷࿔⭑⤷your pronouns🪼࿔⭑ ๋🌺࿔⭑⤷your favorite song or your b-day 🎀࿔⭑ 🌷࿔⭑⤷your fandom 🍒࿔⭑ ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Lyrics of a song ࿔⭑🎂🧸

　　　﹒ 𓂃◞ ֪ ⑅　 ۫　 ׅ ♡ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ ˢⁱⁿˢ . 🪽 ︶　◞ ྀི ◟⠀︶︶　◞ ྀི ◟⠀︶

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ name prns ␥ mbti ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ _ ★₊˚﹟📸 song ⵌ ₊ ⊹ artist ‹𝟹

✶ ﹕ name !! ﹫ pro ⌒⌒ nouns ·₊★ ╰╮ link ⸝⸝ ₊ <3 ╰↠ xtra (𝗼˳★)?

𓇼 ˚ 𝟬͟𝟰 … 사랑 2004ㅤㅤ ★ 🎧

BIO + SYMBOL PACK !!!

𖥔 📟 ꩜ ⩇ּ⩇ ʿ : ーツ ¡! 📞 カ ໋ ⸝⸝ 𝅦 𝗳𝗮𝗹len ✧ ᨯ 苺. ᘐ 🥢 𝗮𝗻𝗴els ㌗ の › 𝇋☆𝇌 テレビ ! 𔘓 ﹙🧀﹚ van͟i͟ꪱꪱa ⠀︵⠀⠀⊹⠀ ﾟ ˖ ꕀ lover ⠀⸝⸝` ๑꒱⠀ 𓂂 ⠀ .ıllı. social ﹔ link

﹒ @ 𝐍AME ─ timezone ﹐ nation ^..^ star sign ﹒ bday ：✿ 。prns social 𖦹 friend ﹔user

⠀ ⠀⠀민지⠀ ⠀♡𝆬 ⠀ 𝓛. : 🥄 ݂֢

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀🥼 : 지수 𝄒 ﹙ 𝒔. ﹚

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝘴𝖺𝗇𝖺 ׄ 𓈒 ᯇ 🧷 : ୧

���⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ 𝅄⠀࿙࿚ ︶ ⠀♱⠀ ︶࿙࿚ 𝅄 ⠀⠀⠀⠀꒰ ℋ𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑟 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑡 ꒱

@ username ┃ 𝗔𝗡𝗚𝟯𝗟 ꕀ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ ✶ ━━ 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄 , ⤷ ┇ ⌒ 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐 ꒱꒱ 彡 ꒰୨୧꒱ ┃ ◞⁺⊹．prns .

𝅄 ݁ ⏜ ꒰ 𝖼ᥲ𝗋ᥲ𝗆ᥱ𝗅 gⲓrℓ ꒱ ── ๑ ֹ ₊ㅤ ۟

▦ ﹒ ☆ 🔌 🛒 ⸒ 별 ꜝ ﹫

𝜗⠀ name⠀˙ ♱◞ ྀི 𓏵𓏵⠀𖥻prn/prn ◟ 𓉸⠀ ︵︵⠀𓈒⠀⠀ext⠀𝜚　˙ 　˖　⁰⁰

⠀☆⠀⠀𓈒⠀⠀ׁ⠀⠀𝗰𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖾⠀⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀⠀꒱⠀⠀𝇄𝇃⠀⠀ׅ⠀⠀☕

꒱⠀⠀ׁ⠀⠀ׅ⠀⠀⠀𝆬⠀⠀⠀ᘏ⠀⠀α𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋⠀⠀ׅ⠀⠀⠀𝆬⠀⠀⠀ָ֢⠀⠀⠀ෆ 𖡎⠀⠀ָ֢⠀⠀⠀𝆬⠀⠀🥼⠀⠀ׅ⠀⠀⠀ׁ⠀ꕀ⠀⠀ׁ⠀⠀ׅ⠀⠀𝟵𝟴⠀﹔

͝ ︶ ·̩͙⏝ ͝ ୨ ꒰ name ꒱ ୧ ͝ ⏝ ·̩͙︶ ͝ ۫ ۪ info info info 𝆴

　　　　　 ⤷ 　　 ﹒　 　e　　 text 　　 ♡

　　　　　⌒  　text 　 　e　 　⟡

　　　　　( ᴗ ̫ ᴗ )　　text　　⋌　　e 　﹒　

ㅤ𓂃 ׁ ⃝ 🍂（ かんけつ編 ） ˑ ୨ ִ ۫

ㅤㅤ ݁ 🗡️ ◠ ִ ٬٬ 𝟾⩇% ꣼ 𝚍𝚎☆𝚝𝚑 ۫ ︵ ✧

_ ╰ㅤ ㅤ ۫ ✦ㅤ ㅤ txt !!_⠀ ⠀ ◠ ᶻᶻ ㅤ ıstj ꜝꜝㅤ ⸺ㅤ pronouns ִ ⠀ׂ ★

𐙚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🎀 ♡ 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨 ⋆.˚ 𝙛𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩 ⊹ ᰔ. @𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙧 ㅤ♡ྀི ₊

･ᴗ･ "i wanna be yours" ⊹

ıllı " [names] info! " ✩

⊂⊃ nicknames ﹐⇅ ⊂⊃ prns ﹐⇅

ᶻz xtra ﹐✩ ! ˃ᗜ˂ carrd / rentry ✩ ﹐

I. name 🥛 age ✮ II. gender .. . prns III. xtra , xtra ꩜ ☁️ ✉️ follow :: @user

ㅤㅤㅤ ── ּ ᰍ ˳ 𝒫 ͜αℓɘ ⃝🦢 ۫ ུ

ㅤㅤㅤ ི 🦪 𓈒 ਬਦ ⊹ 苍白 ︵ 𝇈

꒰ ⋆ ࣪. ━ׄ──ִ──ׁ──ִ──ׁ─𔕙─ׅ──ׁ──ׅ──ׁ──ׅ━ ˖ ࣪⭑ ꒱

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 . . . 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝖄𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝖄𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎 ✸

甘美な

𝗪𝗪𝗪.NAME.𝗖𝗢𝗠. ?!

© ❛ prns . gender 名 ─ nick : name ﹙sexuality﹚ ❱❱ age . mbti !

; @name ~ ☆ # pro / nouns ! mb • ti ♬ — song - artist name

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ur name here ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ──★ ˙ ̟ 🐇 !! ⋆✦ pronouns ⊹♡ extra info!! >_< ✮⋆˙ I 𖹭 (someone you love)

⠀⪩⪨ @ name / mbti ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ lana del rey ‹𝟹 — ౨ৎ

𓎢𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎡 ‧₊ 𖦹 ˚ 🥩 ˚ @user ᝰ.ᐟ 🎀 ೀ⋆ ˚₊‧ 🩸 ꒰ა prn 🔪 prn ໒꒱ 🩸‧₊ ˚ ʚ 🐾 ɞ ୧ mbti ୨ ✧˚ 🍮 ༘ 𓎢𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎡

── like or reblog ; © V O G H E

[dallaji]

Hope we make it to the Cloud.

♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗

SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.

WORD COUNT: 10k

CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.

- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>

————— ୨୧ —————

The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is. 

“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”

Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.

None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.

It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.

Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.

And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.

“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes. “We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—” “I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered. “Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.” “I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off.  “Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”

Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. 

You had seen Bada around.

After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.

“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”

“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”

That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”

Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.

You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.

Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.” 

You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.

Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.

As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”

The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.

You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.

“They’ve been on your case, huh?” 

Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.

“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.

“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.

If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.

It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.

“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”

She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”

You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.

Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.

As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.

She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”

Right, of course.

“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.

Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.

It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”

Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. 

You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you. 

Proving you wrong, she smiled back.

“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.” 

You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.

Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”

You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side. 

As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless. 

You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.

You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.

But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.

“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”

You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”

“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”

“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.

“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks. 

Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording. 

“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.

“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her. 

You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.

“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”

You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”

“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”

You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of. 

“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”

“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”

————— ୨୧ —————

Her draft was good. Really good, actually. 

Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders. 

You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.

The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.

The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.

“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.

She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching. 

“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”

“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”

Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it. 

“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.” 

You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all. 

“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?” 

“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”

————— ୨୧ —————

Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy. 

On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager. 

On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.

Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.

However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.

“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

————— ୨୧ —————

By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet. 

The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor. 

You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.

You looked good together.

“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks. 

She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.

“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow. 

She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense. 

In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for. 

Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”

You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.

Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.

“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”

You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.

It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.

The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines. 

As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.

At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly. 

But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could. 

You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.

Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded. 

You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.

“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.

But instead she said: “That was incredible.”

“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly. 

“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.

“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming. 

“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”

“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.

Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully. 

“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.” 

That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude. 

Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?” 

You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”

————— ୨୧ —————

The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work. 

The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.

It had changed.

Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.

But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on. 

Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest. 

“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.

“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly. 

You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.

“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.

“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.

Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.

Bada.

In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.

You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.

You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them. 

Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile. 

“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”

She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look. 

“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”

“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things. 

Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed. 

Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.

You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot. 

The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.

Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.

“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”

You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.

“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.” 

You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.

Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.

Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest. 

She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you. 

After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?” 

You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…” 

Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”

“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.” 

Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.

Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”

The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”

The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

“Why?” You asked, genuinely.

For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it. 

“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”

Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.

You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.

But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.

Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.

There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further. 

You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.

You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.

She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you. 

Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.

She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.” 

The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you. 

The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.” 

The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”

She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.

She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”

You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.

She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape. 

“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”

In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care. 

You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting. 

“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips. 

It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.

One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it. 

“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.

“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.

She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in. 

“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand. 

She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully. 

Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.

“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”

Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat. 

She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.

You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted. 

Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.

You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer. 

You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans. 

As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.

You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.

Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.

“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”

“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately. 

“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”

“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.

After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs. 

When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.

“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.

“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.

As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.

A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.

“Hey, Bada.”

“Hm?”

“Camera’s still recording.”

She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly. 

“Oh, fuck.”

[remlionheart]

NSFW Alphabet: Chuuya Nakahara Edition ♡

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ MDNI. really needed a fun lil drabble to break up my writer's block and this was perfect. silly but super fun to write. lemme know whatcha think. luv u ♡ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Chuuya definitely gives you aftercare, it's just not always the most well thought out when he’s gotten back from a long night at work. He doesn't remember to have dinner ready or pajamas laid out, but he still holds you as you collapse onto his chest. Laughs with you while the two of you place the 4th doordash order of the week to his apartment since you're both too spent to even think about cooking. He runs light fingers through your hair and kisses your forehead, teasing you for how hard you came while also reminding you of how fuckin' gorgeous you looked bent over for him. The thought of it alone promptly brings his lips back to yours, nearly earning you a round 2 before the food arrives.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It takes Chuuya a long time to admit it, even if it's fairly obvious, but he's self-conscious about his body. About the way he thinks it should look versus the way it actually does. He’s always praising you. Always so good about making you love parts of yourself that you didn't know you could, though he rarely gives himself the same respect. Your thighs get a lot of his attention. He touches them constantly without meaning to. His hand resting on them while he drives. His fingers mindlessly gliding across them while you watch TV before bed. His face buried between them any chance he gets. He loves 'em. You decide to challenge him one day after a shower, using his own words against him: "Chuuya, tell me one thing you love about yourself -" you shoot him a pointed look, not giving him the chance to deflect with his usual sarcasm, "and be serious. You have to mean it." He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment, apprehensively looking over his reflection before he lets out a sharp exhale. "Fine. My eyes." "What about them?" You press. "They're... nice."

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

One of Chuuya's favorite highs in life is being pussy-drunk. Being so completely enamored by your taste and scent that he can't physically think of anything else besides you. He loves the feeling of your cum dripping down his chin. The insanely beautiful fucked-out noises you make for him when you sit on his face and nearly drown him in your release. He gets a sick satisfaction in showing up to work, knowing that there are still remnants of the morning head he gave you clinging to the collar of his shirt. You're his girl and he takes making you cum very seriously.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Chuuya is a dominant people pleaser, which is a dangerous combination to begin with, but especially when it starts blending into his finances. Being a Port Mafia executive, he has more money than he knows what to do with and he fucking loves buying you stuff. Taking you on shopping trips and watching you fill bag after bag with frivolous, designer outfits that you’d never buy for yourself otherwise. Swiping his debit card for purses and necklaces and shoes that total out to nearly $10,000. There's something almost addicting about it, he revels in your reactions. The way you look so awestruck every time he drops a fat stack of cash on you, but also how good it makes him feel being able to spoil you as much as he does. Alexa, what does “findom” mean?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Chuuya’s experienced, but a lot of his past hookups were one nightstands or meaningless flings. Drunken mishaps that held little to no weight in his mind. You've both learned a lot from each other by being comfortable enough to explore things you wouldn't have with previous partners. Communication is so strong with him. He always wants to know what you like and if there’s anything you want to try but haven’t yet. He wants to know everything about your body - wants it to only respond to him. He'd had sex in the past, but he realized that he'd never really properly fucked someone until he met you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

As much as Chuuya loves bending you over, he’s such a slut for you being on top. Holding your hips to help guide you and thrusting up into you when you’re not expecting it, going as deep as he can while you sink back onto him with a pretty glazed over expression. The way your eyes widen every time he does it. The duality of being in control while also letting you use him. The view of your tits bouncing so perfectly for him while the sound of your ass smacking against his thighs echoes across the room. He loves watching you struggle to take the whole thing. You're usually holding onto him for support, hands clasped around his neck, your stare locked intently with his while your cunt throbs around him. The pouty fucking look that takes over your face when he plunges into you. You become a whimpering mess, trying to tell him how close you are with broken words as if he can’t feel your walls clenching around him. "Chuuya - 'm, I'm gonna -" "I know baby, keep going. Keep fuckin’ going. Doin’ so good f’me.”

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Chuuya's form of flirting is witty banter. Sarcastic comments that the two of you volley back and forth between each other. He's generally more serious in the moment, but he will literally never pass up the chance to whisper a snarky little nothing in your ear to get you flustered, especially in public. He loves making you blush. Loves knowing that he's capable of getting you so worked up without even touching you. Loves seeing you squirm and swat him away with a feeble, "Chuuya! Not here!"

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Chuuya never really understood the question, "does the carpet match the drapes?" and why it was such a hot topic when it came to redheads. It was wildly irritating growing up and getting asked that so often by his asshole friends. Of course they matched. Why wouldn't they? As an adult, Chuuya fully embraces this though. He takes pride in making sure he's well-groomed. If it were up to him, your lips would always be wrapped around his cock, so he makes sure to keep things as trimmed and polished as he can for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Chuuya is the consent king, always making sure that you're just as into what's going on as he is. He finds subtle ways to check in on you while staying in the moment. "Tell me, baby. Tell me how it feels." He likes to make sure you're present, that you're not thinking about anything else besides the way he feels inside you. He would do anything to make you feel good. Anything. What he can't aways say with his words, he shows through his actions. He lets you know he loves you by stretching and filling you until you can’t see straight. He may act like he’s the one calling the shots, but you'll always cum before he does. He makes damn sure of it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

His work schedule is demanding and doesn't always grant him the amount of time he'd like to have with you, so when he's stuck in his office after hours, Chuuya can't fucking help himself. The urge has been there all. day. and he's certain he'll die if he doesn't take care of it right now. He reaches into his coat pocket, dialing your number while he unzips pants and removes his glove with his teeth. His cellphone is wedged between his shoulder and his cheek when your voice finally spills out of the receiver. Before you can even ask how his night's going, you hear it. That desperate, heady tone that he only gets when he hasn't seen you in a few days. "Baby..." he groans, stroking himself upppp and dowwnn. He closes his eyes, imagining what you must look like lying in his bed. "I need you so fuckin' bad right now." "Yeah?" You tease, quietly slipping two fingers under the hem of your panties. "How bad?" It was only a matter of minutes before he was cleaning off his desk from the mess you'd helped him make.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Chuuya is the softest dom. As much as he likes to be in control, he folds so easily when it comes to you. Even when he’s “punishing” you, he’s doing it with things he knows you like. He loves putting collars on you or wrapping his belt around your neck and pulling at both ends until your pretty little pupils blossom into hearts while you struggle to moan out his name. Hearing you beg does something deranged to him that he can't quite put into words. He stays in control for as long as he can, but you always have the upperhand with how bad he wants to taste you. With how bad he wants to be buried inside of you. He'll tease and nip at you and try to drag it out for as long as he can, but at the end of the day, he's just as addicted to you as you are to him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Chuuya will fuck you anywhere and when he says anywhere, he means it. His favorite guilty pleasure though is definitely bringing you into Port Mafia. Making everyone well-aware of your presence as he walks around with you on his arm like you're the shiniest, most expensive accessory he owns. Shoving all of his paperwork off of his desk and bending you over, pinning your hands behind your back and pressing your face against the handcrafted Mahogany. Hiking up your skirt and ramming himself into you, knowing damn well everyone can hear you crying out his name as you cum. His two favorite pastimes: pissing off Mori and fucking you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Chuuya secretly loves the attention you get when the two of you go out, even if it drives him a bit crazy at times. He can't deny the way his cock twitches when he notices the bartender size you up and then immediately avert his eyes when he feels Chuuya's stare on him. Chuuya knows you're gorgeous, it's an absolute fact for him, but to see the other people reel in how pretty you are too fills him with a feral sense of pride. He would fuck you in front of the entire world if he could just to show them what they'll never have.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There are very few things that Chuuya wouldn't do for you, but the one request he would struggle with if asked would be sharing. Even if it was a casual threesome with no strings attached, he’s a Taurus Sun, Scorpio moon - the man does not share and the thought of having to watch someone else touch you would most definitely send him into a murderous tailspin.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Chuuya loves both giving and receiving, for sure. But there's something about the way you taste that almost makes his brain short-circuit. He thinks about it while he's at work. Thinks about it while he's on missions. Thinks about it while he fucks himself when you're not around. He often finds himself daydreaming about his tongue swirling around your clit and the adorable, pitiful, fucked-out noises you make so easily for him. The way you whine and writhe against him. How he can always tell when you're close by the way your words start to break up. That cute little incoherent babble you let out as he plunges an extra finger into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He’s pretty sure that if he had to choose his own death, it would be drowning between your thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Pacing all depends on the mood and setting for Chuuya. It's 1 am and you guys just stumbled back home from the bar? You're wearing the shortest black slip dress he's ever seen in his life, and he's had to restrain himself all night from not dragging you into the club bathroom and having his way with you? He's fucking you into oblivion the second you step inside his apartment. Hands tangling into your hair as he pins you against the wall of the entry way, pulling you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. It's going to be fast, rough, deep. You'll both wake up with bruises and love bites and well-deserved hangovers. But - it's 1 pm on a rainy Tuesday and you guys just got back home from the bookstore? You're wearing an oversized cardigan with a comfy pair of shorts, and he's been quietly admiring you all day, watching you dig through countless bookshelves until you finally found the one you wanted? He's fucking you so thoroughly. Taking his time as he helps you out of your sweater, smiling at your body with each layer of clothing that get tossed to the floor. He's kissing the crook of your neck, telling you how beautiful you are. He's fucking you with slow, sensual, affection. You'll end up drifting off to the sound of the thunderstorm afterward, the two of you wrapped up under a blanket on the couch while the rain taps against the window next to you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Chuuya's a giver who loves a challenge so quickies are right up his alley, really. You'll stop by the apartment on your lunch break, warning him that you only have 15 minutes, but he’ll only roll his eyes in response before telling you to hop up on the counter. He locks in immediately, his concentration fully on you as he spreads you apart. Two fingers holding you open so that his tongue has complete access to your clit, the warmth of his mouth and the pressure of his strokes making your legs shake around his head already and he's just gotten started. He's precise. Calculated. Unrelenting. Even if he's only competing against the clock, he's still never lost.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as you're into it, so is Chuuya. He's very open when it comes to sex, especially when it comes to talking about it with you. You had a wet dream about him fucking you against the window in the sunroom so that the neighbors could see it? Lift that skirt up, angel, let's go give them a show. You read a book where the male lead lightly ran a blade across the main character’s throat while teasing her and you think you want to try it? His knife is already out of his pocket, his hand cradling your jawline. “Tell me how bad you want it, baby.” as he slices through the thin straps of your tank top, smirking at how hard your nipples are while it slips down to your waist. There a very few things he wouldn't be willing to at least try with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Chuuya can generally go a solid 2 rounds before he's completely spent, but if he's drunk, this number could be multiplied depending on his drink of choice that night. Chuuya's stamina is solid. He lasts awhile, but his entire objective while fucking is to make sure you're getting off. He's very in tune and aware of your body and tries to go with the flow of where you're at. If you can handle an hour or two, he'll gladly give it to you. He has no problem playing the long game, but if you're sleepy and only need twenty minutes to get there, he'll make sure he cums with you in that time. A truly adaptable king ˚₊‧ʚ♡ɞ‎‧₊˚

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

There's an armoire in Chuuya's bedroom that houses all of the obscenely expensive vibrators you'd asked him to buy you, not realizing he actually would at the time. He likes to keep them hidden for the most part - out of sight, out of mind. He'll be in the middle of fucking you. Stretching you out while your nails dig into his back. He'll feel your walls start to spasm around him. He'll watch your eyes flutter back. He'll feel how tight and snug your cunt is squeezing him. He'll know you're right there and that's when he'll pull out your favorite wand. Always when you're least expecting it. When you're already so cock-drunk and lost that you don't think you could possibly take anything more, he'll run it along your clit. Your body practically convulsing at the overstimulation. "Chuuya - ohmygod... I... I - can't. I can’t, I can’t -" "Look at me. You can take it, baby. I know you can. Gimme one more, okay? Just like that. There you go. Fuuuck, baby. Just - like... that."

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The amount of sheer pleasure Chuuya derives from making you beg for him should be illegal. He’s constantly teasing you. Constantly trying to coax out desperate little cries from you. You're splayed out beneath him, legs spread beautifully, your cunt nearly dripping onto his sheets and he's still ghosting your lips with his. Wearing the most infuriating grin as he continues to rattle off depraved things like, "Baby, I wish I could, y'know? I really wanna give it to you, but I just don't believe that you want it." all while he's stroking himself just inches above you, making you watch the whole thing in agony but still not letting you touch him yet. "C'mon princess, show me how bad you want it. Let me see how you play with that pussy when I'm not here. Make me fuckin’ believe it.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Chuuya will groan and talk during sex, but he's not necessarily loud. He's way more concerned with the noises you're making anyway. As mentioned, his bedroom love language is taunting. "No? You can't take it anymore? Ohh, your pussy's just so sensitive, huh? That's so sad. My poor sweet girl." before slapping your clit and smirking at you as you whine beneath him. "Oh, look at that. Seems like you can take it after all.” He'll groan against you whenever he goes down on you, reveling in how fucking wet you are for him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Chuuya is secretly sentimental. He might not always admit it, but he doesn't just remember your anniversary - he remembers the outfit you were wearing the first time he met you and what the weather was like that day. He saves ticket stubs from your dates. Takes pictures of you when you're not looking just so he can keep the moment forever. He plans gifts for your birthday weeks in advance. Any time you list off a restaurant that you want to try or a vacation spot you want to visit one day, he secretly jots it down in his notes app. He listens to you, really listens to you when you talk and keeps every gift you give him, no matter how small or insignificant.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Chuuya is 5'3, (though he'll most definitely try to convince you that the measurements are off no matter how many times your scale reaches the the same conclusion). Slender. Nice arms and a slutty fucking waist. Hands, hands, hands. Usually covered by gloves but so fucking pretty and veiny when they're not. Speaking of veiny? Chuuya Nakahara is packing. Giiiiirth, babydoll, and a lot of it. Short men are ALWAYS stacked, you can't argue with science.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Chuuya's anger and sex drive mirror each other in the sense that they're both always on no matter what. Even when they're calmed down, even when they're not as noticeable - all it takes is one wrong (or right) move and he's right there, fully up and ready to go. You touch his leg under the table during dinner one night and he immediately finds an excuse to dismiss the two of you for a few minutes, dragging you to a secluded corner of the bar where he pins you against the wall. His leg wedged between yours, leaving urgent kisses along your collarbone as he creates friction against your clit. “This what you want? For me to fuck you right here?” You try to keep your resolve but it’s hard for him to take you seriously when your objections are all coming out in the form of moans. “My needy fuckin’ girl.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He'll lay with you and talk about your day, but Chuuya is struggling to keep his eyes open after he cums. The minute you nestle into his shoulder, and he feels the warmth of your skin against his, he's fighting for his life to stay awake. Poor baby is just so tired, especially after dealing with Port Mafia all week. He feels safe in your arms. The thought of coming home to you is what gets him through most days anyway so once he's finally actually tangled up in you, he can't help but drift off into the comfort of your scent and the sound of your heartbeat.

⠀𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

‎♡‧₊˚ here’s dazai’s version ‎♡‧₊˚

[celestialwrites]

jealousy dialogue + prompts ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

@celestialwrites for more!

♡ “why don’t you just go back to her?!” “who?”

♡ “if you want (character) gone just say so!”

♡ character A talking with an old friend while character B just sits and watches. [little did they know, the old friend was talking about how lucky A is to have B.]

♡ “i never took you for the jealous type.” “i. am. not. jealous.”

♡ “maybe i didn’t like the way (character) looked at you!”

♡ “aw, darling, are you jealous?”

♡ character A being oblivious to a random person flirting but character B swoops in to ‘save’ character A from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous.

♡ “you’re jealous of (character)? hun, you could do so much better.”

♡ “i saw the way he looked at you!”

♡ character A gets jealous over their old fling who they swore they hated. [chaos ensues]

♡ “why do you look like you’re about to stab me? you’re not jealous, are you?”

♡ “why are you so insecure about this?” “i don’t want to be used again!”

♡ “what’s the matter with you?” “i don’t like the way (character A) looks at (character B)”

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS<3

[marvelfanfics1]

Baby's First Shots

Request: baby maybank is taken to her annual checkup with the pogues , them trying to distract her from the shots she needs 🤍

Pairing: jj maybank x daughter!reader

Warnings: shots, some crying, I don't know if what I wrote is correct but oh well 🥲

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"But Kie, look how happy she is right now!" JJ coos, holding your smiling self up to her face. "You can't expect me to just let her get experimented on."

"I already explained to you like- a hundred times that it's just regular shots, idiot. She needs them. They're not experimenting on her." Kie sighs, smiling at you gnawing on your hand, reaching a hand up to tickle your exposed belly making you shriek with laughter.

JJ turns you around to cradle you against his chest, softly talking to you before reluctantly laying you in your carrier, following Kie outside to join John B and Pope who have been waiting the whole time for JJ to get himself together.

"Damn. Finally!" John B groans. "We have to hurry now if we want to get there in time."

At the doctor's office JJ keeps bouncing his leg nervously, your carrier standing between his feet. You were so unaware of what was coming, pulling on your socks and cooing at him.

It's a little funny, the most people in the waiting room are mostly Mom's with their children and then there are the four teenager pogues with one baby. JJ is more than grateful for his friends support, they have been there for him every step of the way since your so-called 'mother' shoved you into his arms without another word.

He wouldn't know what to do without them. JJ gets pulled out from his thoughts when a nurse calls your name, his head snapping up to meet the friendly gaze of the nurse. "Yep, that's us."

He quickly gets up, grabbing the handle of your carrier with the pogues behind him.

"Oh, uhm, can my friends join as well?" He asks nervously, afraid he would have to do this alone.

The woman smiles at him, nodding. "That's not a problem, follow me."

The nurse leads them through a hallway and holds open the door to the exam room where the doctor is already waiting, looking through your file on his monitor.

JJ sits down on the chair in front of the desk, setting your carrier on the chair beside him, running a hand through his hair.

"So, Mr. Maybank-" the doctor starts but JJ cuts him off.

"JJ is just fine."

"Alright, so, tell me how has the little one been doing?" He asks. The last time you were here was shortly after your mother left you with JJ. He just wanted to make sure you were all healthy.

"Very good, actually. She sleeps, eats...y'know normal baby stuff." JJ crosses his arms, his leg bouncing again.

The doctor smiles, glancing at you who was babbling and trying to put your foot in your mouth. "That's good to hear. I guess we should go to the more unpleasant part now, so it's over quickly and you can take her home again. If you could please take her out of the carrier I will get the shots prepared."

JJ nods, tensing up a little but reaching over to open your straps, carefully picking you up and sitting you on his lap, your back resting against his stomach so you're facing the doctor.

Kie notices JJ's distress and places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing for reassurance. "It'll be fine."

Soon the doctor approaches with the first syringe in hand, kneeling down to wipe with an alcohol pad over your left knee. John B goes to stand beside the doctor, snapping his fingers to get your attention. "Look up here sweetie. Yeah, like that." He smiles, trying to distract you.

The needle breaks through your skin and your face scrunches up. John B grabs the teddy that Pope holds out for him, waving it in the air. "No, no, no. Look who I have here."

You sniffle, calming down but as soon as you get your second shot in your other knee you start to wail loudly. JJ's heart breaks at the sight, shushing you and rubbing his hand over your belly to soothe you and make you know that he's there. "Shh, it's okay...it's over now."

"There we go." The doctor finishes the procedure by putting a bandaid on each of your knees, standing back up straight and walking over to his desk again to update your shots to your file. "Okay, everything is finished. I'll see you again in two months, you can make an appointment at the front desk. Have a good day."

JJ didn't need to be told twice, holding you to his chest he stands up and hands Pope your carrier so he could solely focus on you while walking out and to the front desk to make another appointment.

Back outside you were still crying softly, your small hands clutching his shirt tightly. "Shh, shh, I'm here. You were so brave, dada's proud of you."

The others smile at the sight. JJ never fails to tell you how much he loves you and that he's proud of you even if you're just a few months old he always makes sure you know he will always be there when you need him.

John B pats his back. "C'mon, dude. You both survived, now let's head back to the Chateau."

JJ nods, continuing to bounce you and mumbles sweet nothings to you as he walks towards the Twinkie, waiting for you to fully calm down before getting you back in your carrier that Pope already strapped on the passenger seat.

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Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

[yancoric]

sitting with my face leaned against their back as they play dnd and reblogging every post that makes me think of them

i love you darling :3

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Part 1, chapter 1- who the hell did this?

Series masterlist

Warnings- mentions of blood, alcohol, and drugs but nothing bad (: just sum angst.

Summary: Rafe cameron dating Jj maybanks sister was not expected by anyone. You were left to take care of your dad- alone, when Jj left for months on end, causing the two of you to have a terrible sibling relationship. Your feelings are conflicted when you hear that Rafe, your boyfriend, was the one who shot peterkin- not John b.

“Jesus, dad.” You mumbled under your breath. You gathered all the strength you had in your arms, moving him so he was laying down, taking the bottle from his hands and placing it on the table with the rest.

You sighed quietly, staring at him laying on the couch for a moment before you went out into the backyard.

It was a mess, more bottles strewn across the ground, cigarette butts and joints carelessly thrown onto the flower garden you had enjoyed building with your brother as kids.

You hadn’t seen him in forever, probably off with his friends doing stupid shit again. Grabbing the plastic bag, you threw the bottles into it, then the cigarettes and joints. The flowers were dead, beyond repair at this point.

“Hey.” A quiet voice said from behind. Your movements paused, seemingly frozen in place. You whipped your head around, looking at him.

“Jj.” You spoke, surprised. Your eyes widened and you stood up now. He walked closer.

“How is he?” He asked, looking at the house, avoiding your gaze.

“He’s fine.” You said sharply.

“You’re angry.” He scratched the back of his neck, his eyes now glued to the ground.

“No shit, jj.” You murmured, dropping the plastic bag that was in your hands. “You left him, you left us. He was worried sick.”

“I had to.” He said.

“Why are you here, Jj?”

“I just wanted to… to..” he hesitated.

“To?”

“I just wanted to check up on you. You both.”

You sighed, picking up the bag and entering the house. Jj followed behind, looking around. He looked at his dad, and the necklace around his neck.

The keys to the phantom.

You threw the small bag into the trash, along with the rest.

“It looks better in here.” He said, interrupting the tension.

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “I’m not looking after you and your fuckin’ friends now.” Your words were laced with venom, you didn’t feel bad.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sorry.”

“I’ll be back. Make yourself at home.” You mumbled, going back out into the backyard, sighing heavily. You tried your best to ignore the tears welling in your eyes, leaning against the wall of the house.

Taking deep breaths, you opened the door to see Jj leaving already. He turned around once more, giving you one last glance before he ran into his friends car.

You weren’t shocked at your brothers disappearance anymore, instead you just looked at your dad, noticing the keys around his neck gone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, lightly shaking him awake.

“Hey, where’s your keys?” You asked him urgently, knowing that once he was sober he would be angry they were gone.

“Jj….” He mumbled, eyes still shut.

“Did jj take them?”

He didn’t answer. You grumbled under your breath, grabbing your own keys off the table.

“I’ll be back, dad.” You said, giving him a kiss on his forehead before opening the door and locking it.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

The phantom was gone. Jj was gone.

“No, no.” You mumbled. “Fuck!” You shouted. You didn’t notice the two boys coming up behind you.

“Y/n?” A voice said. You turned around, furrowing your eyebrows at the sight.

“Rafe?” Your eyes widened, you went up to him, hugging him tightly.

“Jesus, Rafe, what the fuck happened? Who the hell did this?” You asked him, your hand cupping his face and your thumb tracing over his blood, wiping it from his face.

He didn’t answer, just looking at you. You panicked as you stared at him, trying to wipe the blood off his lip.

“Stop, stop.” He mumbled, gently pushing your hand away. “I’m fine. I just need you.. i just need you to listen, okay?” His hands cupped your face now, his eyes searching yours.

“Shit, isn’t that maybanks sister?” A voice behind him laughed, interrupting what Rafe was going to say.

You quirked an eyebrow at the man, looking at him now. Rafe’s hand dropped to his sides, remembering he was here. Rafe turned to look at Barry now.

“She doesn’t have anything to do with them, man.” Rafe was quick to defend you.

Barry looked at him and back at you.

“Shit, never thought I’d see the day where you were dating a maybank.” He laughed quietly, making his way outside. Rafe looked back at you, and followed Barry.

“Stay here for a second.” He spoke to you, holding a hand out.

“What? Why? Rafe-“

“For once, just fuckin’ listen to me!” He shouted. Pausing for a moment. “Please. Please, just stay here for 2 minutes.”

You just shook your head to yourself when he left, running a hand through your hair and pacing around.

What the fuck was Rafe hiding?

Why did jj need the phantom?

What was jj up to?

Where the fuck did he go?

A scream from outside a few moments later made you snap out of your head. Rafe walked in, his helmet in his hands.

“Where are you going?” You asked him when he grabbed your arm, practically dragging you out.

He didn't answer, once you were both outside he grabbed your wrist now.

"I want you to listen, okay? I- I really wanted to tell you this, but... It doesn't matter. I killed Sheriff Peterkin."

The words coming out his mouth made your jaw drop. You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly backing away when he tried to get closer to you. His grip on your wrist got tighter.

"My dad- He- She was going to kill him, baby. I really just- I had to tell you, I can't- I can't hide it from you, and I just really... I really need someone right now. You have to understand..."

"Rafe, what the fuck are you- You shot her? You're the one that..." you laughed, this had to be some sort of sick joke.

"I couldn't just let her..."

He wanted someone to listen, he wanted to justify his actions, he needed to.

His phone lit up with a notification. He glanced down at it and back at you, letting go of your wrist.

"If you come to Tannyhill later, I can explain everything." He said, putting on his helmet and hopping onto his bike.

"Rafe.."

"I'll text you, I swear!" He shouted, starting up his bike and driving away in a rush.

You were left, standing there in shock, confusion.

Your boyfriend was a murderer and was framing someone else for it. What the fuck?

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"What the fuck do you mean he's in police custody? For what?" You shouted, already grabbing your keys from the table.

"Ma'am, we have reason to believe that that he helped John Routledge escape."

"Well, where is he?"

As soon as you were given the location you hung up the phone, and began to head for the door when your dad mumbled your name.

"Dad?"

"What's... what's wrong?" he slurred.

"Nothing, dad." You spoke, walking over to him. He reached a hand out for your face, making you flinch slightly, but he just wiped a stray tear that you hadn't even noticed. You relaxed.

"Are you sure?" His eyes were red and squinted slightly. He’d been smoking and drinking.

You lightly grabbed the bottle he held in his hand, nodding your head.

"You've had enough to drink. I'll be back soon, I promise," you said with a small smile before heading for the door and starting up your car.

Racing towards the place, your heart raced, it was a struggle driving through the rain and mud. A notification made your screen light up. You picked up your phone.

Rafe 🩷:

I need you. Please. I'll explain everything to you. I'm sorry. Come over.

You threw your phone back down, he would have to wait. As soon as you got there, you threw open the car door.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Some people guided you through the rain into a tent. Your eyes landed on the parents and their children hugging. Then they landed on Jj.

He stared at you, his eyes glossy with tears. You slowly walked to him, he threw his arms around you, and began to sob into your shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He cried out, it was quiet.

"Sh, sh. It's okay. I forgive you." You mumbled; his face buried into your neck as your own eyes welled up with tears. "I'm just glad you're okay."

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If this does well I’ll do a part 2 😭 😭 but basically the idea was that i wanted to see how rafe would be kinda different w a girlfriend (who he’s hopelessly in love with duh) and the gf being jjs sister is just so interesting idk why

If anyone does want a part 2 or to be added in a taglist lmk :3

[deqdwinter]

✩⠀˚ ‘like a tattoo’⠀˚⠀ ˛ ♡ ୨୧

pairing: toji fushiguro x chubby!afab reader

summary: toji just loves your spine tattoo...

authors note: i really just threw this shit tg so sorry if this isn't my best work erm tehe :3

Toji Fushiguro had poisoned your mind. 

Since the day you met, the thought of him had intoxicated your blood, running through your veins like venom. He spread through your body like an incurable disease and it sickened you to the bone. 

Which was why your boyfriend chuckled at the whines that were leaving your lips as he pounded you from behind. Skin slapping skin had echoed in your ears, your body felt like it was on fire, but in a… good.. way? You couldn’t exactly think straight with the large man behind you who was fucking you like a fleshlight. 

“fffuhh-CK! T-Toji!” You whined into the pillow as you gripped onto the bed sheets as if your life depended on it. In which you’re being completely honest, it felt like you were being split in two.

“mhmm–Fuuuckk! This pussy s’all mine, huh baby?” He smirked down at your trembling body, his hands gripping the plush of your waist as he pulled you against him as your ass clapped against his pelvis. 

His cock dragged against your walls deliciously, the feeling of his veins rubbing against your insides had you seeing white as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You could feel his tip hitting the entrance of your womb with every thrust, the squelch of your cunt only egging him closer to his climax.

“T-Tuh--Jiii!” You mewled into the sheets as you grabbed one of the pillows that was splayed on the bed, holding it close to your face as you moaned sweetly into it. 

“Such a fuckin’ minx…” He purred as his eyes, along with his hand, trailed down your back, your spine tattoo melting down your back into a beautiful piece. 

Your back arched against his fingers that trickled down your spine, fucking back against him as his pace had slowed down from the animalistic one he had set prior. 

“M’gunna–cum-” Your words slur as you tighten your grip around the pillow in your arms, missing the sly grin that painted your boyfriend's face as he pulled his ghosting hand away from your back and placed it back on your other hip. 

“Ya’ gonna’ cum mama?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice ran shivers down your inked spine as he pulled away to rest his forehead in between your lats. “Cum f’me baby, wanna see this pretty pussy make a mess.” He kissed the top of your spine and pulled away to stand upright, his eyes trailing to his cock pistoning in and out of your folds. “She’s a pretty one ain’t she?” He groaned as he pulled his cock out to see it glistening with your essence and your walls tightening around him. “Fuck I’m gonna cum..” He threw his head back with his eyes shut tight, pulling your plush body back into his as your ass clapped against his pelvis. 

“M’cumming!” You squeal as the knot in your lower stomach snapped as you came, your climax rippling through your body as you released on Toji’s cock, your juices dripping down his length as he continued his brutal pace. 

“F-Fuck- s’so pretty–ugh– aren’t ya’ b-baby?” he stuttered with his words with his jaw clenched, tightening his hold on your hips as your chubby legs began to shake from overstimulation. 

“C-Cum inside me, Ji’. Please–” You whined as he pulled the lower half of your body impossibly closer, your back arching even more as loud squeals began to leave your plush lips at the feeling of his tip poking the entrance of your womb with every thrust.

“Fuck, fuck–!” He cut himself off as he released his seed into your cunt, pulling you flush against him as his cum painted your insides white. “Fuckin’ hell…” He moaned lowly, his cock softening  in your cunt as heavy pants left both of your lips. 

You flopped onto the bed as Toji pulled out of you. You felt his cum drip out of you as a chuckle left his scarred lips, “That was only our 4th round, drama queen.”

“Felt like the 45th.” You groaned into the sheets as your muscles ached with every move you made. “N’my back hurts…”

“I jus’ like your tattoo I guess.” Toji snickered as you slapped his chest lightly. 

“Fuck you. Asshole..” You mumbled lowly before you felt his arms on either side of you, his large body hovering over yours as you felt him lean down and whisper…

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, mama.”

taglist: @sorrowsblogworld (new taglist form will be up soon :3)

[princessbrunette]

reader who sometimes likes to point out really obvious stuff, but she’s always so proud of herself that the boys just don’t have the heart to bring it up. Like her & rafe could be sitting on the couch watching discovery channel, & something that is obviously a baby cheetah will come into the screen & she’ll be like “oh! that’s a cheetah, it’s only a baby though, it still needs to grow into a big cheetah.” or she could be with johnbee & there’s clearly something wrong with the boat, & she’ll go “The boats not starting up.” with all seriousness, & he’ll just smile & kiss her head. “You’re right, good job.” or jj could show up in front of her literally dripping in sweat, & she’ll say; “you’re sweating.” & jjs all like “really? shit i didn’t even notice, thanks sweetheart.” - 🍄

this kills me bc unironically this is so me, i do this all the time ! 😭

🌺⋆୨୧⋆⋆˚👙˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡🐚

john b n jj as a duo would get such a kick out of it, jj always coming back with something sarcastic to point out how obvious it is whilst john b simply absentmindedly strokes your head and says “yeah.” all quiet and calm, occasionally smacking jj to get him to behave.

john b especially is so used to it that he doesn’t even bat an eyelid. he’s laying back on the couch at the chateau with his eyes shut, listening to you repeatedly press the on button on one of the lamps, only for no light to come out.

“the lamp is not turning on.” you observe simply, and without opening his eyes, john b knows the resolution.

“why do you think that is, pup?” he asks gently in that low raspy voice he gets when he’s tired.

“because it’s not plugged in.” he can hear you turned to look at him to answer so he cracks an eye open, giving you a small smile and a nod as he rests a hand behind his head.

“right.”

jj often meets your obvious remarks with lighthearted teasing as mentioned before, the blonde leading you into an abandoned church with the pogues as you follow a lead.

“the lights are off because the church is very old.” you inform jj quietly, sticking to his side as you blink uncomfortably at a cluster of cobwebs in the doorway. he licks his lips, glancing as you as he’s halfway through working a torch out of his cluttered backpack.

“nothin’ gets past you, huh babydoll?” he sarks, gently moving you aside by the waist to walk infront of you for protection purposes.

with rafe he honestly pays it no mind even if he does think it’s kind of cute lowkey. you’ll have your cheek smushed tiredly to his chest as he steers his boat out on the open water and he’ll feel you wriggle an arm free to point tiredly at another boat nearby.

“theres another boat here.” the comment made sense to say in your head, rafe’s sunglass- shielded eyes flickering in its direction carelessly before returning his gaze to the open water, expression not changing.

“yeah, no shit baby.” he mutters, but a few minutes later he presses a kiss to the warm crown of your head.

🌺⋆୨୧⋆⋆˚👙˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡🐚